On the Surface (In the Zone) (17 page)

Alex handed Jason a glass of ice water so he could dump it over the head of the hapless kid. This drenching was the traditional penalty for a shoe-checker caught in the act. Everyone in the room laughed as Primavera stood up, soaked and scowling.

“Damn it,” he said. “I almost had you.”

“‘Almost’ being the operative word. Nice try, Pasta.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dr. Oliphant caught Erin as she was coming out of the hospital pharmacy. “Erin, do you have a minute?”

She smiled and put her hands in the pockets of her scrubs. “Sure.”

He led her to the patient lounge, which was currently empty. People got on and off the elevators, but she hoped the conversation wouldn’t take long.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you were free for dinner tomorrow. A friend of mine recommended this French bistro and I thought we might go check it out. Maybe catch a movie afterward.”

“Oh. I...that’s really nice of you but...” She sighed, feeling like a heel. “I don’t think it’s going to work out between us.”

“Yeah. I kind of saw that coming. I was too late.” He looked rueful.

“Yeah, I guess you were,” she said.

“That’s okay. It’s probably better this way. Like I said, hospital romances can be real bears.”

“Ahem,” a familiar male voice said.

She looked to see Tim standing there, a big bouquet of gerbera daisies in one hand, his hockey stick in the other. From the tight expression on his face, it looked as if he wanted to jab Adrian in the stomach with the latter.

“I’d ask if I were interrupting something, but clearly I am,” Tim said in a tight voice.

“Tim, calm down,” Erin said.

“I’m completely calm.” He tapped the carpet with his stick. “Here’s calm.” The stick whooshed to the right eight feet. “Here’s off the deep end. I’m somewhere in here in the middle.”

Adrian exchanged a glance with Erin and chuckled. “Stand down, Hollander. Nothing’s going on.”

Tim tucked his stick under his arm and watched Adrian stride away, still clearly in primeval-caveman mode.

“So what was that?” she asked.

“What?” He turned to her, still half frowning.

“That exhibition of testosterone. Just because we slept together,” she whispered those to words, “doesn’t mean you have the right to intimidate men I have innocent conversations with.”

“That wasn’t just any man. That was Sweater Guy. The one you wanted the hat for.”

She blinked in surprise. “How did you know I was getting the hat for him?”

“Process of elimination.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. You poked your nose into something that wasn’t any of your business.”

“It sure as hell is my business.” He glanced toward the elevator where a family with young children had gathered, then lowered his voice. “Because I’m...” He took a deep breath and leaned his stick against one of the chairs. “I’m crazy about you and I want us to be a couple. I know it’s too fast, and I’m probably the biggest idiot alive for telling you this so soon, but you have to understand why I want to spend twenty-four hours a day with you, why I’m texting you every ten seconds when we’re apart, why I bought a toothbrush today for you to keep at my place.” Near the end of that speech, his voice had gone soft and so had his expression.

He met her gaze and in his gray eyes she saw a challenge, uncertainty, and buckets of humble entreaty. A rational part of her brain put on the brakes. It was too fast. Yes, he was a whole bunch of wonderful wrapped up in an über sexy male body, but there was no harm in not rushing into anything. No harm at all. Absolutely nothing would be lost if they took it nice and slow. Like tortoises.

But her irrational heart told her no one wanted to be a stupid tortoise. She needed to grab all the gusto she could because you never knew when the ship was gonna hit an iceberg. Tim sounded all gung-ho, full steam ahead, let me present you with this symbolic toothbrush, but for all she knew, he might get tired of her a few weeks from now. And if that happened, she had to be prepared or her heart was going to be badly broken. She had to steadfastly refuse to expect anything lasting to come of this. Tim would be an affair she’d look back fondly on when she was old and gray. She’d tell her granddaughters about the handsome hockey player who swept her off her feet when she was younger and the torrid affair they’d had one fall.

She sat down across from him. “You bought me a toothbrush?”

Quick as that damned puck he played with, he caught on that she wasn’t mad at him anymore. A slow grin—the one that made her feel like her panties might melt—spread across his handsome face.

“I did. A pink one.”

“So you’re okay with having pink in your house.”

“I am very okay. I am—” he lowered his voice, “—Couples Man.”

