Hard pass.
I’m about to say no when an image pops into my head. One of light brown eyes and a sprinkling of freckles over her nose. It’s a Friday night… She could conceivably be out. She said she waswalking home from my bar that day a few weeks ago, which is right around the corner from where Niko’s headed later.
I feel like such a loser. I’m debating doing something I never do—and something that might lead to me getting mobbed—just for the slim chance I might run into her. Slim is even pushing it. There are a million places she could be on a Friday night.
Eleanor is a pretty tempting fucking image though.
I shake my head at my own antics and give Niko the answer he’s expecting. “Thanks, bro, but I gotta pass. Maybe next time. Let me know how the bar is,” I tell him, collecting my pads and skates.
He gives me a nod. “Usual lunch before the game tomorrow?”
I give him a quick “Yessir” before shoving my shit in my bag and heading to the showers, trying to convince myself there is no way Eleanor would be at that bar tonight.
Right?
CHAPTER THREE
ELLIE
Holy fudgenuts it’s cold.
I hate to admit it, but Clark Kent was a little bit right. My Bostonian blood is failing me. According to my weather app, the “feels like” temperature is negative fifteen with the wind chill.Negative fifteen.
Would it be morally wrong to call out of work today? Maybe. Also, I’m already fully bundled up for the very daunting thirteen-minute walk to the hospital. Turning back would be illogical. And yet…
I longingly look at my door down the block, imagining my warm bed. I’d like to curl up and rub my legs like a cricket until the cold fades. I turn around and spot the skyway up the road. Boston could take note of the indoor walkways Minneapolis has around the city to help pedestrians when it’s freezing. I forge ahead and try not to think about my bed. Being an adult is hard.
I’m on the last of my three, twelve-hour shifts for the week, and holy moly, I can feel it. People think having four days off per week sounds cushy.Pssshh. I welcome every single one of them to try working my shift in an emergency room and then talk to me.
The absolute chaos and nonstop nature of the ER is both exhausting and thrilling. Back when I decided to pursue being an emergency room nurse, I hadn’t thought about the schedule too much, but it’s proved to be one of my favorite things. With virtually no lulls, the shifts fly by, and by the time I get home I’m so tired I could fall asleep brushing my teeth. And then on my days off I can focus on catching up on reading, trash TV, grocery shopping and sleep, and, occasionally, going out.
I glance over at the bar parallel to where I’m walking now. It’s been almost four weeks since I embarrassed myself in there with Nate the bartender and hot Hat Guy.
I take a moment to study it as I pass by. It’s—I glance at my watch—two thirty-four. That’s right around the time I was in there shooting tequila. I wonder if Superman is in there now.
I get little butterflies thinking of his handsome face and have a momentary pang of regret for not taking him up on his offer to walk me home. I have Dev here and I’ve made friends with some of the other nurses too, but a little bit of loneliness is inevitable with such a big move. And the idea of a partner is…daunting, I guess, but also appealing. I don’t necessarily miss my ex, Josh, but I do miss having someone to talk to about my day, try new hole-in-the-wall restaurants with, and just plain old hang out with. Solitude has its limits.
And, god, I misssex.
It’s been over six months and I’m starting to worry I’ll forget what to do. Is that possible? Oh god, what if I’m bad at it? Josh never complained, but he would never do anything like that anyway.
I just need to rip the Band-Aid off, I suppose. Maybe I’ll go out this weekend and find a proper suitor. That phrasing classes it up a bit, right?
Tearing my gaze away from the bar that’s now almost behind me, I realize it doesn’t even have a name visible from the outside.I wonder what it’s called. I don’t remember seeing any branding inside and the door just has a neonOpensign out front. Ooh, maybe it’s one of those secret places only locals know about! Cool points for Ellie.
I make a mental note to find out the name at some point and focus on getting to work without freezing. I know this would go a lot faster—and be a lot warmer—if I drove. But I don’t like driving. Scratch that. Ihatedriving. Driving in the snow? My personal hell. My old therapist told me it should get better with time, but I haven’t seemed to shake the aversion over the past five years.
So I picked an apartment within walking distance to the hospital. And thankfully the walkways mean the feels-like-negative-fifteen-degrees weather doesn’t give me frostbite. I glance at my car parked down the street behind me.
And at least Icandrive. If I have to. I guess time did help with that part.
Mentally fortifying myself for the last few minutes of the cold, I put my head down and power walk up the sidewalk. Just twelve hours of worktoday and then rip-the-Band-Aid sex is next on the list. After a shower. And sleep. And finding some much-needed boldness for such a task.
Piece of cake.
Why is this so hard?
My internal whining is not productive, but it is making me feel slightly better. It’s Thursday night, and Dev—another nurse and one of the reasons I moved here—and I are at a newish bar close to where I live that she promised would have “lots of cute guys.” I should’ve asked for more qualifiers.
