Heartstrings (5 page)

“How do you know all this?” I ask.

“I read a lot of magazines,” Penny shrugs.

“What do you mean about his family?” I ask. I’m actually
getting wrapped up in this yarn Penny’s spinning.

Penny looks sadly toward Slade. “His dad died when he was
ten,” she says softly, “He worked on a construction site. There was an
accident. His mom was totally destroyed and never really recovered emotionally.
She bounced around from job to job a lot. The worst part is that Slade has two
little sisters, so money was super short. He started working from the time we
was twelve to help out, and apparently all but raised his sisters himself. He
had an entire family relying on him ever since he was a kid. It’s pretty
remarkable. Even now, he gives most of the money he makes back to his mom. So,
I’d cut the guy some slack, if I were you.”

“How does someone who’s done such wonderful things become
such a pompous jerk?” I wonder aloud.

“I wouldn’t say pompous,” Slade slurs sleepily. Penny and I gasp,
meeting each other’s gaze as Slade resurfaces from his slumber.

“Have you been awake this whole time?” I ask, turning back
toward him. He stretches a little, the tanned skin of his neck going taut. I
have the sudden, mad desire to run my hands over his chest, hoist myself onto
the bed on top of him. This is getting nuts, it's been way too long.

“I just caught that last bit,” he says, looking up at Penny
and I. His eyes light up when he sees that we’re both in the room together.
“Goody,” he smiles, “You’re back.”

“How are you feeling?” Penny asks brightly.

“Better now that you’re here,” he says, “Nurse Ratched over
here has been busting my balls ever since I got here.”

“That is an exaggeration,” I say pointedly.

“She’s been beating me while the doctors’ backs are turned,”
Slade says, pouting dramatically, “She pummels me with a bed pan and makes me
call her ‘El Capitan’.”

“Could you do me a favor and be a little less funny when my
bosses come in to check on you?” I say, speaking over Penny’s giggling. “I take
my job seriously.”

“Well then,” Slade says, “This is just a little constructive
criticism, but you could definitely stand to work on your bedside manner. You
haven’t offered to sit on my lap once since I got in here.”

“Nor will I,” I say firmly.

“I bet Red here would,” Slade beams at Penny.

“Mr. Hale,” Penny says, laying a hand on her chest like a
good old southern belle, “I’m flattered. Really I am. But I’m afraid it’s Julia
who’s been assigned to you.”

“Maybe you could at least show her how it’s done before you
leave?” Slade presses, “I promise I don’t bite. Not unless that’s what you’re
into, of course.”

“Of course,” I mutter.

“Maybe some other time,” Penny smiles, turning to go. “You
two play nice, now. You’re stuck with each other, you know.”

She closes the door behind her, leaving Slade and I alone
together once again. He heaves a big sigh and leans back in his bed, shooting
his gaze toward me.

“Give it to me straight,” he says, “How much longer is this
healing process going to take?”

“Like I told you,” I say, “A week or so, tops.”

Slade lets out a groan and closes his eyes. “I don’t want to
think about that anymore. I am issuing a ban on that subject.”

“Yes sir,” I scoff.

“Since we’ve been forced into each other’s company,” Slade
says, “It’s up to you to help me pass the time.”

“It’s up to me to make sure that you’re medicated and, you
know, not dead,” I correct him.

“I require entertainment!” he says dramatically, “You there!
Entertain me.”

“I’m not your court jester,” I say, “And besides, aren’t you
supposed to be the entertainer here?”

“I can’t exactly serenade you from my hospital bed,” Slade
says. “It’s all up to you, kiddo.”

“I don’t think so, sport,” I shoot back. I sit down on the
chair next to his bed and cross my arms and legs.

“Come on,” Slade moans. He lays a hand on my knee,
imploringly. I stare down at the sudden contact, bewildered. My body
temperature must be skyrocketing. I look up into Slade’s face and see that his
expression has shifted. He’s not sneering, for once. Just meeting my gaze
steadily, honestly. I feel like I’m going to pitch forward and get sucked into
those dark eyes forever. Talk about occupational hazards.

