A Maid For The Heir

CH. TWO _ [Rowan]

I wouldn't mind sitting on that face, gray eyes.

Of all the places you could get a timeout, the hospital happened to be the least of them.

When you're the star wide receiver for the Denver Butchers, your social life would tend to be more social than bearable. Especially if you were the only teammate who carried around a pair on your chest.

I was the only female football player whose skills had made it into a male-dominated league. Hence, I had a couple fans too many.

Including the nurse sashaying out of my VIP room right at the moment. She'd snuck a little note with her digits behind it into my palm. She'd gone from examining my bandaged knee to caressing the bruises on my arms.

"Are you seriously checking her out right in my face?"

I had the maddening urge to roll my eyes, but I simply stared down at the blue-eyed woman helping me off the bed, her arm snaking around my waist. "Not a chance, I have everything I need to look at right here."

She rolled her eyes, a blush coloring her cheeks. "You disgust me. It's unfortunate the doc discharged you. A few weeks in this place would do you some good."

"You're probably right." I tightened the arm I had around her shoulders and pulled her into my side for a hug. "Thanks again for being here, you're a priceless friend, Delilah."

"Sure, no problem." Her voice went up an octave and I was forced to recall our situation-ship.

It had gone from strictly platonic to hot steamy sex to bad relationship and then backwards. We were at platonic now, still graduating to strictly platonic.

I tended to disregard her feelings most times, unintentionally.

A booming timber voice burst into the room. "If someone had told me months ago that nurses were hotter than my wife, I wouldn't have believed it. Unfortunately, I still don't."

Charlie-successful lawyer, wife fearing and at high risk of having a stroke-strode into the room with a chocolate bar shoved down his throat.

"Will you swallow your food first? You're gonna choke," I said, holding onto the crutches Delilah handed to me.

"Excuse me. I didn't realize you leveled up from best friend to life partner. When the wife isn't around I do whatever the hell I want," he said, stuffing his body with more carbs. It baffled me how he managed to stay in shape.

Delilah scoffed. "Good for you, Charles. You forgot to pick up Ro's medication, didn't you?"

He paused and slowly retreated out of the room. "Be right back. And I told you not to call me that!"

"Sure thing, Charles. Next time try not to get distracted by food and pretty nurses!"

I shook my head. "Did you guys forget we're in a hospital? Or maybe you just don't give a shit."

"You can't knock the bark out of the dog, Ro," she said matter-of-fact as we stepped out of the room.

"I don't know that phrase. I doubt it even exists." I tried my damnedest not to appear vulnerable as I limped on the crutches. The pitiful looks I got only made it worse.

My injuries were not bad at all. I came out of the accident with a few bruises and a dislocated kneecap that had hurt like hell. I could be back on the field in a few weeks.

But when the public sees an injured athlete, their first thought is to equal them to career death, damn all the medical details. The paparazzi flooding the entrance to the hospital yearned to relay exactly that. The end of Rowan Ravenhood.