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“I’m Doctor Billings.”
Kaiden shifts in the chair, wincing, before he replies, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s a good thing it’s not you in this bed. The Coyotes need you too much,” Doctor Billings says.
Kaiden pats the mattress. “I’d rather be here than Rori, any day.”
“Before you leave, I just want to go over a few things with you.” He glances at Kaiden. “Are you bringing Miss Russo home?”
“I am. And I’ll also be with her if she needs anything at home.”
“You’re going to make sure she has minimal screen time, which I know is a difficult thing these days.”
“I’m hardly ever on my phone or a computer,” I say.
“Excellent. Make sure she isn’t vomiting and monitor for any signs of confusion. Headaches are normal for someone with a concussion.”
“I know the drill, Doc. I’ve had a concussion or two myself,” Kaiden says.
“All the instructions are here.” He hands over the discharge papers to me. “You’ll need to follow up with an orthopedist in thirty-six hours.”
“Thank you, Doctor Billings.”
“Take care.” He smiles at me, then turns to Kaiden. “Good luck this season, Mr. Hart.”
“Thanks, Doc.” His gorgeous blue eyes land on me and brighten with happiness. “Let’s go home, baby.”
* * *
“Kaiden, it’s only a broken arm.” I groan. “Stop treating me like I’m helpless.”
“Humor me and let me take care of you,” he says.
“You’ve been taking care of me for two days, and I need you to take it down about one hundred notches.”
“That’s a tall order,” he says. “Maybe I can back off a notch or two to start.”
“Fine.” I sigh, watching him leave the porch. I turn to Serena where she’s stretched out in the hammock. “He’s driving me nuts.”
“Yeah, I can see where someone taking such great care of you could be annoying,” she drolls.
“I know how lucky I am that he cares so much. That doesn’t mean the incessant hovering and waiting on me can’t be irksome.”
“I’m just teasing you. I know how fiercely independent you are. I’m sure this has been a huge adjustment for you.”
“It has.”
“But at least your recuperation is taking place under the best of circumstances. You’re in a freaking beach house—make that mansion—and you have a hockey god playing nursemaid. I’d willingly break my arm if it gets me my very own hockey player. Hell, I’d even break both arms.”
“Then you wouldn’t be able to touch him,” I point out.
“My tongue works fine.” She wiggles it around to demonstrate.
Laughter bubbles out of me. She’s crazy and I love her for how much she makes me laugh.
“Do you want to go in the pool for a bit?” I ask.
“How’s that going to work with your cast and all?”
