Good Boy (WAGs #1)(32)

Despite myself, a laugh pops out. That makes his green eyes light up.

“A laugh? Oh yeah, I’m totally getting some tonight.”

I resume my chopping. “I’m sorry to inform you that you’re not. I’m just here to eat.”

“Me too. I like eating. Food, but also other things. I’m a voracious eater, Jessie.”

I snicker.

“Holy cannoli! Another laugh? I’m on fire tonight.”

He’s so ridiculous, it’s impossible not to smile, but my good humor doesn’t last long. I’ve cut up enough peppers and now it’s time to dice an onion. But the fake tears it brings to my eyes confuse my already depressed mind, and suddenly I’m blinking back real tears.

“I skipped class,” I blurt out.

“Abrupt subject change,” Blake remarks.

I blink faster. “Well, I didn’t skip it entirely. I just left early.” Before Nurse Hailey could call me out for being a screw-up in front of my fellow students.

“Okay… Should I call the cops and report you?”

Stifling a sigh, I set down the knife and meet his bewildered eyes. “I didn’t observe.”

“Cheezus. Do you always talk in riddles?”

I quickly explain myself. “We were in the cancer ward. The kiddie cancer ward.”

“Eek.”

“I know, right? And we were supposed to sit down with one of the patients and talk to them, but, you know, observe them at the same time. For visible symptoms.” The sigh slips out. “I got the talking part down pat, but I totally dropped the ball on the observing. I didn’t take any notes. Everyone else took notes, and then Nurse Hailey wanted us to report our findings and…I just bailed. I was too embarrassed. I felt like such an idiot.”

I keep my gaze on the cutting board, because I’m yet again feeling embarrassed. I can’t believe I’m spilling my guts to this man.

A warm hand lands on my cheek, making me jerk in surprise. I raise my head and see Blake’s somber gaze fixed on me.

“You’re not an idiot, Jess,” he says quietly. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“Yeah, I’m so smart I spent twenty minutes teaching a kid about knitting instead of doing the job I was supposed to do.”

“What was she like?”

The question comes out of left field. “What do you mean?”

“The kid you were talking to. What was she like?”

“Frustrated,” I admit. “She was knitting a hat for her brother and couldn’t get the stitching right.”

“Why not? Does she just suck at knitting, or were her hands too weak?”

I think it over. “No, her hands were steady. I mean, she had bruising on her wrists and the insides of her elbows from all the needles, but her grip was strong.” I chew on my bottom lip. “But she had dark circles under her eyes, too, so maybe she was too tired to knit.” I smile. “And she was kinda cranky.”

“Stage three cancer? Four?” he asks.

“Four.”

Blake nods, his fingertips lazily tracing my jawline. I find myself leaning into the warmth of those big fingers.

“Crankiness makes sense,” he says. “You see a lot of anger and irritability at the terminal stage.”

My forehead wrinkles. “How do you know that?”

“My grandpa died of colon cancer a few years back. He was a cranky son of a bitch by the end. The pain got to him, screwed with his head.”

I think back to Leila, trying to remember if she’d shown any signs of pain. Her breathing hadn’t sounded too stable, and she’d been so pale. And thin. So damn thin. My heart clenches at the memory.

“Sounds to me like you observed plenty.” Blake’s thumb teases my lips, and then he lightly pinches them. “Maybe next time you should write that shit down. Or at the very least, stick around for the debriefing, or whatever you call it in nursing school, and tell your teacher everything you just told me.”

I bristle, but only for a second. He’s right. I had observed. I’d observed without even realizing it, and now I feel like an even bigger idiot.

“Argh!” I groan. “Why didn’t I stay?”

“Panic?” he offers.

Yes. Panic. And that crushing feeling of inferiority that my awful roommate seems to instill in me. “I saw Violet’s clipboard and…” Another groan slips out. “She wrote a fucking essay, Blake, and it killed my confidence.”

“Violet? The evil roommate?”

I nod. I’ve complained about her every time I’ve visited the condo, but I’m surprised Blake actually paid attention. He doesn’t come off as someone who retains information, unless it relates to sex or hockey.

“She makes me feel like such a loser,” I confess. “She’s just so…smart. Scary smart. She spends all her free time with her nose buried in a textbook. I swear, she studies twenty-four/seven. I asked her if she wanted to study together and she…” My cheeks heat up. “She laughed at me.”

Blake hops up on the countertop and rests his hands on his massive thighs. I’m surprised the counter doesn’t collapse under his hefty weight. “Well, that’s your mistake right there, honey. You don’t try to make friends through studying.”