Good Boy (WAGs #1)(78)

Now Leila is looking at Jess the same way she looked at me when we walked in. And I know without any doubt that all of her patients will wear that same expression when she enters their rooms. Jess is a rock star. She leans over Leila and gives the kid a hug.

“Me too,” I say, bending over the both of them. “Group hug!”

“I want a picture,” Leila begs as I squeeze the both of them. “My brother is going to freak out when I tell him I met you.”

“Awesome. I love freaking people out. Where’s your phone?”

The phone is fetched, and I sit one half of my ass on the bed so I can take a good photo with Leila. And I smile for the camera even though my heart is breaking.

My smile stays in place until we exit the hospital building, but once we step outside, I take a giant breath of non-sanitized air and let it out in a gust. “Fuck a duck. How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Jess squeezes my hand. She looks calm and happy now, and I’m a total wreck.

“That—help a kid with her knitting when she might die? Cheezus. I think I need some chocolate ice cream just to rebound from that.”

“Aw!” She jumps up to smack a kiss on my cheek. “You were great! I thought she was going to burst a vessel just from shaking your hand.”

“Eh. But that was just because I play hockey on TV, you know? It’s just a party trick. You’re the one who really soothed her. You’re amazing.” I sweep her up in my arms until her feet leave the ground, and hold on tight.

I don’t plan to ever let her go.



Jess and I go back to my place, which is where we usually hang out on the nights I’m home. Her dorm room is the size of my closet and offers zero privacy…and we need lots of privacy for the dirty activities we like to engage in. I don’t know how dirty we’ll get tonight, though. Jess has been quiet ever since we left the hospital. I guess she’s bummed about Leila’s surgery.

Good thing I’m a pro at cheering her up.

“Hey, you wanna go out for ice cream?” I call out from the kitchen.

Jess is on the living room couch, her blonde head bent over her laptop. “It’s November,” she calls back.

“Is that a yes?”

“Nope.”

Her tone is absentminded, and I can tell she’s not listening to me at all. I wander over to the sectional. “What are you looking at?”

Before my ass even hits the cushions, Jess has slammed the laptop shut.

I grin. “Porn, huh? All right.” I start to unzip my pants. “Let’s do this.”

She lets out a strangled laugh. “We’re not watching porn together.”

“But we’re a couple now,” I protest. “That’s what couples do.” I reach for the computer. “So what are we watching? Girl on girl? Ménage?”

“I wasn’t watching porn!” She sounds exasperated, and she’s slapping my hand away from the laptop, which only heightens my curiosity.

“Then what were you doing?” I challenge.

Jess huffs out a breath. “If you must know, I was checking my credit card balance.” She smacks my hand again, and I release the MacBook. “And there’s no way I’m letting you see it. My bleak financial landscape is kind of a mood killer, okay?”

I frown. I noticed she’s been charging a lot to her Visa lately, but I hadn’t realized her cash sitch was that dire. “How bleak?” I ask slowly.

Her bottom lip drops out. “Very bleak,” she admits. “My living expenses are higher than I thought they’d be, and I already burned through all the money I got from selling my car back in Cali.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is this why you’re not going home for Thanksgiving?”

I know Jamie already bought his plane ticket home and is leaving in a couple of days, but every time I’ve asked Jess why she’s not going with him, she’s insisted she’s swamped with school work and can’t afford to take the time off. Which makes sense, because Canadian Thanksgiving was a month ago and the school doesn’t take a break for the American holiday.

The way she guiltily averts her eyes tells me I’m right. “It’s not just the money,” she mutters. “I really can’t miss school.”

“Jamie’s only going for two days,” I point out. “I’m sure you’ll be able to catch up on two days’ worth of work.” I hesitate. “You could hit me up for a loan.”

Her jaw hardens. “No. I am not borrowing money from you. I’m not borrowing money from anyone anymore, okay?”

Then she shoots off the couch and stalks to the kitchen, where she grabs a drinking glass from the cabinet. She continues to grumble as she fills it with water from the dispenser in the fridge.

“Jamie and Wes already offered to lend me some. My mom offered to buy me a ticket so I could come home.” She turns to glare at me. “And I said thank you, but no. You want to know why?”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Because you’re a Stubborn Susie who apparently hates Thanksgiving?”

Jess slams the glass on the counter without even taking a sip. “I love Thanksgiving!” she bursts out, and there’s a slight crack to her voice. “I love turkey and stuffing and cranberries and I love California and I love my family and I hate relying on them for money! I hate not having five hundred measly dollars in the bank to pay for a plane ticket home! I. Hate. It.”