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“I’m Harley. Yes, like the motor—”
“I want you to leave.Now.” I dart a glance at my only two avenues of escape: the bathroom which is closer to him than me, and the window which leads to a drop so high that my panic about who this guy is and what he wants from me means I’m seriously considering it. I angle my body an inch to the window, ready to run for it.
The amusement in his eyes fades as he takes a step toward me. “You don’t have to—”
“Hey, Harley.” Olivia appears behind him, a grin on her face. “Were you looking for me?”
He glances over at her. “Hey, beautiful. Simon, actually, but since I was on this floor, I thought I’d check in on his mysterious Jane Doe.” The grin he shoots me is playful.
I don’t smile back.
“He’s on later. Do you want me to tell him you were looking for him?” Olivia asks, her gaze moving from Harley to me and back again as if she can feel the tension radiating between us.
“No need. I’ll catch him later.” The man—Harley—steps back and turns to leave, but before he does, he angles his head toward me. “Get well soon, Jane.”
Again, I don’t respond, just wait for him to leave.
Once he’s gone, Olivia crosses over to me. “Are you okay? He didn’t scare you, did he? Harley’s a bit of a flirt, but he’s harmless.”
Something about her gaze makes me think she knows I have a less than pleasant history with men, and she’s right. “Is he a doctor?”
“Surgeon. Cardiothoracic.”
I blink up at her in confusion.
“Uh, sorry. When you’re around doctors all day… heart and lung surgeon. Chest too, but his specialty is the heart.”
“A guy calledHarleyis a heart surgeon?”
So definitely not a stoner then. Maybe not even a surfer.
He looked young enough to play a TV doctor, notbean actual heart surgeon. He couldn’t have been older than thirty-five. And that’s a push.
She barks out a laugh. “I know, right? They must have tortured him in med school, but he’s one of the best. Surgeonanddecent guy.” Her expression softens. “So you have nothing to be afraid of around him.”
I lower my head. “I guess.”
Olivia clears her throat. “You look like you’re ready to get some exercise.”
My gaze returns to hers. “I feel like my muscles are wasting away the longer I lie here. A walk would be nice.”
Her smile widens. “Well, I can help with that. Let me grab some slippers for your feet and a walker and we can do a lap of the floor. Build up a big appetite for lunch.”
“A lap sounds good.” It’ll help me figure out the best way I can leave, and where I can grab some clothes before I make my escape. “Maybe two.”
* * *
I don’t manage two laps. As it is, I barely manage one before the combination of the pain in my ribs, my throbbing fractured wrist from holding onto the walker, and a weakness that comes from going for too long without moving defeats me.
After Olivia helps me use the bathroom and I slip back into bed, I sleep again, so exhausted I feel like I’ve run a marathon instead of having walked for five minutes.
When I flutter my eyes open, the light outside is less sharp.
Must be afternoon.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” a warm voice calls from the door. Olivia. “I didn’t want to wake you, but lunch is about to be served.”
“Okay.” I just hope this meal will be one I can recognize. “How long?”