She laughed. “Is that like your superhero alter ego? By day you’re Tim Hollander, fiercely intimidating hockey player, but by night, you’re...Couples Man?”

“That’s right.” He puffed his chest out. “I do not mind holding hands in public.” He moved forward to kneel in front of her and took her hand. “I willingly go to chick flicks. I don’t care if you use my razor, and pink toothbrushes hold no power over me. In fact...” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled something small out of it and her heart stopped.

“
I
know it’s too fast.
I
want us to be a couple.
I
want to spend twenty-four hours a day with you.
” Holy crap. He hadn’t been kidding.

“Oh my God, Tim. Get up. You can’t do this at the hospital! And anyway this is too soon. I don’t—we haven’t even talked about this...”

That’s when she realized the item he’d pulled out of his pocket was not an engagement ring.
Idiot!
It was a house key.

He blinked at her in confusion. Embarrassment flooded her body and her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She wanted to crawl under the chair. She wanted to jump into a black hole and never be seen again. She wanted to whack Tim in the head so hard he got amnesia and forgot this horrifying misunderstanding, especially when it finally dawned on him what she’d thought. He got red in the face too. He stood up quickly.

“Oh hey, I just...I was—” he stammered. He rubbed the key between his fingers as if it might miraculously turn into a ring so he could save the situation. “I wanted you to be able to come and go whenever you wanted because our schedules are always so screwed up.”

Movement just outside her peripheral vision caught her attention. Darla was walking quickly toward the nurse’s station. Great. How much had she seen? Erin would have to deal with her later. She turned back to Tim.

“This is great.” She took the key and slipped it into the pocket of her scrubs. “Great idea. Really.”

“I got a parking pass for you too. Just tell George, the attendant, who you are next time you come by, sign the form, and he’ll give it to you.”

“Okay, great. Will do.” She stood up. “I have to get back to work.”

“Wait a sec. I, ah, I have a quick favor to ask you first.” He bent and picked up his hockey stick. “I need you to kiss my stick again. For luck.”

Thank God. A diversion.

They went to the nurse’s dressing room where her purse was. Tim wanted a visible lipstick print this time. After she laid a dark red kiss on the strip of white tape he’d put on the metal for that express purpose, he asked about Luke’s health.

Tim had left the boy a T-shirt, a hat, a big foam finger, a puck, an NHL blooper DVD and a pennant, all autographed by Tim. When they’d finally allowed Luke to have it, his grin had been so huge, it took up half his face. When she’d told him Tim had borrowed his poster and was going to bring it back, signed by all the players, she thought he might faint with happiness.

“He’s doing well. He absolutely loved the poster. It’s up on his wall. If anyone comes into his room, he tells them about it.” She put on a little boy voice. “‘This poster was signed by every single member of the Barracuda hockey team.’ You can visit him if you wear a gown, mask and gloves.”

“Man, I wish I had time today.”

“Got an afternoon game?” she asked.

“Not exactly...”

She arched an eyebrow.

“I, ah, have to take a nap,” he said under his breath.

The awkwardness seemed to be dissipating. Thank goodness. She shooed it away faster with some teasing.

“Well, Lord knows you need your beauty sleep.”

Before she knew it, he had her in his arms and was tickling her. “Very funny,” he said. “Pre-game naps are important.” He gave her a light slap on the behind. “Tell Luke I’ll be back when I have more time.”

“Will do.”

* * *

Later that evening, Erin checked in on Luke, who of course was watching the game. She found it almost impossible to stay on task, knowing Tim was playing not twenty minutes away. Plus, it was far easier to focus on the exciting game than dwell on the Misunderstanding That Heretofore Would Never Be Mentioned.

When Luke shouted about ten minutes into the game, she hurried to his room, yanking up her mask. “What happened?” she asked, breathless.

“He scored!”

“Who? Tim?”

Tammy slid to a stop and pulled her mask in place too.

“Yeah! Wait, they’re gonna replay it.”

The three of them watched Tim scoop up the puck and fire it right into the net above the goalie’s right shoulder. They all whooped it up. The Barracudas were ahead by one.

“The first goal is really important,” Luke told Erin. “It sets the tone for the rest of the game.”

The patient in 526 was due for his meds, so Erin left, but for the duration of the game, whenever she got a spare moment, she cruised past Luke’s room for an update.

“Still 1-0, Nurse Erin.”

