by J. H. Croix
I was reeling at her comments, but I wasn’t sure how to respond. I could, however, handle telling her about Liam. “He’s funny, he’s nice… It’s weird seeing news stuff about him because I read stuff like that and it’s like he’s this hotshot sports star. I guess he is, but in person he’s just a guy. So there’s that and then the mess I’ve made for myself professionally. I can’t believe I let this happen.” I adjusted my glasses, anxiety knotting in my chest.
“You like him,” Lorrie said softly.
My throat tightened at her words. I was starting to fear my feelings were a lot more than like. I took a breath and another gulp of coffee before nodding. “I guess I do. I don’t like being in the gossip pages though. It feels like my life was invaded, and no one even knows who I am.”
“I doubt anyone likes being in the gossip pages. If they do, they’re a reality star and then someday they’ll wake up from the nightmare of that,” Lorrie said wryly. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry about that stupid photo. It won’t go anywhere. I’d like to meet your Liam.”
“He’s not my Liam.” My reply was reflexive, yet I didn’t know what to make of Lorrie’s quick perception of how much Liam mattered to me.
Lorrie grinned. “Whatever. I’ll be in Seattle next month for a nursing conference.”
***
I drove back to Seattle late that afternoon, worries about Liam, my poor decision to let myself get involved with him, and that stupid photo lodged firmly in my brain. I’d managed to shove my worries away for the rest of my visit with Lorrie, but alone in the car, it had taken no more than a few minutes for me to turn a photo, which likely no one other than Lorrie had connected to me, into an epic nightmare in my brain. My brain was flipping back and forth between that and wondering when I’d see Liam again.
Waking up beside him was pure heaven. I’d woken to find myself twined against him with my leg tossed over his, my foot tucked between his calves and my body plastered against his side. I tended toward getting cold when I slept, but with Liam as my personal heater, I was warm and toasty. His black locks had been rumpled and his body of all muscle so tempting, I’d nearly climbed atop him. When I’d unconsciously started to explore his muscled chest—because what else was I to do with his delectable body right there?—he’d turned his head to the side, a slow smile curling his lips and his sleepy blue gaze sending a hot shiver through me. One look from him literally curled my toes.
“Good morning, luv,” he’d said, his eyes dipping down as he rolled slightly to the side and trailed a hand over the dip of my waist and curve of my hip. He’d proceeded to drive me to near incoherence within minutes. We’d used yet another of the condoms Daisy had generously scattered about my apartment. She’d stopped by a few days after our dinner date and distributed an entire box.
A horn honked from behind me on the interstate, jolting my thoughts off of Liam. I glanced up and realized I was about to drive past my exit. I changed lanes and exited off the highway. Within another few minutes, I reached my apartment door and found it unlocked, immediately figuring Daisy was inside. We had keys to each other’s places. I was less likely to stop by hers, solely because I wasn’t often in the area unless I was specifically going to see her. Meanwhile, her job and the gym we both used were close to my place. When I opened the door, she was standing at the kitchen counter, twirling her keys on her index finger and talking on the phone.
She waved at me as I slipped out of my shoes and hung up my jacket. She ended her call and plunked down on the couch as I stepped into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine.
“Wine?” I called out.
“Sure. Wanna order takeout?” Before I managed to answer, she continued as if she was conversing with herself. “We should call Harper and tell her to come by. We haven’t had a girls’ night-in in forever. She called and said she’d be over this way for some meeting this afternoon.”
I carried our two glasses of wine over to the couch, handing one to Daisy and sitting down. “Girls’ night-in sounds good to me.” We’d coined that term during college when we needed to study and wanted company. The three of us would spread dinner out on whatever empty surfaces were available and study into the wee hours of the morning. We didn’t need to study anymore, but we still tried to get together like that every so often. I’d been resisting the urge to see Liam and could seriously use some advice, so it was perfect. “I’ll call Harper, you order takeout.”
Daisy took a swallow of her wine and twirled the glass slowly in her hand. “Anything you want?”
“You pick.”
