by Sophia Henry
I hate the final goodbye.
Luke shoots me a side glance, as if he doesn’t know how to respond to my chivalry. “Do you always go to your patients’ funerals?”
“Never.” I shake my head. “I just thought you might need a friend by your side today.” Which seems silly to me now, because he had multiple friends there. I was the outsider.
At first Luke’s brow furrows slightly, as he looks at me cautiously, but then he relaxes and his expression transforms into a smile of gratitude. “You came here for me?”
I nod, suddenly overcome by embarrassment. Maybe it seems creepy to him that I showed up here when we’ve never really had any intense conversations.
My fears are quelled when he tugs me into his arms and holds me tight against his chest. “Thank you,” he whispers. There’s no better feeling than a hug of genuine gratitude. I sink into his embrace, letting the warmth pulse through me.
When Luke finally releases me, I ask, “Are you okay to drive?”
He wipes at his eyes with one hand as he digs his keys out of his front pocket with the other. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Luke sniffs, and I open my purse and reach inside. I shoved a packet of tissues in there before I left my apartment this morning. His lips turn up in a small smile when he accepts the package.
“Pink leopard print,” he says softly.
At first I’m confused, then I realize he’s talking about the plastic wrap around the tissues. “What can I say? I have a wild side,” I joke.
“Yeah. I know.” He reaches out and grazes my cheek.
His touch makes my heart feel a bit lighter. “Take care, Luke,” I say, patting his bicep and spinning around.
“Bree!” he calls out before I’ve taken three steps.
I turn around, reaching up to brush away the strands of my wavy, brown hair whipping around my face in the wind. When I try to tuck it behind my ear, it falls right out, so I hold it back with my hand. “Yes?”
“I want to take you out on a real date.” He pauses for a moment, fiddling with his keys. “Not today, but soon. Would that be okay?”
I pause, trying to decide if I should try to dodge the invisible lasso threatening to rope me in. With the bond we created today, we seem to have turned a corner in a relationship that started as a fun fling. Accepting his invitation for a real date means I’m agreeing to take it to the next level.
His smile falls away as he waits for my answer. “Or not. No big deal.”
The excitement bubbling in my stomach contradicts the logic that tells me dating someone in Charlotte is a stupid idea.
“No, it’s…yeah, Luke.” I nod. “That would definitely be okay.”
I’m flattered that Luke wants to take our relationship from hooking up to actually dating, even if I’m not sure if that’s really what I want. I’m not going to be in town long enough to allow myself to put in much effort or emotion. Then again, Luke’s a hot hockey player who fucks like it’s his second job, so what do I really have to lose?
Chapter 13
Luke
I can’t get Bree Collins out of my head. I’ve tried. I’ve put in extra time pounding it out at the gym. I’ve pored over the latest issue of Maxim. I’ve jacked off in the shower—pretty much every time I’m in there.
Nothing works. I still think about her constantly. And not just about how hot she is or how she’s all for trying every fucking thing I want to do in bed. I’m actually thinking about how much I like her as a person.
When I first pulled into the funeral home’s parking lot for Jack’s memorial service yesterday, I’d made up my mind to take a break from volunteering. I needed time to process his loss. Time to rest before putting my heart and soul into another kid—even one that I didn’t have a personal connection with. Time to numb the pain in the only way I knew how—keeping my distance from people and things I care about and locking my thoughts away.
And then Briana Collins showed up.
One random act of kindness from an amazing, selfless woman was powerful enough to change my mind overnight.
Now, I’m cranking up the radio in my Jeep and speeding through the streets of Charlotte to get to the hospital. Though it makes me feel like a total tool for admitting it, I’m really excited to see her again.
I knew there was something special about Bree the first time I met her, then we fucked and that sealed it. When I realized she was a pediatric oncology nurse and saw how she interacted with the kids, her stock rose. But she absolutely blew my mind when she showed up at Jack’s funeral—to support me.
