Page 23

CHAPTER 23

HEL

H el sat there, her fingers entwined with Frost’s and watched him as his breathing slowed and evened out. His hand was clammy where it clutched onto her, but she didn’t let go. She didn’t want to let go.

With ice pressed against her throbbing eye, she wished things were different. She wished she hadn’t met a man who made her heart flutter. No, that wasn’t right. As she looked at his face, she was glad she had met him. But she couldn’t see any future where, even if he did feel the same as her, that things could work out between them.

He had a job in Canada, and that’s where his family lived as well. And she couldn’t realistically go over there. She couldn’t leave her parents and live so far away. Not with Ken gone already and Maggie acting like they didn’t exist.

So that was it, this thing between them. It couldn’t happen.

Hel told herself all of the logical reasons, but she didn’t let go of his hand, and her mind flickered back to their first kiss, which was barely a kiss. A smile curved at the corner of her mouth as their brush of lips meant more to her than any number of passionate kisses she had been given in the past.

The noise in the department faded around her, and she found her eyes fluttering shut, and in a hospital chair, next to the bed of a man she could never have, she drifted off to sleep.

The cold ice dropping from Hel’s hand and hitting her lap woke her up. Blinking in surprise, she glanced down at her watch and breathed a sigh of relief when she realised she had only slept for a few minutes.

Gently, she tugged her hand from Frost’s and immediately regretted it, feeling a cold shiver run through her.

Getting quietly up, she stared down at the sleeping giant, who looked so soft in sleep, compared to the tough man he was when awake. He hadn’t hesitated earlier, taking the patient down in seconds. She shivered again as she recalled how he jumped to her defence. It made her feel a lot of things she shouldn’t.

He stirred in his sleep, a frown crossing his brow, and Hel resisted the urge to lean forward and smooth out his eyebrows, instead stepping away from the bed and leaving to fetch the plaster saw.

“Hel. Are you okay? How’s your face?” The charge nurse bustled up to her in the corridor.

“Hey, Nat. It’s fine. Sore, but I’ll live,” Hel said. Even though it wasn’t just sore, it throbbed in time with the headache developing behind her eyes.

“Shouldn’t we X-ray your face? Make sure you don’t have an orbital floor fracture?”

Hel huffed. Shit, Nat was right. She hadn’t even thought about it, and she should have. It was literally her job. “You’re right. I’ll go and check in at the front desk. I’ll ask one of the regs to write me an X-ray form.”

“How’s your knight in shining armour? Or should I say hospital gown?” Nat wiggled her eyebrows.

“He’s okay.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Nat asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

“No,” Hel denied, shaking her head, but even to her own ears, her voice sounded regretful. “He’s my housemate.”

“Housemate with benefits?” Nat sounded hopeful.

“No!” Hel exclaimed. “The only benefit is me not being homeless.” An image of his lips brushing hers flitted across her mind, and she pushed it away.

“Shame. He’s a giant hunk of man. What does he do for work? He looks fit.” Nat wiggled her eyebrows and giggled.

“He’s just retired from playing professional ice hockey.” Where he swept her off her feet as if she weighed nothing.

“Nice. He didn’t sound Australian.”

“No. He’s Canadian. He’s over for a season and heading home in a few months.” Hel swallowed down a lump in her throat.

“That’s a shame. The way he sprung to your defence. Well, it made my heart race with excitement. That’s the kind of man you should try and keep.”

Hel didn’t say anything because all she wanted to do was agree. She wanted to keep him. Instead, she shrugged a noncommittal answer and said, “I should go and check in at triage.”

She escaped down the corridor before Nat could question her more, registered at the front desk and grabbed the plaster saw so she could check Frost’s leg.

“Frost,” Hel whispered and touched his shoulder. Her fingers lingered, even though she knew they shouldn’t.

She observed his sandy eyelashes flutter as he woke up. Why did boys—actually, in Frost’s case, she should say men—always have the nicest eyelashes? They were long and full with a small curve at the end. They were the kind of eyelashes she dreamed of, as her ginger ones were non-existent if she didn’t put some mascara on them.

Absentmindedly, she pushed some of her red hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear. As she stared, his eyelids opened, revealing his emerald green eyes, which locked with hers.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Hey, “ she replied. “I’m going to take the plaster off now to check your leg out.”

“Okay.”

Hel cleared her throat a couple of times before she said, “I need you to take your sweatpants off.”

“Oh. Yeah. Makes sense.” Frost grabbed the waistband of his tracksuit pants and started to pull them down.

“What!” Hel slapped her hand over her eyes, wincing when her palm contacted with the already sore skin of her left eye. But she was too slow and glimpsed more of his boxer briefs than her racing heart could cope with.

“Sorry,” he apologised.

“That’s alright. Put the blanket over your lap and let me know when you’re decent.” Hel hoped he couldn’t hear the hitch in her voice and stood there waiting, desperately trying not to let her imagination run rampant about what the rustling meant or worse, take a sneaky peak through her fingers.

“Ready,” Frost finally said after what felt like an eternity.

Hel took her hand down from her eyes and was relieved to see the blanket now covered him to his knees—a small part of her brain said she wasn’t relieved, she was disappointed.

Shushing herself, she grabbed some gloves from the box on the wall, stepped forward and got to work.

It only took her a couple of minutes to cut the plaster off, and she ignored the whole time that she was touching his bare skin, well, she mostly ignored it.

When she pried open the plaster and removed the dressing from his wound, she sighed with relief. His wound was clean, with no redness or sign of infection. She carefully probed at it. He had no spot tenderness, and the bone underneath didn’t seem to be sore.

“That all looks good. I think we should do the MRI anyway. But I don’t think you need antibiotics. It’s likely you’ve got a viral infection, and it’s making everything hurt.” And she was still stroking her hand over the skin of his leg. She really should stop.

“Great,” Frost growled.

The rumble of his voice made her gaze spring to his. He was smiling at her, a small, knowing smirk on his face as if he knew what she was thinking. She snatched her hand away and dropped her eyes to his leg.

“I’ll go and grab the plaster trolley to redo your leg. I’ve got another four hours of my shift to go. Do you want to head home now? Or you can relax here if you want to, and I’ll drive us home.” Shit, she said us, as in they had a home together.

She had never called the shared house she lived in home, yet the house she shared with Frost felt like home. Or maybe it was him that felt like home. She flushed a little and turned away from him but couldn’t stop the smile when she heard his tired voice quickly answer.

“I’ll ride home with you.”