“Calgary power play. Griffin’s in the box. Holding.”

“1-1 now.”

“Tied at two.”

“2-4. Come on, Barracudas get off your butts! They’re beating us!”

“Luke, don’t get too excited or I’ll have to turn the TV off.”

“Okay. I won’t. I forgot.” He let his body go limp and she chuckled.

After the second period, they were still down by two goals, and Erin convinced herself that Tim would need to be consoled. She was off at nine tonight, but he wouldn’t be done until much later.

When her shift was over, the game was almost done. She went directly to Luke’s room.

“What’s the score?”

Luke didn’t answer. She glanced at the corner of the TV screen. ‘Cudas down by one, a little over three minutes left in the period. His eyes were glued to the TV. When Erin moved to get a better angle of sight, she saw Jason Locke had the puck and he was all alone heading toward the goal. A breakaway.

“Come on,” she said under her breath. “Get it in there, get it in there...”

“Go, man, go go go go go...” Luke chanted. “YES!”

Locke faked like he was going to shoot to the right, got the goalie moving that direction, then fired it left where it banked off the pipe with a loud
clang
and went into the net.

Erin shrieked and did a little victory dance and Luke pumped his fist in the air. Locke’s teammates surrounded him to do their helmet-bumping, congratulatory huddle while the crowd cheered.

With that goal, the Barracudas tied the score, but the period ended without another goal, which meant—

“Overtime!” Luke decreed, cackling like a maniacal villain.

Erin wrung her hands, unbelievably tense. She felt as though she’d drunk eighteen cups of coffee. A commercial for some sports-utility vehicle played.

“Do you know what overtime is, Nurse Erin?” Luke asked.

“Yes, I do. I read
Hockey for Dummies
.”

Luke stared at her, then threw his head back and cracked up.

“It’s a good book,” Erin protested. “I learned a lot.”

“No, that’s good, Nurse Erin. If you’re gonna marry Holly, you should know the rules of the game.”

“What?” Erin exclaimed. “Who told you we were getting married? Wait a second. Nurse Darla. Right?”

“Right.”

Erin didn’t know what to say to that. Darla must have seen more than Erin thought.

“Nurse Tammy thinks you’re gonna get married too.”

Erin cringed. Did the whole hospital think that? No wonder Adrian had given up. But then, what were they to think when Tim sent flowers to the hospital regularly and went all He-Man over her in the middle of the waiting room? Maybe they’d seen that fan video of her kissing his stick at the arena. After all, everyone knew that if you kissed a guy’s stick—

“It’s on!” Luke said, turning up the volume.

They started the overtime play with Tim’s line on the ice—Jason Locke as the center, Alex Sullivan on the left, Tim on the right. Erin’s anxiety level spiked.

It’s just a game
, she told herself.
It’s just a game.

One of the Flames got the puck after the face-off. He passed it to a teammate, but it deflected off someone’s stick, hit Tim’s face and sailed on. It happened so fast, Erin couldn’t believe it. Tim put a hand up and she thought she saw blood, but before she could figure out how badly he was hurt, the cameras left him to follow the action.

“Looks like Hollander caught it in the mouth,” the announcer said. “He’s heading for the bench.”

And that’s all they said before turning back to the actual play.

Erin wanted to yell,
Point the cameras at the bench
,
you f-ing assholes!
Show me Tim
,
goddamn it!
But she couldn’t, not in front of Luke.

“Hey, don’t worry, Nurse Erin,” he said, having noticed her distress. “It’s not like he was knocked out or anything.”

But what did Luke know? He was just a little kid. It could be any number of things. Tim didn’t wear a face shield like many of the other players, so it could be a maxillary or mandibular fracture. Or a lost tooth, or maybe lots of teeth. Wasn’t that the joke about hockey players? That they didn’t have any teeth? Or, God, if he’d injured his eye and couldn’t see, that could be the end of his career, and he loved hockey so much...

The more she thought about it, the more agitated she became. She couldn’t stay here. She had to go to him.

“Erin, what’s wrong?” Tammy asked as Erin buzzed past her on her way to get her purse and keys.

“Tim was hurt.” Erin pushed a swivel chair in the nurse’s station out of her way.

“Oh no. What happened?”

“I don’t know. He was bleeding.”

“Did they carry him out?”