But I’m excited to get back to the kids, too. After my surgery, I had to take a few months off because I didn’t want to be around them fucked-up on painkillers. At least I had the sense not to hang around children when I took that shit. Props for me.
Out of all the charity work I’ve done through various hockey organizations I’ve been a part of, interacting with kids in the hospital has always been the most rewarding. Though I’ve never been the sick one, I know what it feels like to be angry and frustrated and mad at the world. I like to believe I have experience and a positive outlook to share. Maybe it helps me more than it helps them. I’ve ended up getting close to a lot of kids and their families.
I’m almost at the hospital when I realize I don’t have flowers. I thought of this cute way to ask Bree out, and I wanted to bring her a huge bouquet. I want to see her olive skin light up with happiness that I created. She deserves it after how much her support meant to me yesterday.
I’m guilty of getting lost in my own head, my own problems. I don’t always notice what other people are going through until they say something. Which makes me sound like a selfish asshole. I’m just used to having to look out for myself, because I haven’t had anyone looking out for me in years. I don’t know if that’s just me or a normal reaction for most people. In a way, the world revolves around each of us as individuals. We don’t pay attention to things that don’t directly involve or affect us. We are the stars of our own life.
Except Bree. Bree took time off work to go to Jack’s service. For me.
I crank a hard left into the parking lot for the Kings Drive outdoor farmer’s market. They always have an amazing array of fresh flowers. I pick out a mix of various colored roses, thirty-six in all, petals still glistening with morning dew. Bree deserves a hundred more, but I don’t want to go overboard.
The first thing I pass when I get to CCH is the volunteer stand just inside the hospital entrance. I carefully wiggle a stem out and hand a rose to Garland, the elderly lady who directs volunteers and visitors.
“Thank you.” She accepts it with wide eyes and raises it to her nose. “What’s the gift for, Luke?”
“I’m bringing flowers to beautiful ladies. You’re the first.” I lean in and kiss her soft, pale cheek. The familiar scent of Dove soap catches my attention and floods my head with memories. It’s one of the only two brands we used when I was a kid. Dove in the dish on the bathroom counter to wash our hands. Irish Spring in the shower.
“You sweet, sweet boy.” Her face flushes pink and she covers the spot my lips touched with her hand.
Instead of using the elevator, which opens in clear view of the nurses’ desk on the pediatric floor, I choose the staircase at the end of the hallway, so I can slip in unnoticed. If Bree sees me, it will ruin my surprise.
Chapter 14
Bree
“Bree, you’re needed for an emergency in Tommy Ruckshauser’s room,” Tonya reports as we pass in the hallway.
“What?” My neck and shoulders tighten.
She spins around and touches my arm. “Not a real emergency. I think he has something up his sleeve.”
“Ah, okay.” The tension releases with a breath of relief. “Thanks.”
Tommy Ruckhauser is a twelve-year-old in remission from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma who keeps the entire staff in stitches with random movie quotes and humorous comments that seem a bit inappropriate coming from a kid. I’m not
judging—to each their own. I’ve seen all kinds in this line of work.
“Hey, Tommy,” I greet him as I enter the room. Uno cards are scattered on the narrow table that rolls up to his bed, alerting me that he had a visitor here playing with him.
“Can you come closer?” Tommy asks, beckoning me with his hand.
Without hesitation, I move to his side. My heart skips in surprise when he immediately takes my hand and holds it between his. My lips slide into a smile.
“Bree,” Tommy begins, “will you make me the—”
“Not you, me,” says a scratchy whisper. I recognize that raspy voice. Luke. I glance toward the curtain that separates Tommy’s bed from another patient’s. A pair of shiny, black men’s dress shoes stick out from beneath.
“Me. That’s what I said,” Tommy confirms, throwing a quick glance at the curtain.
“Will you make Luke the happiest man,” Luke prompts from his hiding spot.
