Moore To Love (12 page)

Yeah, okay.
Now it’s my turn to laugh my ass off. The snort that escapes me puts Miss Piggy to shame and gives Lane something to gawk at. “
Me?
Intimidating? And what, pray tell, is so intimidating about someone like
me
?”

His expression turns serious; it’s the first time I’ve seen him frown. “Someone
like
you
?”

“Yes,” I admit. “I’m not exactly in the same stellar shape as Karen or Jenny and I’ve been described as many things, but intimidating is definitely not one of them.”

“Well, then call it a first.” I expect him to stop there, but he zones out for a split second and then turns back to face me. “Before today, you didn’t really know anything about me other than that we run on the same track. I’m not sure what impression I gave, but contrary to popular judgment, I’m a quiet guy who keeps to himself a lot. I also don’t know much about you, but from what I’ve seen—you’re a beautiful woman with genuine determination, albeit it
clumsy
determination, and a really pretty singing voice. My brothers get on my case all the time for being so shy around the ladies, but yeah, everything I’ve just described about you is
very
intimidating to me.”

Gulp!
Stop the presses
.
I need to play the lottery because today, my friends, is Madeline Moore’s lucky fucking day. “Wow, Lane. Please forgive me while I pick my chin up off the floor, but, dude, you just made my year.”

He does that throaty chuckle again and his eyes sparkle with amusement. “Glad to be of service. And speaking of . . .” He reaches in his pocket and takes out his phone, checking the screen. “My shift starts soon. I should get washed up and start my rounds.”

I can’t help the surge of disappointment that washes over me. I attempt my best sexy-pout and it earns me a playful poke on my leg.

He rises from the bed and straightens out a few wrinkles in his scrubs. “Tell ya what. I’ll come check on you during my break. That is, of course, if you want company?”

Eager Beaver wants to come out and play, but I know better. Rather than acting like some overzealous geek, I smile, a genuine one that reaches all the way up to my eyes. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Great. Get some rest and I’ll see you later, then.” He turns to walk out of the room but looks over his shoulder when I call out his name.

“Lane?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for everything. The next time I bump into a tree—because, knowing my track record, it
will
happen again—I hope you’re there to save the day.”

Lane grins widely, his dimples showing again. “You got it, babe.”

He exits and sets off to the land of blue-haired biddies and wrinkly old men. I’m left swooning and squirming, oozing with excitement over the last amazing hour of my life.

“You smack into a tree and the universe applauds you! Way to go, Leni cakes!”

As soon as Lane was out of earshot, I grabbed my phone to call Tatum. Within fifteen minutes of telling her about my tree mishap, the hospital, and Lane, she’s at my side, feigning good bedside manner.

“Tay, can you refill my water glass? The pain meds are making me parched.”

She scowls as she slops water from the tiny plastic hospital carafe, dripping some over my barely covered legs. “Less drinking, more talking. I want to hear everything. Every. Last. Detail.”

I scarf down the water, practically choking it down because of the way my best friend is eyeing me. When I’m done, she grabs the cup from my hand, slams it down on the swivel table and then rolls it out of the way. “
Un
parched?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Speak.”

For fear of losing a limb, I blabber on about everything that unfolded over the last few hours. I can’t help but smile each time my lips speak his name. Like anything else in my life, however, I vow not to get my hopes up about any of it. Besides, I’ve been avoiding anything with Hudson all this time for the greater good.
Me.
I need to do me before I can do anyone else.

“And that’s it in a nutshell,” I finish with a drawn-out sigh.

Tatum’s eyes flicker with enjoyment; her lips curl with glee. “Well, that’s quite a large nutshell. He totally digs you, you know that right?”

“I know nothing of the sort.”

She
tsks
away my negativity and gets serious. “You said he’s coming back to visit with you when he’s on his break?”

“Yup.”

“He stayed with you until you were conscious?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“He didn’t lose his lunch when you lost yours all over his shoes?”

“Nope.”

“And he called you beautiful and intimidating?”

“Uh huh.”

Tatum leans over the length of my body and grabs my shoulders, shaking me. “Leni! Wake the fuck up! All this time you’ve been avoiding Mr. Fancy Pants and he’s been pining over you! You, my friend, are on a roll, and I think it’s time you accept it!”

Pushing her off me, I wince at the wave of dizziness her shaking caused. “Wanna watch it? Head injury here,” I bark.

“Oops! Sorry. But really, Len. Think about it.”

She has a point. I have to hand it to her. Ever since Hudson, I’ve been riding this wave of male attention that’s nothing short of fantastic. That being said, I could
never
allow something so trivial to get to my head. I’m not that person. Never was. And no amount of weight loss will
ever
make me be.

“I don’t know,” I muse.

