Page 68 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

“I was checking to make sure housekeeping finished.”

Keisha nods slowly. “Naturally.”

“They did.”

“I can see that.”

“So, there’s no problem.”

“Didn’t say there was.”

Her smile gets wider. I turn away before she can see mine and say: “Don’t you have patients?”

“I do. One of them is asleep, one is waiting for transport, and one has spent the last twenty minutes telling his daughter that he does not need help putting on socks.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“It should. Apparently stubborn men travel in packs.”

I start toward the nurses’ station. Keisha falls into step beside me. “You miss your hockey player.”

I nearly drop the cuff. “He was not MY hockey player.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“He was a patient.”

“A patient you argued with before breakfast every morning.”

“He ignored instructions before breakfast every morning.”

“A patient who made you smile while explaining breathing exercises.”

“I did not smile.”

Keisha stops walking.

I take two more steps before realizing she is no longer beside me. When I turn, she is staring at me with the flat expression nurses reserve for patients who insist their pain is a two while gripping the bedrail hard enough to leave fingerprints.

“Annette.”

“What?”

“You smiled while explaining medications.”

“That proves nothing.”

“Honey, nobody smiles while explaining medications.”

I press my lips together.

She points at me. “That. Right there. You’re doing it again.”

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

I turn toward the station, but Keisha catches my elbow. “Break room. Five minutes.”