My shoulders shake and I press my lips together to keep from laughing.
Tommy squeezes my hand. “Oh! I get it.” He returns his eyes to me and starts again. “Will you make Luke the happiest man on the planet and go on a date with me.”
Luke yanks the curtain back and steps out from behind it. One hand is still on the curtain, while the other clutches a ridiculously large bouquet of roses. “That was not what we discussed.”
“Looks like your wingman pulled one over on you,” I say, winking at Tommy.
“What?” Tommy says, feigning innocence. “I thought you were trying to help me ask the prettiest nurse in the world out on a date.”
Luke tilts his head and gives him a dry smile. “I knew I should have asked D’Angelo to help instead.”
Tommy turns his head to me. “So what do you say? You want to go out with Lloyd Dobler here or what?”
“How do you know the guy from Say Anything…? You’re twelve,” Luke asks.
“I have awesome parents,” Tommy answers.
Luke nods in agreement and steps away from the curtain. “What do you say?” he says, echoing Tommy while thrusting the flowers toward me. His eyes veer downward and he notices that Tommy still has my hand in his. “Hey, Casanova, get your hands off my girl.”
“The roses are beautiful, but an old-school boom box would have made this more authentic,” I say, referencing the famous scene from Say Anything…to tease him.
“Well, I can get a boom box if you really want me to, but that was a makeup scene. We haven’t gotten there yet.”
“Technically, you haven’t gotten anywhere yet,” Tommy pipes up. “She hasn’t said yes.”
I lift the bouquet to my nose, smelling the flowers while hiding my laugh.
“Thanks, buddy.” Luke sighs. “So, Bree, will you make me the happiest man on the planet and let me take you out?”
“I’d love to,” I respond, lowering the flowers. “Text me later. I’m going to put these in water,” I say and turn around slowly. I’d love to take my pulse right now or have an ECG or something. It would be interesting to see if my heart rate really spikes with the excitement of being asked out. I’m so giddy I’m practically skipping out the door.
As I walk out, I hear a bit of the conversation between the guys.
“Now I feel like it’s a pity date,” Luke says.
“Yeah, you really should have gotten D’Angelo to help. He’s so much more suave,” Tommy responds.
Once I’m in the hallway, I jump up and pump both fists in the air. Rose petals and leaves flutter to the floor. I imagine my jump resembled one the of cheerleading moves I’d mastered in high school. Once you learn those crazy lifts and stiff arms, you never really let it go. Must be the same phenomenon as the beauty queen wave.
“Don’t kill the flowers, Bree.” Luke’s voice startles me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend he didn’t see my celebration. I thought Luke would hang out with Tommy for a few more minutes, not follow me out.
“Nice jump, though. You should audition for the Earharts,” he says.
After taking a second to recover my pride, I spin to face him. “What are the airheads?”
Luke chuckles. “The Earharts. The dancing girls at Aviators games.”
“I’m a traditionalist. I don’t believe in cheerleaders at hockey games.” The addition of them still annoys the crap out of me. There’s nowhere for dancing girls to stand at a hockey game. And who the hell is looking at them instead of watching the action?
“I thought you were from Anaheim.” Luke squints at me as if trying to read me.
“How do you know that?” I ask. I don’t remember telling him where I was from in our brief encounters.
“We’re friends on social media, you know.”
Of course. Good old social media, where you can find out all the information you need without ever having a conversation with someone. It’s what our generation does. And I’m right there, too. I’ve scrolled through his Instagram account. He doesn’t have Twitter though. Not that I’m a stalker or anything.
Luke continues without waiting for a response. “Hockey traditionalist and Anaheim don’t really mix. You created a generation of kids who think the Flying V could actually work.”
“It might on a power play.” I wink and walk toward the nurse’s station unfazed by his teasing.
