His eyebrows shoot up and I notice the half-eaten tray of cafeteria food beside his bed. “My hero,” he says, making grabby hands. “Seriously, hospital food is the worst. I don’t even know what that’s supposed to be.”
I glance at the congealed lump of…I don’t know what.
“That’s disgusting,” I say, dropping the paper bag on his nightstand.
“Tell me about it. Just be glad you don’t have to eat it.” I avert my eyes as he adjusts his gown, making sure all the important bits are covered. As usual, the blankets are pushed down and his broken leg is propped up on a stack of pillows. The hospital is like a freezer, but the cold doesn’t seem to bother Chase. “It tastes even worse than it looks.”
Hard to imagine, but I’m willing to take his word for it because no way in hell am I putting that lumpy brown slop in my mouth.
“I got turkey and roast beef,” I tell him, pulling two sandwiches wrapped in white paper from the bag. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“Anything’s better than that,” he says, jerking his chin toward the abandoned tray. “I’ll take whatever you don’t want.”
“So accommodating.”
He shrugs, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I try.”
I roll my eyes and hand him the roast beef. “Really? I don’t remember you being this accommodating when I’m on duty.”
He flashes a wicked grin and heat pools low in my belly. “What would be the fun in that?”
Touché.
I pull two Cokes and a package of chips from the bag and set everything up on his bedside tray. I have to give Chase credit. Though he’s got to be starving—he’s a big dude after all—he waits for me to start. I drag a chair up next to the bed, and settle in cross-legged to eat my sandwich.
“Oh, my God,” I practically moan. “It feels so good to be off my feet.”
“Long day?” he asks, watching me wiggle into a comfy position.
“The longest.” And, realizing how that sounds, I hastily add, “But totally worth it. I’m learning a lot.”
“Thank you for dinner,” he says, holding up the sandwich. “You didn’t have to do all this and I appreciate it.”
Guilt claws at my chest, because no way should he be thanking me for anything. “Just doing my part to nurse Waverly’s star kicker back to health.”
While also ogling his sculpted pecs like a creeper.
“Duly noted, but your efforts are appreciated nonetheless.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Careful, Harper. You keep talking like that and I’ll make a fan out of you yet.”
If I’m not careful? That ship has sailed. I may not be a fan of football, but I am a fan of Chase Spellman. Not that I’d ever tell him. Lord knows his ego is big enough. Plus, there’s no future, so what’s the point?
Still, heisnice to look at.
We eat in companionable silence, a sports show playing quietly on the TV as we devour our sandwiches. I missed lunch, thanks to our rooftop foray, but it was worth it to see the smile on Chase’s face. The guy hadn’t been outside in over a week and it was hard to tell if he was more excited by the fresh air or the sunshine.
Either way, the rooftop circuit was a hit and I’ve added a recommendation for carefully supervised recreation to his care plan. To keep his spirits up and promote healing. Not because I enjoyed spending time with him.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Whatever. Fine. So I enjoy Chase’s company. It doesn’t mean I’m going to take Bri’s advice and suck him like a Blow Pop.
He sighs heavily. “That was amazing.”
“Huh?”
Oh, God. Was I thinking out loud?
“The food,” Chase says, a wrinkle forming between his brows.