“Okay, then it’s pizza. It’s shark week for me, so I need carbs and cheese.”
‘Shark week’ was shorthand for that time of the month. We’d simultaneously come up with the nickname one summer when we were deep into studying for board exams and the nature channel’s week long special on sharks happened to be on.
I slipped my phone out of my pocket to call Harper. “Pizza works for me. I don’t need an excuse.”
Hours later, the three of us were lounging on the couch in half comas from the food and wine. I’d yet to bring up the photo in the paper and likely all over the place online because I didn’t like thinking about it. They’d teased me about Liam, but otherwise Harper had a mini family crisis with her mother in the midst of chemo for breast cancer and in a rough patch, so our conversation had been focused elsewhere. We’d moved onto lighter topics, and I was relaxed enough that I finally got up the nerve to say something.
“Did either one of you see the paper or the news online today?” I asked.
Harper rolled her head to the side on the back of the couch, her eyes curious. “You mean the Seattle Observer?”
I nodded as she shook her head. “No. Any reason you’re asking?”
Daisy glanced to me as well, arching a brow. “Is this a current events quiz?”
I rolled my eyes. “God no. Anyway, I went out to see Lorrie today and there’s a photo of me with Liam in there. You can’t really tell it’s me, but I don’t know what the hell to do.”
Harper straightened and Daisy sat up with a squeal. “Oh this is awesome! You and Liam are news.”
“How is this awesome? I’m not news yet because you can barely see me, and I’d rather it stays that way. My God, it’s not the best move for me to even be with him, much less end up in the gossip pages.”
Daisy waved a hand dismissively. “If you’re going to be so freaked out over your job, you should just go tell Dr. Adams you went out to dinner with Liam. She’ll give you some crap about it and then you can stop worrying. They won’t fire you. It’d be one thing if Liam filed a complaint, but it’s not like that’s happening. No way. You’re the best surgeon they have, and you’ve had too many high-profile cases with glowing recommendations. I know you don’t like thinking about it this way, but you’re a moneymaker for them.”
Harper nodded along with Daisy’s words. I looked between them. “You really think I should tell her?”
Dr. Helen Adams was my direct supervisor at the clinic. She’d recruited me straight out of med school. I respected her immensely and felt lucky to have a boss I actually liked as well. She’d stopped doing surgeries a year ago after she developed arthritis in one of her hands. She consulted on cases all over the world. As crazy as part of me thought Daisy’s idea was, it might keep me from driving myself mad with worry over the whole thing. I had enough to juggle in my brain—and heart—when it came to Liam.
Harper spoke up. “I do. You’re going to drive yourself nuts if you don’t. You can’t really undo the fact you’ve had dinner with him twice and…”
“Screwed his brains out,” Daisy interjected with a grin.
Harper rolled her eyes and continued. “You’re going to be all paranoid about it even if you don’t keep seeing him. If you do keep seeing him, there will definitely be more photos like that. He’s a public figure whether you like it or not. If you talk to Dr. Adams now, you can head off the whole
mess becoming a scandal.”
I leaned back into the couch again and looked between them. “Huh? Well, maybe I will. I’ll think about it.”
“In the meantime, bets on how long it takes the rumor mill to name you?” Daisy asked with a sly grin.
“It’s not funny! I don’t like this. I still can’t figure out how I ended up here. We don’t exactly have anything in common, and I don’t know…”
A balled up napkin bounced off my head. “Stop it! You’re just putting up barriers. If you ask me, you’re scared because someone got under your iron skin,” Daisy declared.
Harper laughed softly. “Okay, a bit harsh, but kinda true.”
“Fine. Either way, he’s a world-famous sports star and I’m a doctor. I mean, they have official bets on when he’ll get hitched to someone. That’s is so not the kind of guy I should throw my career on the line for. It’s insane,” I said.
Daisy shrugged. “He’s just a guy. ‘Should’ doesn’t really matter, and it’s silly anyway to say who should fall for who. Maybe he is famous, and obviously he’s hella good at soccer, but I liked him when I met him. He’s funny and nice and pretty damn normal.” She glanced to Harper. “You should meet him. You’re our barometer.”
