Page 23 of Lucky Laces
I’m not naked.
Just…almost halfway there.
And, probably more importantly, Hudson has dreamed of me?
Naked or not that’s…
Well, I don’t know how I feel about that.
And I don’t have the chance to formulate a reply.
Because he passes out.
Eight
Hudson
Slowly,the blackness surrounding me begins to fade.
The first thing I feel is my leg.It’s throbbing, a red-hot pain that yanks me out of unconsciousness.
The next thing I’m aware of is my back—stiff and getting jabbed in multiple places, like I’m camping and I’ve managed to set up my tent on a bunch of rocks.
The final thing that pulls me into reality and has my lids peeling back is the soft voice from next to me.
The soft, melodic voice I’ve heard in my dreams.
“Come on,” Diana is saying, frustration in her tone.“Just fucking work already.”
“What’s not working?”I ask, my voice barely more than a rasp.
She turns and looks at me, her face barely visible in the room.
I frown, glance around.
“Power’s out,” she says quietly.“Not sure if the grid is down or they cut it to prevent fire.But I found a flashlight and I have my computer”—a nod to what’s giving her face a soft glow—“I was just trying to get in contact with someone to let them know we’re here and need help.”
“It’s not working?”
A sigh and shake of her head.“Unfortunately not.No cell service.No power.No Wi-Fi.We’ll have to wait it out.”
“All good,” I say lightly, even though I’m not feeling the least bit amused at all.In fact, I’m pretty much feeling like shit.“I’ve got nowhere to be.”
She snorts then turns the laptop in my direction.“Let me check your leg.”
“It’s fine?—”
“Save it, Mr.Stubborn Hockey Player.I had to deal with Unconscious and Bleeding Hockey Player, so you’ll deal with me making sure my first aid skills aren’t going to be the reason you kick it in my office.”
“With that bedside manner?Never,” I say dryly.
“Damn straight.”I hiss when she peels back the strips of her T-shirt.“Sorry,” she murmurs, voice gentling as she tucks the makeshift bandage back in place.“You scared the shit out of me, Huddy.”
Guilt ripples through me and I don’t think when I say, “Sorry, DeeDee.”
Her eyes go wide in the illumination of the laptop’s screen and I realize what I called her.
Shit.“I mean, sorry Coach Dee.”
