Page 10 of Must Love Hockey
Now James cracks up. “Really? That’s out in the world?”
“Yup. Someone must have ratted him out.”
“Well, it wasn’t me.”
“Of course it wasn’t you. We’ve already established that.” That’s when my phone rings. I actually startle, because it’s late, and I’ve forgotten that anyone else in the world exists besides me and James.
When I check the phone, it’s Charles calling. Oh boy. “Hello?” I answer, looking around to see if anyone will give me a dirty look for talking on my cell. But the waiting room crowd has really thinned out.
“Emily! You didn’t answer my texts. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Charles, it’s really late, so I didn’t expect your messages. Actually, I’m in the waiting room at the ER at Methodist.”
“What?”
He freaks out a little, and I hurry to explain everything that happened. “I’m fine now. I swear.”
“God, I had no idea. Do you need me to come and get you?”
Ialmostsay yes just out of spite. He hadn’t listened when I’d told him I wasn’t feeling well. He’d been too busy pleasing his clients.
But I don’t really want Charles to rush over here. He’s already home, and I don’t need help anymore. “Go to sleep. It’s late. I’ll Uber home.”
He argues halfheartedly before agreeing to stay home. “Goodnight, honey. Call me tomorrow to let me know how you are.”
“Sure. ’Night.”
“Love you.”
I end the call so I don’t have to say it back.
“Is that the boyfriend?” James asks.
“That was the boyfriend,” I say with a sigh. “He probably feels guilty for blowing me off when I said I felt sick.”
“Come again?” James’s voice is barely above a whisper. When I turn to him, his whole body has gone strangely still. “Did you say he blew you off? Was he at thegame?”
“Well, yeah. He and some clients. They were headed into Manhattan for drinks, and I bailed because I felt off. He was irritated.”
“Irritated,” James says slowly. “Because his girlfriend was having alife-threatening allergic reaction?”
“He didn’t know that,” I say softly. “Neither did I. We both just assumed it was nothing.”
“Okay,” James says carefully. “But if I was seeing somebody, and she felt off, I’d want to know about it. She wouldn’t be able to shake me. Just saying. My ass would be parked in the emergency room makin’ sure she was okay.”
“I bet it would,” I admit. His ass is currently parked next to mine, and we don’t even know each other. “She’d be a lucky girl.”
Our eyes meet, and I feel my face heat from embarrassment. Did that sound flirty? I think it did. And now we’re having a staring contest.
Luckily, it’s interrupted. “Emily?” Dr. Agarwal says. “Looks like you’re still feeling all right. So I guess you can finally go home.”
FOUR
WORST. TRIP. EVER.
Emily
“Atickbite?” It’s the last thing I expected the allergist to ask me. “Why?”
