Page 21 of Love Me (Charlotte Monarchs Hockey #1)

Bree

I ’ve never been to one of my patients’ funerals before.

There’s always a bond between a nurse and the people in their charge, but going to funerals isn’t my way.

While I do mourn the loss, I try to put all my focus on my current patients, the ones I can still help, because if I dwell, I’ll lose focus and won’t be able to claw my way out of the abyss of depression.

And a nurse who’s lost her focus isn’t an effective nurse.

Death keeps my job in perspective. It keeps my entire life in perspective.

But I didn’t come to Jack’s funeral for myself. I came for Luke.

I haven’t seen or heard from him since he left the hospital after finding out Ally was taking Jack home to pass away in his own bed. I called and texted a few times, but he never responded, and I knew enough to give him space.

That was two weeks ago.

And while attending a patient’s memorial service is not something I normally do, I came anyway because I need to see Luke. I need to make sure he’s okay. I need to make sure he knows I care.

When I step inside the funeral home, the reasons I don’t attend funerals slap me in the face. The first being the small casket at the front of the room. The sight brings tears to my eyes, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying.

Among the various people standing next to the casket is Ally.

She’s wearing a shift dress in a beautiful Carolina blue, the trademark color of Jack’s favorite college team, the University of North Carolina Tar Heels.

Her eyes are red and puffy, but she seems more at peace than I’ve seen her in the weeks I’ve known her and Jack.

Losing a patient is difficult enough. I can’t even fathom losing a child.

As I scan the room looking for Luke, I see Pavel and Aleksandr sitting a few rows from the front. Behind them are a few more Monarchs players who volunteer at the hospital.

Why are there so many hockey players at Jack’s funeral?

There’s no time to dwell on that right now. Not when Luke is nowhere to be found. I can’t believe he wouldn’t be at Jack’s service.

Instead of sitting down, I slide out the door unnoticed. It seems odd that he hasn’t arrived yet, but then again, I don’t know anything about his schedule.

Once I’m in the parking lot, I glance at my phone to check the time, then look around. I’m about to send him a text when I notice a figure slumped over the steering wheel of a mud-streaked, forest-green Jeep about fifty yards away. Adrenaline and instinct send me rushing to the door.

When I reach the vehicle, I clutch the strap of my purse at my shoulder and peer inside. A man sits forward, head resting on his arms, which are crossed over the steering wheel. I’m fairly sure it’s Luke, but his hair is hidden under a gray knit beanie, so I’m not completely positive.

“Luke?” I ask, tapping the window with the pad of my finger.

He doesn’t respond, so I knock harder. This time, he lifts his head slowly.

The striking profile confirms my guess. He turns to face me, staring with glassy eyes.

The bright pink tone of the rim above his lower lashes and the swollen skin under his eyes reveal that he’s been crying.

My chest tightens. Stubble lines his cheeks and jaw, making him appear older than I thought he was.

It’s a bit of a surprise because, when he’s clean-shaven, he looks like he may not even be able to grow facial hair.

Warm air blasts my face when he rolls down the window. “What are you doing out here?” I ask gently.

Another quick glance at my phone tells me Jack’s service started a few minutes ago. We should be in there already.

“I can’t go in.” He tilts his head toward the funeral home. “I can’t do it.”

“You can.” I start to reach out, knowing how comforting a simple human touch can be when someone is grieving but stop myself because it seems too intimate. “It’s going to be hard, but you need to do it. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

He grabs the steering wheel and squeezes it until his knuckles turn white. “It’s not fair, Bree. He should be here. He was an amazing kid. Smart. Selfless. Kind. Funny. Sweet.”

“You’re right. He was all of those things. And you have to go in there and tell Ally that. She needs you right now, Luke. You’ve given her so much comfort and strength throughout Jack’s illness. She’s counting on you.”

When he doesn’t respond or move, I continue, “You’re strong enough to handle this, Luke. Jack’s family needs you to share that strength with them.” Letting go of my reservations, I place my hand on his shoulder.

I thought the comforting touch might be the catalyst for him to get out of his Jeep after my encouraging words, but Luke turns his head and gazes at my hand.

His eyes are empty and tired, which makes my heart sink.

Maybe I took it too far. Luke and I have had multiple sexual interactions, but that doesn’t give me the right to touch him while he’s at his most vulnerable.

My heart races, anxious because I’m not on my home turf. This isn’t the hospital where it’s my job to keep people calm and help them understand loss and grief.

Caring too much has gotten me into trouble before, yet I keep falling into the trap because that’s who I am. It’s hard for me to see people hurting, so I try to fix it.

But I may have gone too far this time. I don’t even know Luke. I don’t know his relationship with Jack or Ally. Maybe it isn’t my place to be here. Maybe he wants to be alone. Maybe he thinks I should mind my own business. My heart beats so fast, I think it might bounce out of my chest.