“How, exactly, would you like to pass the time?” I ask,
alarmed at how raspy my voice has become. All of a sudden, I’m playing the
smoldering seductress? That won’t do. I clear my throat anxiously, wishing that
Slade would take his hand off me. His touch is distracting.

“Tell me about yourself,” he says, clasping his hands across
his stomach as if he had heard my unspoken wish.

“That’s not a very interesting subject,” I say dryly. “Not
with the life you lead, I’m sure.”

“Hey now!” he says, “Don’t put yourself down. I’m sure that
your life is very interesting. Tell me all about it. Regale me with tales of your
youth.”

“My youth is kind of still occurring,” I remind him.

“Very true, little one,” he ribs.

I ignore the bait. “Well,” I begin, “I live around here,
obviously. Not far, anyway.”

“Not too far from my old stomping grounds,” he says, “I’m
from Jersey.”

“I know,” I say, “Penny filled me in on your history. You
know, this is dangerous place for you to be, as a Jersey native. Pennsylvanians
have very strong opinions about people from New Jersey.”

“And vice versa,” Slade says. “Don’t tell me you’re a Philly
girl?”

“I’m an outside of Philly girl,” I say, “Born and bred.”

“Gross,” he says.

“You should talk!” I exclaim, “I bet you even call New York
‘The City’.”

“Of course I do,” Slade says, “I’m not like you Pennsylvania
people who say that Philly is actually ‘The City’. That’s straight up
blasphemy.”

“New York’s got nothing on Philly,” I say heatedly, “Philly
is cleaner, cooler, friendlier—”

“And lamer, and smaller, and less connected,” Slade says.
“New York is the biggest, most outrageous, most exciting place in the entire
world.”

“We have cheese steaks!” I say.

“We have bagels!” Slade shoots back.

“I’m not having this argument with you,” I say, folding my
arms. “God, I can’t believe I’m sitting here arguing the merits of
New
Jersey
.”

“Don’t be a snob,” he says, “South Jersey and Central
Pennsylvania are on pretty even footing.”

“I suppose we can agree on that, anyway,” I admit.

“So, other than the fact that you’re delusional enough to
think that Philly is better than New York, and overlooking the fact that you’re
probably a goddamn Flyers fan, what else is there to know about you?” Slade
asks.

“First of all, I like the Penguins,” I say, “Don’t be a
heathen. What else is there...Well, I’m an only child. There’s that. It was a
little lonely, but the haul at Christmas was worth it, I suppose.”

“What do you do when you’re not being a nurse?” Slade asks.

“What do you mean?” I reply, “I’m always a nurse.”

“In your free time, then,” he says, “What do you like to
do?”

“Sleep,” I say immediately.

“And eat and breathe, I’m sure,” Slade says, “But what do
you do for fun?”

I stare at him blankly. The concept of fun has become a
little fuzzy for me over the past couple of years. I rack my brain, trying to
remember what interests me...It’s alarmingly difficult. “Well,” I say, “I like
to hang out with my cat, Gustav. I know how that sounds, but I’m really not a
cat lady. I only have the one. And I like fixing my house up. Do it yourself
projects, that kind of thing. I’m going to make an up-cycled laundry hamper
this weekend.”

“Living in the edge,” Slade says.

“Don’t make fun,” I say.

“A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be stuck at home
knitting things out of cat hair, in my opinion,” Slade says.

“I don’t—I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, flustered. He used the
“b” word. No one ever said that to me before. I’d been called cute and adorable
all my life, but it was the rare occasion that someone called me beautiful.

“Got a boyfriend?” Slade asks.

“Yeah,” I lie. I don’t want him getting any ideas.

“What’s his name?” he asks.

“Bernard,” I mumble, standing up from my chair. “Do you need
anything? You must be hungry by now.”