I grew up right in the thick of Anaheim hockey culture. My father won back-to-back NCAA hockey championships in college and my brother played junior hockey in the Western Hockey League, so I knew all the Mighty Ducks movie jokes people could throw at me. I also knew the Flying V would never work in a real-game scenario. I’ll take that a step further. None of the Hollywood-penned trick plays from that movie trilogy would even be attempted in a real game.
“So you’re a hockey fan?”
Luke follows me, which is slightly unnerving because being around him makes my heart flutter and my stomach flip. His mere presence makes me want to tear off the light-gray, long-sleeved oxford shirt he’s rocking today and lick his tattoos.
“Love it,” I admit, picking a piece of paper up from the desk. I don’t even know what I grabbed. I’m fumbling around like a nervous teenager who’s just been asked out for the first time in her life. I’ve seen this man naked on multiple occasions. I’ve sucked his dick. Why is having a conversation with him such an issue right now?
“I’m glad to see you,” I say softly. “I thought you might need to take some time off.”
“I thought about it.” Luke tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and I have to keep from sighing. There’s something wild and sexy about it when it’s loose and free. His eyes move to the floor, then back up to me. “But I had someone special to come back to.”
My pulse flutters with his words, but I don’t react since we’re in the hallway and anyone could hear the conversation. I’d rather keep my personal business on the down low.
“Good. Because Keisha has been asking about you,” I steer the conversation toward one of my patients. “I think she has a crush.”
“Just Keisha?” He tilts his head slightly and his beautiful, unruly waves fall forward again, framing his face.
“Luke Daniels.” Tonya’s loud voice knocks me out of the starry-eyed conversation with Luke. “Don’t you have an Uno game to finish?”
Luke scans me from head to toe. “I do, but I like hanging out with you ladies. You complain so much less than the guys I work with.” His lips slide into an easy smile. “See ya later, Tinkerbell.”
“See ya,” I squeak without looking at him. Hearing Luke call me Tinkerbell makes my cheeks burn. A woman my age shouldn’t get so giddy from hearing a hot guy use a silly nickname.
Tonya stands up and leans closer to me. “I thought you two were just fucking?”
“What?” I ask, glancing at her over my shoulder.
“What happened to just fucking?”
“I don’t know. I started liking him, I guess.”
She looks down the hallway to make sure Luke has ducked
back into Tommy’s room. “Don’t you fall for that boy,” she hisses, pointing to her temple. “He ain’t right in the head.”
“When I first started here, you said all the kids and parents love him.”
“They do. He’s a wonderful guy, but he has issues.”
“Everyone has issues, T.” I brush her off. If she only knew the issues I’d moved here to get away from.
“Yeah, well, his issues run deep.” Tonya says. “Sex? Fine. Relationship? No. I’m warning you for your own good.”
“You should have warned me before the sex. There was no going back once that happened.” I wink to make light of the situation.
“Bree, I like you. You’re a sweet girl. Too sweet to fall into his black hole.” Tonya’s tone is more serious than I’ve ever heard it. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t have warned me when we were vibrator shopping. She knew I was planning on using it with Luke. She didn’t have anything to say about his issues then.
In this case, being called sweet seems more like an insult—as if she really means naive. I’m not naive. I choose to see the good in people. I became a nurse to help people, not to write them off.
I walk down the hall wondering what Tonya meant by “not right in the head.” Luke had wonderful rapport with both the kids and their families. I’d witnessed it firsthand. He had a great personality and perfect manners. His issues couldn’t be that bad or he wouldn’t be allowed to volunteer at a hospital, especially in the pediatric ward.
Besides, I know all about hockey players with deep, black holes inside them. I’d taken this job 2,500 miles away from home to get away from one.
Chapter 15
Luke
How many times have I teased my idiot teammates through the years for saying whatever a girl wanted to hear just for a chance at getting with her? I’ve never had to lie. In fact, some chicks actually like it when guys act like they don’t give a fuck. They see it as some kind of challenge.