What If I Knew You (Anaheim Stars Hockey #3)

12. Corrigan

CHAPTER TWELVE

CORRIGAN

“ C an you not see my child is in fucking pain? Do they even train you people in here or do they just pull in all the homeless bums off the street and ask you to pretend you’re nurses?”

You people.

Fuck you lady.

If she seriously says that one more time.

“Ma’am. I understand that Makenna isn’t feeling better yet, but she is maxed out on Tylenol and Motrin and I am not cleared to give her more. Taking too much, especially mixed with her antibiotics, can and will cause her way more harm than good, I assure you. All we can do now is make her comfortable and wait for these meds to do their jobs. I promise you she will start to feel much better in a matter of hours.”

“Hours? Hours?” The woman flails her arms in front of me. “My child shouldn’t have to fucking suffer because you’re too stupid to do your job. I want to talk to the nurse in charge. Get me her name!”

Fuck you twice.

“Her name is Corrigan Hicks, ma’am and she is me,” I tell her with a confident lift of my chin. “I am the one in charge so if you’d like to tell me again how stupid I am or how badly I do my job, I’d be more than happy to listen to what you have to say but I will not, under any circumstances, be giving your daughter meds that her little body cannot handle.”

With her finger in my face and her brows drawn together she seethes, “Then you can be prepared to hear from my lawyer because I will fucking sue you for murder since you refuse to give my kid the Tylenol she desperately needs.”

I can’t even remember the last time we lost a patient because of an ear infection.

Gun shot wounds, yeah.

Sepsis after a blown appendix? Sadly yes.

Car crash with no seatbelt? Way too many.

Cancer? Every single fucking day and it never gets easier.

Drowned in their own swimming pool? We see a lot of those too.

But dying from an ear infection?

Nope.

Can’t remember even one.

A quick glance at little Makenna lying in her bed, her eyes bulging at her mother’s words of anger, has me swallowing back the bile in my throat.

“I look forward to chatting with your lawyer, ma’am, because one thing I am very proud of in this hospital is how accurate our charting is. That means every tiny step we take with each of our patients is documented. Every I is dotted and every T is crossed so when the time comes, I’ll be happy to share Makenna’s charts with the appropriate people. Also,” I mention, gesturing to the ceiling where we’re standing, “you’ve been on camera for this entire conversation. Is there anything else you would like to say?”

Translation: Fuck you, you fucking fuck of a mother.

When she curls her lower lip over her teeth and bites down, for once choosing not to respond to me, I continue. “That’s what I thought. Perhaps if you spent the time and energy you have for spewing anger and hatred at me to, instead, comfort your little girl, she wouldn’t look so scared right now. She’ll be feeling much better in a couple of hours. If she were to close her eyes and simply take a nap, she’d feel better when she wakes up. I am going to walk away now as I have a few other patients who need me. The doctor will be here to see you momentarily.”

Quietly, and with as much calmness as I can muster, I turn and head the opposite direction from sweet little Makenna’s bitch of a mother. As soon as I turn the corner Layken is standing at the nurse’s station silently applauding me. I love that she’s worked her schedule out to be relatively on par with mine. She’s almost always standing here when my shift is about to end. She’s like my happy face at the end of a shit day.

“Woof! That woman was a piece of work.”

“Tell me about it,” I say with an exaggerated roll of my eyes. “What a way to end a shift, huh?”

Layken smiles at me. “Yeah but now, you can fix your face and slap your smile on because…” She waits for me to finish her sentence.

“It’s hot hockey hunk night!”

“That’s right!” She claps her hands excitedly. “Just two girls settling in to feast our eyes on a bunch of hot men as they battle it out on the ice for a few hours.”

“Do you even know the rules of the game?” I ask her, chuckling.

She shakes her head. “Hell no. Why do I need to worry about rules? Just bring on the hot men and a couple glasses of beer.”

She curls her arm to her hip and I lace my arm through hers. “Sounds like Heaven to me. Let’s get out of here.”

“Did you tell Bodhi…oops!” She covers her mouth and then grins. “I mean Alan that you were coming to the game.”

I shake my head. “How could I tell him when he doesn’t know that I know who he is?”

She shrugs. “Well, you could’ve just mentioned that you were going to a hockey game tonight with your best friend. Maybe he would’ve told you the truth then.”

“Doubt it. It’s too soon. At some point I’ll have to tell him because I can’t stay away from my dad every time I’m in the arena. I mean, we meet for lunch once a week. Bodhi is bound to see me around here at some point.”

I grab a tray of nachos and my beer, thanking the concession stand associate, and then follow Layken to our seats. I told my dad we were coming to tonight’s game and he offered to put us right behind the bench so I can really feel the action. I politely declined because I didn’t want to risk Bodhi spotting me in the crowd. Not knowing for sure how seeing me would affect his game, I asked Layken if she would mind if we sat farther back. We’re still close enough to get a good show and I made sure to dress like every other Stars fan. I chose a comfy pair of jeans and a team hoodie and even grabbed my Stars hat. Looking around at the fans seated within close proximity to us, I think I blend in pretty darn well.

“Oooh here they come!” Layken points to the team as they move onto the ice for their warmup and I can’t help but sit up straighter and watch anxiously for him to appear.

“Where’s number thirty-seven? Do you see thirty-seven?”

Layken glances at me and laughs. “Girl, you already know his number?”

“What?” I shrug innocently. “I Googled him as soon as I had the chance. Of course, I know his number.”

