Page 3 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
I roll my eyes. “You know, if you think this whole thing is fake, why pull me over to watch?”
“Fake can still be hot.”
I shake my head at her. “You’re ridiculous. And it’s time for me to leave.”
“Fine. But remember, we’re going out Friday night. I know you need multiple business days to prepare.”
“Got it!” I yell back as I jog backwards away from her and return to my manic charting.
There’s chatter all around me as the players go from room to room, but I block all of them out to finish my paperwork. As I finish up the last of my documentation, I feel a buzzing from my cell phone on the desk.
Quinn
T-minus forty-five minutes! It’s go time!
“Shitake mushrooms!” I yell as I scramble up from the chair. “I’m late! I’ve got to go.”
I frantically grab my two tumblers from the station and scramble to slip my phone back into my pocket. “All the charts are caught up. I left notes for the next shift. Can you hand them off?”
“Yes! Go,” Mia directs and waves me out of here. “Thanks for covering!”
I know it’s rude to not say “you’re welcome,” but I literally don’t have time. I’m supposed to be in Rolling Hills before six o’clock and it’s already five fifteen. No way in rush-hour traffic am I going to make it in time.
I dodge and weave through the crowds of people as I scan my card to let me into the nurse’s locker room. There are afew others in here, but I don’t stop to make small talk, which I’d normally do. Instead, I grab everything—my empty third tumbler, which I had this morning for my juice, my lunchbox, and my purse—before sprinting back toward the exit.
I rush through the door and turn left, because that’s how I leave every day. I’m two steps into my power walk when I realize that I’m not on my normal floor, and I should’ve turned right.
“Darn it,” I let out, pivoting to go the other direction.
Next thing I know I’m tumbling backward after bouncing off of someone, and there is no recovering my footing. I go down in a racket of insulated metal tumblers and a squeak.
“Oh, shit! Sweetheart, are you okay?”
I blink a few times, flat on the hospital floor, as the male voice registers in my brain. What the heck just happened? One minute I’m turning around, next minute I’m falling and now.... Well, now I’m looking up at the most beautiful set of green eyes I’ve ever seen.
“God, I’m so sorry,” Linc says as he kneels down to bring us to eye level. “Are you okay?”
I nod—because what are words?—as I assess pain levels.
Butt? A little sore since that’s where I landed. Luckily I was blessed with some extra cushion back there so I’m good.
Rest of body? Fine.
Inner self? Mortified. Though that might be more because I realize I’ve forgotten every word in the English language.
Seriously though? How can a man’s eyes bethatgreen?
“You turned on a dime. One minute you were marching down the hall, next thing you’re running into me like it’s Sunday night football.”
“I…” Look at me with a word! I try again. “Leave. Car. Go.”
My eyes go wide as I realize what just came out of my mouth. Linc is struggling between concern and amusement, but it’s a losing battle.
Leave, go, car? What the heck, Ainsley?Full sentences would help right now. He probably thinks I’m some sort of idiot, which I’m not. Or worse, he probably assumes I’m one of those wanna-be football player groupies I’ve heard Mia talk about.
Joke’s on him. I’d probably be acting like this if he were an accountant. Or a professional stamp collector. That’s how beautiful this man is. And if he keeps smiling at me the way he is right now— big, bright, and with a hint of mischief—I don’t know if I’ll ever speak in full sentences again.
“Well, far be it from me to stop any of those things.”
