“That sucks,” she says when he’s told her about the hit during the game and that he’ll likely be out for a few weeks. “I broke my arm in seventh grade and missed twelve weeks of tennis.”
“Tennis, huh?”
“Yep, just like Bridget.”
Ash’s gaze lifts. “You play tennis?”
“I did. Not anymore.”
“She was, like, really, really good,” Liza says.
“How would you know?” I ask her. We talked about it a couple of times, but I know I never claimed to be good. I was decent as a kid, but I didn’t put as much effort into it as I got older and hit a plateau.
“I saw some old videos on YouTube. She won a couple of local tournaments.”
“Is that right?” Ash asks her, but his eyes are locked on me. “How did I not know this?”
“Maybe because we met four hours ago.”
“That’s not entirely accurate.”
I glare at him. If he tells Liza the whole story like he did the nurses upstairs, I’ll duct tape his mouth closed. As if he can see my thoughts, Ash’s upper body shakes with quiet laughter. He turns his attention back to Liza. “I might need to see some of these videos.”
“I’m out of screen time until tomorrow,” she says with a frown.
Thank goodness.
“Good thing I have mine.” Ash’s voice is saccharin sweet as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.
“Knock, knock,” Mindy says as she stands in the doorway of Liza’s room. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to check your blood sugar.”
“Now?” Liza asks with a whine.
“We should get back anyway,” I tell her. “Ash needs to sleep, and my lunch break is almost over.”
“All right.” The disappointment in her voice always tugs at my heart.
“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” I promise.
“Nice to meet you,” Ash says to her. “Thanks for keeping me company.”
When he tries to hand her back the book of Sudoku puzzles, she shakes her head. “Keep it. I have a stack of them.”
We say our goodbyes and Ash and I head out.
He doesn’t say anything until we get on the elevator.
“Is she going to be okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I nod. “She’s a brittle diabetic, which means her blood glucose is harder to control. She’s had to stay in the hospital quite a bit since her diagnosis.”
He nods thoughtfully as he leans back against the elevator wall.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m all right.”
“Liar. Your head hurts, doesn’t it? You keep clenching your jaw.”
A small smile tugs up one side of his mouth. “It kills.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you down here.”
“No,” he says quickly. “I’m glad you did. Liza was cool and I got to learn more about you. A tennis player, huh?”
“I was, yeah. I quit the team last year.”
“I’d love to watch you play sometime.”
“You want to watch a college tennis match?”
“I want to watch you play.”
I don’t even try to resist rolling my eyes at him.
“I play a little. My uncle owns a country club. I spent every summer working there until I graduated college. I could take you to dinner and then we could hit the ball back and forth a bit.”
The doors open on the orthopedic floor and we step out and slowly walk back toward his room.
“With one arm?” I ask.
He flashes a cocky smile. “I’m wildly talented with the right incentive.”
Yeah, I’ll bet he is.
“And my nurse will be there in case I need anything.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m not dating right now.”
“Right. Because you’re busy.”
“I am,” I insist, voice on the verge of a screech. “I have a lot going on.”
When we get to his room, he walks right in and climbs into bed. He rests his head back on the pillow and waits for me to continue.
“I work all night, go to school all day. Any spare minutes I find, I’m usually studying or figuring out what I’m going to feed myself. Seriously, who knew the worst part of being an adult would be deciding on and cooking dinner? I haven’t read a book for fun or watched TV or gone to the tennis court in so long, I basically have no hobbies.”
Something in the way he looks at me, half-amused and wholly focused, pushes me to keep going. “And today I found out that I’m going to have to move from my rental, so that’ll take days or weeks of searching for something close to campus that I can afford. See? I definitely don’t have time to date.”