“You’re not smitten at all.” She turns back to watch the players for a minute and then gestures with the tip of her chin. “There he is. On the left.”

My eyes rake through each player as they circle around the net and then split into sides, some shooting a puck and others rebounding. And that’s when I spot him.

Not that he looks any different from any of the other guys on the ice when they’re all in uniform but to me he’s very different from anyone else out there. His strong arms carried me down my hallway to my bedroom. His sculpted chest and broad shoulders have pressed against my bare chest. He explored my body with those large soft hands.

I can still feel his touch when I think about it.

I can still see the sense of wonder and pure lust in his eyes.

“What position does he play?” Layken asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Uh, he’s a sub for the left. I think sometimes he’s a left wing and sometimes he’s left defense.”

“Wow, he plays two positions?”

“It’s not uncommon, really. Players move around a good bit even during game play. I’ll have to ask my dad the next time we have lunch what his plans are for Bodhi since he’s not necessarily a starting player.”

“Do you think one of the guys is considering retirement or something and that’s why they brought him on board?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s not out of the realm of possibility. I wasn’t following the team much while I was in London. You would probably know more than me at this point.”

Layken shakes her head. “Nah. I’m a fan but I’m not the super-know-every-detail kind of fan. All I know is that the guys have always been great to work with whenever we’ve had charity events for the hospital. And thanks to your dad, they almost always come around to visit the kids. Especially around the holidays.”

“Dad loves being Santa for those kids. I imagine he’ll do it until he physically can’t anymore.”

“Hmm.” Layken smirks bringing a finger to her chin. “Maybe I could write the next great holiday romance where Santa shows up to see the children in the small-town hospital and ends up falling for one of the single moms who sits with her son day in and day out. She spends so much time taking care of her ailing son but nobody is there to take care of her…until Santa shows up and then BAM. Christmas miracles everywhere and happily ever afters for everyone.”

“Wow. How do you do that?” I ask her, amazed.

“Do what?”

“Just come up with storyline ideas like that on the fly?”

She smiles. “You mean like the story about the girl who accidentally texts the virgin pro hockey player and he writes her back and then somehow she’s offering him lessons on how to be great in bed so he’s ready when he meets the love of his life except he think he’s already met the love of his life and it’s her?”

Nearly spitting out my drink, I cover my mouth with my hand and roll my eyes. “Oh please. That’s pretty far-fetched, don’t you think?”

Without response, she merely shrugs with a mischievous grin and then gives her attention to the pregame ceremony. After the national anthems are sung and the teams get into their starting positions, she leans over to me as I’m watching the players and murmurs, “Far-fetched maybe, but not out of the realm of possibility. Just saying.”

I shake my head silently, not wanting to give her any more fodder for her wildly creative mind. Though now that she’s planted that seed in my brain, would a hot hockey player falling in love with his coach’s daughter be so bad?

Not for me.

Pretty sure Dad would not say the same.

For the first couple minutes of the game Bodhi is on the bench but the minute Ledger Dayne comes off his first shift, Bodhi hits the ice and sprints to his position to get into the action. Magallen has possession of the puck and forces it to August Blackstone in the corner. August is checked by one of the Pittsburgh players and the puck is taken over by them.

“Dammit! Come on Stars!” I shout along with Layken and the other fans surrounding us. We watch as Pittsburgh moves the puck down the ice to our goalie, Barrett Cunningham, but that man is on point tonight. He stops the puck from entering his net three times before the Stars take a solid possession again. Griffin being the closest to Barrett, he swings the puck back around the net to the corner and shoots it at Bodhi.

YES! Let’s GO Bodhi!

I want to scream and shout for him simply because I feel some small connection to a player on the ice, but I stop myself out of fear that he might actually hear me screaming for him. I know that sounds ridiculous but what if they can actually hear certain fans? What if he were to look up at just the right time and see me? Something tells me that would be the end of our playdates and after the orgasm he gave me a few nights ago, not getting to experience that again would make me very sad.

There. I said it.

I liked falling apart to Bodhi Roche’s touch.

And I’m antsy to do it again.

Knowing Bodhi’s reputation for being the killer player on his last team, I expect him to take the puck all the way down the ice and score the team’s first goal.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he passes to August who is presently in a position to make the better shot and then advances toward the net to assist him if needed. August fights against a few strong Pittsburgh defensemen and takes the shot but misses as the puck banks off the net. It slides towards Bodhi just in time for him to hook it with his stick, reposition, and shoot for the net and this time it slides right in!

The crowd jumps to their feet. Layken and I do the same. I raise my arms above my head and scream for our home team, so incredibly happy for Bodhi. His shift comes to an end as he races back to the bench where he’s met with a high-fives from his teammates. I smile when my dad gives him a proud slap on the back.

“Aww look. Daddy likes your boyfriend,” Layken teases.

“Oh my God! He is not my boyfriend.”

“Okay…playmate. Does that sound better?” She wags her brows. “I mean don’t tell me you haven’t been sitting here wishing his face was between your legs right now. Look at that man.” She gestures to the where Bodhi is seated on the bench, his helmet off and a Gatorade bottle being lifted to his mouth. Sweat pours down his face but his smile when he looks at the player next to him, and the fire in his eyes…phew. Layken is right. That man is sexy as hell.

“I wasn’t necessarily thinking it until now.”

“Well, you better tell him it’s time for his next lesson as soon as he’s available. And that it’s going to be of the oral variety.”