This time Harper rolled her eyes. “That’s silly. I’d like to meet him though. Any guy that’s got you all in a dither is worth meeting.”
“I’m in a dither?”
Daisy and Harper’s gazes swung to me in unison. “Uh, yeah. Your eyes go all dreamy half the time now,” Daisy said with a choked laugh.
My cheeks got hot, and I took a gulp of wine. Dreamy. As much as I wanted to argue the point, I knew it to be true, and it terrified me.
Chapter 21
Liam
I walked down the hall at the stadium, heading to Coach’s office for a meeting. I figured he wanted to check in about my status. I knew he spoke regularly with Tim and Dr. Monroe. As far as I was concerned, if he wanted to put me on the field sooner than the agreed upon full three months since my surgery, I was ready. It was over a month and a half since Olivia worked her magic on my knee, and I felt good. When I did my PT, there was no lingering pain. The only time I noticed anything was when I first woke up. It was like I needed a bit of grease to oil the joint, and a hot shower did the trick. I’d tried to cajole Tim into bumping up the timeframe, but he was a stubborn bloke, or so I was learning. He insisted my knee needed to be ready for the potential for abrupt motion and was starting on me on a new series of exercises to simulate what my knee would go through during play.
My footsteps were the only sound as I walked along the concrete floors. I loved being in stadiums when they were mostly empty. The spaces felt like hallowed ground then, when the crescendo of the crowds was nothing more than a distant echo, but the feeling I got from playing beat like a drum inside me in the quiet. Coach’s door was open, but I paused beside it and rapped my knuckles. He looked up from his computer and waved me in.
“Come on in, Liam. Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of his desk.
I sat down and leaned back in my chair. Coach angled his head to the side, his perceptive gaze holding mine. After a moment of quiet, he spoke. “I hear from Tim that you might be ahead of schedule with your recovery. He tells me you’re pushing him to clear you to return sooner.”
I nodded. “I feel good. Can’t help but try, eh?”
Coach grinned. “Perhaps not, but you’re waiting. I’d rather have you in tip-top shape than back a little early. Anything else isn’t worth the risk. I appreciate how much work you’ve put into your recovery and also the help you offered Matt. He’s not you and never will be, but whatever you said to him before our game the night before last helped.”
After watching a few challenging practices, I’d taken Matt aside and given him some feedback on how to navigate with the team. Being the playmaker was more than raw physical skill. It involved a deep, tactical understanding of how your particular team meshed. Alex had also gone out of his way to ease the pressure on Matt. I took a breath and nodded. “I’d like to take full credit, but Alex has done his part too. Matt’s under gobs of pressure. He’s holding up well, all in all.”
Coach nodded and picked up a slinky on his desk, idly stretching it back and forth in his hands. He was quiet again for a few beats and I wondered just what he wanted to meet with me about. “I’m sure you’re accustomed to it, but you were in the news last weekend. It doesn’t appear that kind of gossip interfered with your playing back in Britain, so I hope it doesn’t here.”
I was flummoxed and had no clue what Coach was referencing. “Come again?”
He tugged his laptop towards him on the desk. Pulling up his computer screen, he clicked through it and then spun it around, tapping his finger on a picture. I leaned forward to see a photo of Olivia and me from our dinner last weekend. I happened to be facing the window, so it was easy to tell who I was. Olivia was angled away with her face in shadow. A bolt of anger shot through me. I’d learned to ignore this bullshit, but it wasn’t fair to Olivia and I knew she was probably freaking out.
“Bloody hell,” I said, leaning back and running a hand through my hair. I’d never enjoyed the nosiness of the media and certainly didn’t want Olivia to get nervous over this.
“Anyone special?” Coach asked, only his eyes giving away the hint of a smile.