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” he says, letting his eyes
wander up and down my body. “Are you sure you don’t have special sexy uniforms
that you only bust out for company parties? I can see a hell of a figure hidden
under that jump suit.”

“I’m sure,” I say.

“Damn,” he sighs. “Fine, then. I guess I’d like something to
eat.”

“I’ll be right back,” I say.

I hurry out of the room, and am surprised to find that I’ve
gone all shaky. My every nerve is poised for something—the only problem is, I
have no idea what that something is. This guy is getting to me, that’s for
sure. I take a deep breath as I lean against the wall, steadying myself. I just
have to make it through a few more days of this, and then I’ll be cruising
across the country all by myself. I’ve never needed a vacation more in my
entire life, and Slade’s not helping matters. I can take him, though. He may be
the rock star, but as a nurse, I’m still the one calling the shots.

Chapter Four

* * * * *

 “This is an outrage,” Slade rages, his fists balled up
on the crisp white sheets of his hospital bed. I take a deep breath and level
my gaze at the rock star. It’s been forty eight hours, and the sheer intensity
of his good looks has yet to diminish. It would be difficult to be stern with
him, if it weren’t for the ridiculous things that fall out of his mouth every
time he opens it.

“It’s absolutely against the rules,” I tell him, “There’s
nothing I can do about it.”

“But it’s totally unfair!” he insisted, his full, firm lips
pulled into a sexy pout. “This is a hospital, isn’t it? A place of rest and relaxation?
Why are you running it like Gitmo?”

“Slade,” I say, “You can’t. Have whiskey. In your room.”

“But why not?” he moans, falling back hard against his
pillows.

“You’re injured,” I remind him.

“Exactly,” he says, “I could use a little relief.”

“That’s what the morphine is for,” I remind him.

“It’s lost its edge,” he sniffs, turning his gorgeous face
away from me.

“You’re not used to being told ‘no’, are you Slade?” I ask,
sitting down in the chair beside his bed. He swings his eyes back toward me.

“I’m not,” he says suggestively, “Especially not by lovely
young women like yourself.”

“You’ve never met anyone like me,” I smile.

“That...is a good point,” he admits.

We’ve been going back and forth like this for two days, now.
My shifts at the hospital have been devoted solely to the care and keeping of
our rock star patient. My supervisor, Dr. Kelly, has forbidden me to see any
other patients, insisting that Slade’s routine recovery requires constant
vigilance. It’s completely ridiculous, and I tried to rally against the
situation at first. But I have to admit, I’ve started to enjoy the banter. It’s
nice to talk to someone sharp for once, given that most of the people I deal
with at work are either in critical condition, crazy, on drugs, or don’t have
time for small talk.

“I thought I’d get off easy, watching you during the night
shift,” I tell him, “I figured you’d be asleep most of the time, you know, like
a normal human being.”

“You realize that I’m a professional musician, right?” he
drawls, “I live between five in the afternoon and six in the morning.”

“Funny,” I say, “Me too.”

“We’re just meant to be, I guess,” he sighs, fluttering his
eyelashes goofily.

I let a little giggle escape my lips. It’s impossible to
stay annoyed with Slade for very long. It’s also impossible to get any sort of
handle on what he’s thinking. In the short time I’ve known him, I feel like
I’ve seen eighteen different aspects of his personality. I wish I could tell
which version was the authentic one—then I could try and figure out how I feel
about this patient of mine. For the time being, though, it’s just fun keeping
up with his verbal acrobatics, crude though they may sometimes be.

“My shift is almost over for the night,” I say, “Do you need
anything before I go?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Besides a glass of whiskey,” I tell him.

“I need you to stay,” he says.

“Stay?” I ask, “As in, for another shift?”

“Yeah,” he says, “The day nurse is no good.”

“Rachel?” I ask, “What’s wrong with Rachel?”

“She’s not as nice to look at as you are,” he smiles.

I hope I’m not blushing as I respond, “Rachel has been
working here for ten years. She knows everything there is to know about
everything.”

“But she seems immune to my charms,” he says.