Luke squeezes his eyes shut. His chest rises and falls with each breath, but it’s much slower and calmer than it had been just a few minutes ago. When he reopens his eyes, he nods and drums the steering wheel with his palms. “You’re right.”

Oh, thank god, I think as I release a breath. “Come on.” I move away from the door to give him room to exit.

He slides out and stands up straight. He wipes his eyes, then removes his hat and tosses it onto the passenger seat.

I can’t help the sharp breath that escapes as he stands before me in a dark suit, crisp, white shirt, and light-blue tie. Luke is one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen in my life, but seeing him raw and exposed, yet so put together on the outside, makes him a million times more attractive.

Luke glances at me with surprise when I hook my arm through his, but I don’t say anything. I just keep hold of him and steer him toward the door.

Multiple heads turn our way when we enter. We’ve interrupted the service, but Ally’s smile tells me everything I assumed was correct. She’s elated to see Luke. She needed him here.

Next thing I know, Luke is the one leading me.

He walks confidently toward the front, excusing us quietly as we edge into a row of seats.

Once seated, he glances at the casket at the front of the room.

I reach over and take his hand, squeezing it to show that I’m here for him. He’s got a friend, a comfort.

Luke looks at our joined hands, then lifts them to his mouth and places a soft kiss on the back of mine.

Relief washes over me. We may not know each other very well outside of the bedroom, but I’m well-versed in grief and working with people who are grieving. His sweet gesture is the sign I needed to confirm I’ve done the right thing by coaxing him in.

It also makes my heart speed up and swirl for a totally different reason.

A warm feeling starts in my cheeks before melting into the rest of my body.

There’s no reason to read anything more into it than an expression of thanks, but I do.

I see him in a different way now. Luke may be threading his way into my heart, which complicates our no-strings-attached agreement.

When the service is over, I wait at the back of the funeral home, near the doors, while Luke speaks with Ally and her sister.

After a few minutes, both women hug him tight.

He says a few more words before turning around and joining me.

His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a smile, but we don’t speak as we exit.

Our arms brush as we walk through the open double doors side by side.

Once outside, Luke loosens his tie and gulps in the air as if he’s been holding his breath for the last thirty minutes.

I lace my fingers with his and guide him toward his vehicle.

It’s the only way I can help. I don’t have any words of comfort that will do any good.

Jack will be transported to Ally’s hometown to be buried, so there’s no processional to a cemetery.

Leaving the funeral home means it’s the end.

I hate the final goodbye.

Luke shoots me a side glance as if he doesn’t know how to respond to my chivalry. “Do you always go to your patients’ funerals?”

I shake my head. “I just thought you might need a friend by your side today.” Which seems silly to me now because he had multiple friends there. I was the outsider.

At first, Luke’s brow furrows as he looks at me cautiously. Then he relaxes and his expression transforms into a smile of gratitude. “You came here for me?”

I nod, suddenly overcome by embarrassment. Maybe it seems creepy to him that I showed up here when we’ve never really had any intense conversations.

My fears are quelled when he tugs me into his arms and holds me tight against his chest. “Thank you,” he whispers.

There’s no better feeling than a hug of genuine gratitude. I sink into his embrace, letting the warmth pulse through me.

When Luke finally releases me, I ask, “Are you okay to drive?”

He wipes at his eyes with one hand as he digs his keys out of his front pocket with the other. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Luke sniffs, and I open my purse and reach inside. I shoved a packet of tissues in there before I left my apartment this morning. His lips turn up in a small smile when he accepts the package.

“Pink leopard print,” he says softly.

I’m confused until I realize he’s talking about the plastic wrap around the tissues. “What can I say? I have a wild side,” I joke.

“Yeah. I know.” He reaches out and grazes my cheek.

His touch makes my heart feel a bit lighter. “Take care, Luke,” I say, patting his bicep and spinning around. He probably wants to get back inside and spend more time with Jack’s family.

“Bree!” he calls out before I’ve taken three steps.

I turn around, reaching up to brush away the strands of my wavy, brown hair whipping around my face in the wind. When I try to tuck it behind my ear, it falls right out, so I hold it back with my hand. “Yes?”

“I want to take you out on a real date.” He pauses for a moment, fiddling with his keys. “Not today, but soon. Would that be okay?”

I pause, trying to decide if I should try to dodge the invisible lasso threatening to rope me in. Accepting his invitation for a real date means I’m agreeing to take our fun fling to the next level.

His smile falls away as he waits for my answer. “Or not. No big deal.”

The excitement bubbling in my stomach contradicts the logic that tells me getting involved is a stupid idea.

“No, it’s—yeah, Luke.” I nod. “That would definitely be okay.”

I’m flattered Luke wants to take our relationship from hooking up to dating even if I’m not sure if that’s really what I want.

I’m not going to be in town long enough to allow myself to put in much effort or emotion.

Then again, Luke’s a hot hockey player who fucks like it’s his second job, so what do I really have to lose?