Page 27 of The Cutting Edge
“Barb, you big flirt. You know my heart is already spoken for.”
“You can’t blame a dame for trying,” says Nurse Barb as she wheels the cart out of the room.
You certainly can’t. Not with a guy like Logan.
Chapter ten
Logan
Well,Iwillsaythis. It’s nearly impossible to have a decent conversation in a hospital room. Somebody’s always coming in, flipping on the lights, checking IVs, and generally ruining any kind of chemistry or momentum you’ve got going.
And I’m definitely feeling the chemistry. It seems like Coco is too, but honestly, I have no idea if I should push it further or back off.
I can’t believe I just got cockblocked by Nurse Barb, of all people.
If I’m using my brain, I should definitely back off.
I don’t know what I’m doing here again. It’s like I can’t seem to stay away. Sure, it’s easy to blame my hospital visits on Poppy’s concern for her skating teacher, or my worries about Coco’s head injury, but that’s only one part of why I’m here.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve always thought Coco was stunning, and I’ve had a bit of a crush on her for a while. But I stayed as far away from Coco as I could without being impolite because I really didn’t need any distractions this season – plus, Poppy adores her and I wouldn’t want Poppy to lose her if we got together and it didn’t work out. My life is already crowded and complicated enough as it is. That’s why I don’t date. Well, that and I don’t want to bring anyone into Poppy’s life who won’t be around when she graduates high school. The kid has had too much upheaval in her life already. The occasional hotel hookup if I’ve got some post-game energy to burn off? Sure. But actual date-dating, where you take somebody out to dinner and go water skiing or to a concert or something… that’s something I haven’t done since Halya and I figured out we were better off as friends before Poppy was born.
And don’t get me wrong, there are definitely times when I think about the idea of having someone to share my life with. When I feel envious of some of my buddies’ relationships. My life is just incredibly complicated right now. I can’t risk anything that would distract me from my playing or my daughter.
Which is why it’s so perplexing that I can’t seem to stop thinking about Coco, or making more promises to visit, or why I just want to sit by her bed and make her laugh until they let her out of this place. I don’t even like most people. Why do I keep finding reasons to talk to her, to be around her? It’s like being 17 all over again. This is definitely not part of the plan.
There’s just something about her that makes me feel like I want to know more. Something behind those fascinating green eyes, and that wicked wit, and her kindhearted nature that is as magnetic for me as fresh ice. Truly kind people are one in a million, aren’t they?
Coco bites into a warm roll, “Oh! These are so good! You have to try one.” I nod my agreement with Coco on the rolls, and we spend the rest of the dinner chatting easily - heavy on the flirting.
I love the flirting. I haven’t been able to get the flirting out of my mind all day.
I was so close to kissing Coco, and I’m crushed that I didn’t get the opportunity to taste those lips. I’m on a mission now, and there’s no way I’m letting that opportunity pass me by a second time.
When we’re done with dinner, I wrap up all the containers, napkins, silverware, and stuff and stick them back inside the insulated bag.
“That was so delicious, I can’t thank you enough, Logan. You really know how to treat a girl right.” She smiles and yawns, stretching in a way that reminds me a little of the oversized stretches of kittens – you know, when the stretch seems bigger than they are.
What a weird comparison. Clearly, I’ve got it bad.
“Are you tired, would you like me to leave now?” I ask, trying to be polite, but hoping the answer is no. I probably should go, we’ve got our last game before the playoffs tomorrow and I need to catch up on sleep if I’m going to play well.
“You can stay, I’m just a little stiff from spending most of my day in bed.”
Leave it. Don’t say it.
Do. Not. Say. What. You. Are. Thinking. About being stiff and spending the day in bed.
Do. NOT.
She pushes the now-clean tray table towards the end of the bed and stretches to touch her toes, holding the stretch for a few seconds. She’s graceful and lissome, like a ballet dancer, and I’m completely captivated. And also relieved that she doesn’t seem quite ready to kick me out quite yet.
Not wanting to be a creeper, I look away and busy myself with zipping up the insulated bag and placing it near the doorway.
“Do you need to go for a walk or something?” I ask.
She laughs, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. It’s not as bad as yesterday, but I’m still having some dizziness when I’m upright.”
“Okay, but let me know if you change your mind, I promise to do my best to keep you from falling.”