“What’s not to know? You’ve wanted this for as long as I’ve known you—the attention of a hot guy who actually seems to like you for yourself. Why can’t you embrace it and see where it goes?”

It seems easy enough. In fact, I’m half convinced it’s time to pull up my Hanes Her Way and be a big girl, but reluctance rules my roost. Uncertainty undulates my utopia. I’m a chicken unwilling to crash land from the coop.

“We’ll see,” I finally concede, sinking my head into the not-so-plush hospital pillow. “Who do you have to blow for a decent pillow around here? Can you text my mom to bring me a better one? I’ll never get through the night with this.”

With a disappointed frown, Tatum rises from her seat on the bed and comes over to fluff the lifeless pillow. “I have a feeling that’s not the only reason you won’t be able to sleep comfortably tonight,” she murmurs.

“What was that?” I should ignore her stubborn persistence, but I’m not one to allow someone else the last word.

Dancing around the room like a fool, Tatum clutches her heart dramatically. “Oh, Lane! I love your fancy pants. Can I take them off for you?” She smacks her lips and makes kissy noises as she moans and groans his name.

I snatch the useless pillow from behind my head and fling it at her. “Would you stop? You’re so freaking immature! Enough already!”

Tatum deflects the pillow and continues tormenting me. “Lane, my hero. You saved me from that big bad tree Now, show me your big bad co—”

“Knock, knock.” Tatum freezes and me? I’m on fire. I imagine I turn a shade of red that’s not even on the color wheel. “I can come back if I’m interrupting something . . .”

Okay. I just died. I need to be dead, buried, gone.
“Um . . . come on in,
Lane
.” I accentuate his name and give Tatum a death stare that makes the beautiful palette of colors drain from her perfectly made up face. “My friend here was just leaving.” I have no idea what Lane’s heard, if anything, but the best way to avert the crisis is to avoid it.

“I was not,” Tatum has the balls to say, her mouth agape.

“You were, too. Remember? You have to get to the pharmacy before it closes so you can get your wart cream.”

Tatum turns to face me so only I can see and mouths the word “bitch” while narrowing her eyes. She quickly recovers after taking a deep, take-one-for-the-team breath. “Oh yeah.” She glances at her wrist—she’s not wearing a watch—and straightens out her shirt. “Would ya look at the time. I should head out.” I’m awarded a tiny kiss on my forehead, accompanied by a subtle growl, and then she starts for the door where she meets up with Lane. “I’m Tatum, by the way,” she says, with an up-to-no-good swagger.

“Lane,” he reciprocates, taking her hand and shaking it. I don’t miss his eyes darting down to where their hands meet. He quickly pulls away from her grip with a nonchalant brush of his palm on the leg of his pants.

I laugh to myself, content with my revenge. Serves her right, after all.

With one more glance my way, she sets out to leave. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Lane, and thank you for taking care of my klutzy friend. She owes you a date. Ta ta, for now.” Wench had to get that last jab in, didn’t she?

She waltzes out the door and on her merry way and the evil witch leaves me alone to explain myself to a very perplexed Lane.

TURNS OUT I HAVE A
pretty thick skull—as I’ve always been told. Even so, I hit it pretty hard and in just the right spot, causing a mild concussion. The doctor discharged me with orders to stay off my feet—no work, no exercising—for a week. I’m not gonna lie; I definitely don’t mind the idea of a break from everything, but this’ll be the first time since I started with Jane and Mandy that I’ll be inactive and I’ll have to rely on eating really strictly to make up for the calories I won’t be burning. And after Mom’s trip to the grocery store for comfort food, that’s gonna be a problem.

“Ma, really? Are you trying to sabotage me?” I hear the bag of chips crinkling as she removes it from the shopping bag. There’s no mistaking the glorious sound of salt and vinegar Lays.

“What? They’re reduced fat.” Mom shrugs and stores them in my cupboard, inside the empty hole that was once a well stocked mother lode of goodies.

“They need to be gone. Out. Take them home with you. I can’t deal with the temptation. I
won’t
deal with the temptation. Hence the banishment of the chips.”

“Geez, Leni. I just wanted to make sure you had all your favorite snacks. Crucify me, why don’t ya!” Her pout could put a five-year-old’s to shame.

All snacking aside, insulting her wasn’t my plan. She’s only trying to help. “I’m sorry. I know you mean well. I’m just—I’m a little on edge.”
More like all kinds of weirded out due to my Lane situation.

Mom unpacks the last of the food—that’ll wind up going home with her anyway—and comes over to me on the couch. Just like when I was a kid, she brushes the loose strands of hair from my forehead and places a tender kiss there. “Well, then this little rest came at a good time, sweetheart. You’ve been running yourself ragged. You’re allowed to take a break.”