Page 73 of Twisted Collide (Saints Of Redville #2)

73

JOSIE

It’s funny how much you can miss someone despite seeing them only yesterday, but as I sit in my bed for another day of my recovery, I can’t stop thinking about Dane.

Today, he’s away for a game.

By the time he gets home later tonight, it will be too late for him to stop by, and I’d be lying if that thought doesn’t make me sad.

This should be over soon, though. My ankle is feeling much better and my headaches are gone.

By next week, I should be approved to go back to work, hopefully.

Whether the team lets me come back is another story, but I’ll think positively.

I flip on the TV and turn on the game. Obviously ready for the Saints to kick some ass. I watch as Dane effortlessly skates toward the puck, pulling back his stick to take a shot. He moves so fast it’s hard to see. I watch with bated breath as the puck travels down the ice. The camera zooms in, and something catches my eye. There’s something on his helmet. My brows furrow as I squint, trying to make out what it is. An actual snort leaves my mouth as I fall into a fit of giggles. A sticker. He has a sticker on his helmet. And what it says leaves me breathless.

I 3 Hellfire.

My door opening has me pulling my gaze away from the TV.

“Josie, it’s me. Can I come in? I come bearing presents.”

Presents? What kind of present does Sherry have? Maybe it’s a milkshake. I could really go for one of those right now.

Dane did send me donuts, so anything is possible.

“Yes,” I holler back.

A strange dragging noise has me shaking my head. What the heck is Sherry up to? But when I see what she’s holding, I’m well aware she has nothing to do with this because this present can only be from one person.

Dane . . . because who else would send me a six-foot trident?

“Do you have any idea who would have sent this?” She places it against the wall.

“I have a pretty good idea.” A laugh escapes me. The man is ridiculous.

“Care to fill me in?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” And I can’t really tell you without having to explain why he’s sending me this.

“Say no more. Have fun with your . . . is it a trident?”

“It is.”

This time, it’s Sherry’s turn to laugh. “Have fun with your trident.”

“Thanks,” I respond as she walks out the door.

The man is ridiculous, and I love it.