The Trouble With Quarterbacks(79)

“If it weren’t for me, this would have never happened.”

He’s the one with the soft voice now. I’m the one shouting and growing angrier by the second.

“You’re kidding me! What a load of piss! You’re worried because I’ve been hurt and now your way of making sure I’m okay is to break it off with me? Too bad! I’m breaking it off with you first. How’s that!”

Our voices must have carried out into the hall because there’s a knock on the door, followed by a gentle voice. “Hello? Is everything okay in here? Candace, I’d like to do a quick check of your vitals.”

Then a nurse walks in with tight braids and green glasses and a gentle smile.

“Yes, that’s fine. He was just leaving anyway,” I say, jutting my chin out toward Logan.

“Candace—”

“I can come back in a few minutes?” the nurse offers, glancing awkwardly between us. “Though I should warn you, Candace, you’ve been through quite a lot today, and I don’t recommend making it any worse…”

She’s trying to tell me to stop shouting at my boyfriend, and that’s fine. I’m done shouting at him. He can damn well leave for all I care.

“I’ll come back later,” he tells me as he starts to head out of the room, and because the pain of our argument still stings, I fire back a two-word response that I immediately regret.

“Don’t bother.”

He nods, turns, and leaves the room.

And just like that, we’re over.

The door slams and I let out an angry groan.

“Right, well…good riddance!” I shout in his wake. “Who needs a man like that anyway? I’ll show him. I’ll have a new boyfriend by the end of the day. Maybe I’ll meet a handsome doctor or nurse or janitor. I don’t bloody well care who he is. I’ll just make sure Logan knows I’ve moved on and he can go do whatever he damn well pleases. Breaking up with me like that when I’m already in hospital! Who does he think he is?!”

The nurse just blinks at me, a little taken aback. “Boyfriend troubles?”

“Not anymore! Have you got a single brother you could set me up with?”

She actually smiles at that, though she tries to hide it. “I don’t think you want to be set up with anyone just yet. Here, lie back and let me see your hand.”

“Oh, I assure you I do. I’m as single as they come. Completely solo as of, oh…thirty seconds ago.”

“If you ask me, I don’t think he was going to break up with you.”

“And how would you know?” I ask, all menacing.

She glances behind her and looks back at me, as if weighing her options. Then she shrugs and admits, “Well, I was listening at the door. I was supposed to come in a few minutes ago, but you two were really going at each other.”

“What a Nosey Nellie! Can’t say I blame you. Actually, it’s good that you were listening—you can give me some proper advice. So you don’t think he was going to break it off with me?”

She’s examining my hand when she replies, “No. It’s obvious he feels guilty. He’s the one who forced you into the limelight, and now look, it’s landed you in the hospital.”

I drum the fingers of my good hand against my chin, considering what she’s said. “It sounds bad when you put it like that.”

“Exactly. So it’s natural that he would want to reassess the relationship and make sure you’re still up for the challenge after all that’s happened. I think it’s actually really considerate of him.”

Her eyes have gone a bit moony.

“I can’t help but feel like you’re really taking his side.”

She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a big fan.”

I roll my eyes. “You too? Sheesh. What is it with Americans and football? Is it all that interesting?”

“Oh, I don’t even watch the sport. I just know him from when he was on the cover of People last year. Have you seen it? They did this whole spread where he was only wearing his football pants and nothing else.”

Her cheeks have flushed, and I swear she’s really heating herself up talking about it. Pretty soon the poor thing will need to go into the loo over there and splash some cold water on her face.

“Oh jeez. Sounds utterly ridiculous.” I roll my eyes. Then I lean in close. “Can you pull up the photos and show me?”





I sigh into my mobile, antsy to end the conversation with my parents.

“I’m totally fine,” I assure Mum. “You don’t need to worry. They’re only keeping me here overnight to cover their bases.”

“Well that’s what it’s like being a proper celebrity.”

“Mum, I’m not a celebrity.”

“Say that to the press! You’ve been on the telly three times since I started watching this afternoon. They keep calling you the luckiest girl in New York or something like that. I taped one of the stories, but then your Dad mucked it up and rolled some Arsenal footage over it.”

“That’s okay. I don’t really need to see it. I’m living it.”

“Right, right. So you’re sure you’re all right? No permanent damage? While you’re in hospital, you ought to see if they can check your head, right in the back behind your ear. I dropped you when you were a baby and I’m still a bit concerned I might have done some real damage.”