Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been itching to spend more time with my favorite nurse and she made it happen.
Besides, Rosemary was right. Being cooped up in the hospital sucks. Longest weekend of my life, bar none. A few of the guys stopped by to hang on Saturday, and on Sunday, I spent the day in my room watching the Steelers pound the Browns with my parents. But being laid up when the sun’s shining outside? It’s basically the worst.
I’d rather stare down a fifty-yard field goal with two seconds left on the clock.
When the elevator finally arrives, Harper wheels me in backward, her sweet cherry blossom scent filling the small space. I inhale deeply. She smells like a dream—proving the endless tang of disinfectant hasn’t completely deadened my sense of smell—but my enthusiasm comes to a quick end when she pushes the button for the fifth floor.
So much for spending time with my favorite nurse.
“I thought we were going to check out the rooftop garden?” I say, disappointment coursing through my veins.
“We are,” she says, “but this elevator won’t take us all the way up. We need to switch on five.”
We get out on the fifth floor, Harper taking care to keep my left leg, which is sticking straight out thanks to a raised leg rest, clear of obstacles.
“Thanks for doing this,” I say, as she pushes me down the hall. “I was going stir-crazy back in my room.”
“No visitors?” she asks, a note of surprise in her voice.
“Not today. The guys have training camp and my parents are working. They run the local hardware store in Millheim.” I adjust my arms on the armrests, trying to get comfortable. These chairs were clearly not made for big guys. “You know how it is, no rest for the weary. It’s one of the reasons my parents have pushed me so hard to get a degree,” I admit. “I’ll be the first college graduate in my family when I get back to campus.”
“That’s amazing,” she says, her voice thick with an emotion I can’t identify. “Your parents must be really proud.”
“You have no idea.” We roll past a nursing station, but no one pays us any attention. It’s brighter and more cheerful here than in the surgical unit. Colorful posters and murals line the walls, and if it weren’t for Harper, I’d be asking for a transfer. “Our family room is like a shrine to every academic and athletic achievement of my life. My mom isthatmom. It used to embarrass the hell out of me, but I’m pretty much used to it now.”
Harper laughs and there’s a levity I haven’t heard before. It’s nice and if anyone deserves it, she does. From what I’ve seen, she’s a hard worker, busting her ass to finish her degree and dedicating herself to others. “Sounds nice.”
“Play your cards right and I’ll invite you over to see the plastic trophy I won in the third grade spelling bee.” I tilt my head back and when she glances down, I wink at her. “Second place, baby.”
She bursts out laughing, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth as we pass a surly looking old dude in a white coat.
“What about your parents?” I ask, determined to untangle the puzzle that is Harper Payne. Despite my attraction to her, I don’t actually know much about her. “Do you come from a long line of do-good medical professionals?”
“Not quite,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her words. “My parents are both dentists.”
“No shit.” I sit up straight. “Just like Hermione Granger?”
She laughs and this time it’s deep and throaty, the kind of sexy sound that has me imagining other uses for her mouth. “I never would’ve guessed Waverly’s starting kicker was such a Potterhead.”
I shrug. “There are worse things to be.”
We’ve nearly reached the end of the hall, and as we roll past a large room with floor-to-ceiling windows, I throw up a hand, signaling for Harper to stop. “Have you been holding out on me, Nurse Payne?”
The wheelchair comes to a stop and I scan the room, which is finished with hardwood floors, colorful furniture that looks way more comfortable than anything in my room, and the pièce de résistance—a media center complete with Xbox.
Harper leans down, lips so close to my ear I can feel the warmth of her breath on my cheek. “It’s a teen lounge,” she says. “Emphasis on teen.”
“But they have video games,” I argue, raising my arms in protest. “Just let me play one game.”
She cocks a brow and gives me a wicked smile. “Sorry, Chase. Can’t do it. Hospital rules.”
“Again with the rules?” Harper’s blue eyes dance with mischief. Hell, maybe she brought me past the lounge just to torture me. “I’ll be quick. I promise.”
She rolls her eyes and huffs out a laugh. “Words every woman wants to hear.”
And with that, we’re off again, my chair rolling slowly over the tile floor.
“If I didn’t know better,” I grumble, “I’d say you’re enjoying this.”
