Page 23 of In Your Wildest Dreams
“Only if you promise to stay in bed and rest until then.”
He laughs. “If I do, will you have breakfast with me?”
“You just don’t give up.”
“Never.”
Against my better judgment, I find myself nodding. “Fine, but just coffee.”
“Really?” His obvious glee makes my stomach flip.
“I’ll stop by once I clock out, but I only have thirty minutes before I have to leave for classes.”
“I’ll be ready. Not how I pictured our first date, but I can work with cafeteria food.”
Even with excitement bubbling under my skin, I feel an instant twinge of regret. What the hell am I doing?
“It’s not a date. I’m just letting you buy me coffee to make up for being the worst patient ever.”
He laughs that deep, throaty chuckle again. “Fair enough.”
“Get some sleep.”
“Goodnight, Nurse Bridget.”
7
LET’S NOT GET CARRIED AWAY
ASH
“You didn’t even gether number?” Jack pulls into my driveway and kills the engine.
“I was working on it. We were gonna get coffee, where I’d convince her she should go out with me. But then the doctors sent me for a second X-ray this morning to double-check my shoulder and that took forever. When I got back, she’d already left.”
“Damn. That sucks.”
I nod in agreement. “But at least I know her name now and where to find her.”
My body aches as I climb out of his car. As the pain in my shoulder and head has lessened, the rest of the bumps and bruises from the game are starting to hurt. I can’t wait to get to the rink and have the trainers work their magic before we leave for Nashville.
No sooner than I’ve thought it, I realize that’s not going to happen. I’m not going to Nashville or any of the other upcoming road games.
Jack follows me into the house. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I left to go to the rink before the game, but damn, it’s good to be home. I’m a homebody. Don’t get me wrong, I love to hang with friends and throw parties, but I prefer doing those things here.
Since my teammate Tyler and his wife Piper moved out, it’s been too quiet around here. It might be time to throw a party. Just as soon as I get out of this sling.
In the kitchen, I toss my stuff on the counter, then notice the takeout bag from my favorite breakfast spot.
My stomach grumbles. “You know the way to my heart, man. I won’t even question why you were already in my house this morning.”
“I just made sure you had a few things on hand.”
At his words, I walk over and open the fridge. I scan the many containers of food stacked up on the shelves and look back at him. “A few things? This looks like meals for a month. You didn’t need to do all this.”
“It’s nothing.”
It’s not nothing. The fridge is packed with pre-cooked meals that I’d bet his chef cooked last night or this morning. That guy needs a raise for putting up with Jack.