Only the most special woman I’d ever met. But I wasn’t about to say that aloud. Olivia had been politely sidestepping me when I tried to see her again. It had been four days since waking up beside her last Sunday, and I was about out of my mind with missing her. The usual me would’ve already moved on, but the usual me rarely actually slept with a woman. There was sex, but I typically made my way to my own bed. I could only wonder if she’d seen the photo online.
My face must’ve given something away because Coach nodded slowly. “So she is someone special. Well, from my experience, that’s a good thing.”
I couldn’t help but be curious about what he meant. I wasn’t accustomed to being tied up in knots inside. Especially over a woman. “What do you mean?”
Coach gave me a considering gaze and then shrugged. “The life that comes with playing soccer internationally, or any sport for that matter, isn’t easy. It’s wearing and the fawning attention from the media is nothing more than an annoying distraction. Actually finding someone you care about is a good thing no matter what, but in this life, it gives you something you don’t have otherwise—a center for your life and something more important. A woman you love becomes the biggest play of your life, no game will ever come close.”
I stared maybe a few beats too long, my heart banging hard and fast against my ribs. I didn’t quite know what to think. I wasn’t so stupid as to pretend Olivia wasn’t special, but love? I swallowed against the emotion tightening my chest and throat. When I didn’t say anything, Coach continued. “Also, you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d fly solo forever. You come from a close family, and you have a good head on your shoulders. No need to fill me in, but if she’s special, don’t be stupid and let her get away.”
He winked and spun in his chair when his desk phone rang. “Hang on,” he said, quickly picking up the phone. He nodded at whatever the other person said and then glanced to me, covering the phone with his hand. “I need to take this. Unless you’d like to talk more, we’re done. Stick to the PT plan you have and no pushing too hard. Got that?”
I nodded and stood. “Mind closing the door for me, Liam?” he called out as I walked through it. I gave a thumbs up, closed the door behind me and walked down the hall in a semi-daze. I was mentally spinning in circles. I don’t know why what Coach said knocked me sideways, but it did. I supposed it was that even though I had enough sense to realize the way I felt about Olivia was like nothing I’d felt before, I hadn’t had anyone ask me aloud what she meant to me. I needed to see her. Now.
Chapter 22
Olivia
I brushed my
hands over the thin fabric of my scrubs, which did hardly anything to help with the nervous sweat on my palms. I’d performed two surgeries this morning, both of which had gone well. This afternoon was my usual meeting time with Dr. Adams, and I’d spent every day this week worrying about whether or not to talk to her about my dinners with Liam. I’d even called Harper again last night to ruminate aloud. Since Daisy tended toward more emotionally driven advice, I often turned to Harper, who was ever rational, for a reality check. Harper was firmly in the camp that I should talk with Dr. Adams.
“Either that, or you do what you’re doing now, which is driving yourself crazy worrying. The other thing is it seems like Liam actually means something to you. If that’s the case, you don’t want to put yourself in a spot where things get messier than they need to be,” Harper had said softly.
I hadn’t been able to bring myself to admit Liam was starting to mean way too much. I hadn’t been out and out avoiding him, but I’d had excuses not to see him ever since he’d left my apartment Sunday morning. They were legitimate excuses and all related to work, but I could find those anytime between meetings, after hours consultation and the charting documentation that never ended. I was unsettled and out of sorts over the stupid photo.
I’d scrabbled together my nerve and sat across the desk from Dr. Adams while she finished a phone call. When she set the phone down, she adjusted her glasses and smiled over at me. “Sorry about that. How are you today, Olivia?”
I swallowed and managed a nervous smile. “Okay. It’s been a busy week for surgeries, but all have gone well.”
She smoothed a hand over her short gray hair and nodded, her bright blue eyes warm. “Of course they went well! You’re an excellent surgeon. Let’s take a look at some numbers.”
She started to turn in her chair. I knew she likely wanted to review our unit’s quarterly stats on patients seen, recovery times and the like, but I knew once we got started, the only hour I had with her this week would be gone. I was so tempted to nod and go along, but I’d gotten myself so ready to get this over with, I had to. “Actually, there was something I was hoping to discuss before we got to that.”