Page 19 of Offside Attraction

Rhonda threw up her free hand. “Ugh, now it’s you, too? Is everyone just going to keep rubbing it in my face that I’m going to die alone in my house?”

Penny snorted, her phone camera still rolling. “Rhonda, I think?—”

“Do you want to come watch me overnight, Jordan? Would that make you more comfortable?” Rhonda slapped her hand on the bed next to her.

Jordan wet his lips, trying not to laugh. "So. Might be a good idea to let her crash on your couch.”

“Yeah.” Penny tried to keep a straight face.

“Keep an eye out for any other symptoms. She's had her dose of Benadryl and steroids, but if she starts to have trouble breathing or you notice any swelling, get her back here immediately."

Penny nodded, her expression sobering. She dropped her phone. "Got it. And if she wakes up in the night?"

"Just make sure she's comfortable. She can take another dose of Benadryl if she needs it, but it might make her a bit groggy in the morning. Everything’s on the paperwork."

“Mmkay. Thanks for all your help, Jordan."

“No problem.” He stood in front of the bed and locked eyes with Rhonda. He didn’t want to say anything that would incriminate her. She’d made it clear at the bar that she didn’t want anyone on the Snowballs to know they knew each other. But he also couldn’t leave without giving her some kind of message. “Hope you feel better soon. If you need anything, I guess you know where to find me.”

Rhonda slow-blinked like a cat. “I guess I do.”

“Oookay, let’s get you out of here.” Penny stood and helped Rhonda from the bed. Jordan turned toward the door, then stopped when Penny asked, “How’s the shoulder?”

Jordan turned back. “Like new.” He rotated it to prove his point.

Rhonda’s jaw dropped. “You know about his shoulder?” She shot daggers at him. “Did you two?—”

“Physical therapy.” Jordan cut her off before she could expose their history. “Last year. She treated my shoulder. I think she does have a thing for hockey players, though.”

Rhonda was still glaring at Penny. Jordan left before he could hear the end of that conversation, a smug smile still on his face. She was jealous. She thought he was hot, and she didn’t want another woman touching his shoulders. Jordan made a quick trip to the washroom to splash water on his face. He still had two hours left on his shift, and he was currently pitching an average size tent in his scrubs.

Chapter

Five

Rhonda

Rhonda wokeup feeling like her head was stuffed with cotton, every muscle in her body heavy and sluggish. She blinked at the ceiling, piecing together where she was. Right. Penny and Brett’s new guest room. She lifted up the sheets. In her bra and panties. Perfect. Hopefully Brett didn’t see anything he didn’t want to.

Sunlight filtered in through gauzy white curtains. A tall, unmarked dresser stood against one wall, and a reading chair was tucked in the corner with an Instagram-worthy stack of books on the delicate side table next to it. A watercolour of peonies hung on the far wall, and the walls were a soft grey just like the rest of the house. It was simple but cozy, and she’d take that over the fluorescent lights of urgent care any day.

Rhonda pushed herself up on one elbow, squinting at the clock on the side table. 8:12 a.m. Her heart thudded, her Cortisol spiking—had she slept through an alarm? Had she even set an alarm?

Her phone sat on the nightstand, charging, and she grabbed it, flipping through her calendar. Nothing scheduled today. She had no hospital visits, no appointments. Her heart released its grasp on her throat and settled back in her chest.

Which made plenty of space for her mind to circle back to last night. She groaned, pressing her palms against her face as flashes of moments and conversations in the urgent care came back, hazy but vivid. Aaron had been standing next to her, his hand on her arm, but then . . . Jordan.

Her cheeks grew warm as she remembered him walking through the door. The way he’d frozen, the whites of his eyes growing. How he’d recognized her right away was beyond her. By how tight her skin felt, she must’ve looked like she’d run into a beehive with her mouth open.

She thought of his hands brushing over her skin as he checked her vitals, his voice saying “just a little pinch” as he administered the IV. The whole thing felt like a fever dream, but Rhonda glanced down at her arm and found the cotton ball and tape still there in the crook of her elbow.

Fenugreek.Rhonda shivered at the memory of her throat on fire, the sensation of a hand squeezing around her neck. How many foreign dishes had she eaten in blissful ignorance? And what else could it be hiding in? She made a mental note to always carry the EpiPen. She was going to have to purchase a larger bum bag.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded to the small washroom attached to the guest room. Gleaming white tiles, an oval mirror, towels in greys and creams. It was so Penny—everything in its place, clean and functional.

Her own washroom, on the other hand, looked like she’d just checked in for a week-long vacation. It wasn’t too far from reality, considering how much she travelled. Everything was out. Easily accessible. She’d tried the whole organization thing, but she didn’t have the patience to put her tincture bottles away just to get them out again in eight hours. Maybe if someone else were affected by the lack of counter space, she’d suddenly acquire the willpower.

Rhonda splashed cold water on her face and took a moment, the exhaustion settling deeper into her bones. There was a profound hollowness behind her eyes. An ache in the muscles of her jaw.

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