Chapter 20
Sunshine trickled through the hospital window and hit Brooke’s face.
Drowsy, she swiped her eyes and slowly gained her bearings.
Hospital, surgery, appendicitis. She stretched then winced.
Her abdomen still stung with the slightest shift.
But nothing compared to the pain she’d experienced before she passed out.
Across the room sat Logan. Their eyes locked. “Hey.” She pressed the button on the bed to raise it to sitting position. “You’re still here.”
“Hi, sunshine.” Logan scuttled out of his chair and rounded the bed and sat on the edge of it. “You’re back in the land of the living.” He found her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m still not feeling a hundred percent.” Brooke knew she looked like a hot mess. Slime coated her teeth. She scrunched her nose to the feeling of grease slathered across it. Her hand attempted to smooth out her dirty and dingy hair. “I can’t remember the last time I showered.”
“Unfortunately—” he squeezed her hand, “I think you’ll have to wait another twenty-four hours to shower. You still can’t get the incision wet.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “I look and feel disgusting.”
“I think you look beautiful.” He had a doe-eyed look.
“You’re lying.” Brooke’s lips twitched. “But I appreciate it.”
“It isn’t a lie.” Logan scooted closer to her on the bed. “I always think you look beautiful.”
“Again,” she wagged a finger. “Lies, but since I’m at an all-time low, I’ll accept your attempt at boosting my spirit.”
Dr. James barreled into the room interrupting them. “Everything is looking great.” She had a stack of papers in her hands. “I put in for you to be discharged tomorrow afternoon.”
“Really?” Brooke exchanged a look with Logan then peered back at the doctor. “So soon?”
“Your infection is under control, your incision is looking good, I figure you’d prefer sleeping in your own bed over this one as soon as possible,” Dr. James said.
“True,” Brooke agreed.
“Are you the significant other?” Dr. James asked.
“I’m the boyfriend.”
Boyfriend, Brooke liked the sound of that.
“Okay.” Dr. James glanced down at the paperwork then back at Logan. “So, I assume you’ll be helping Brooke with her recovery.”
“Yes, absolutely.” Logan stood.
“Then let me go over the aftercare with both of you.”
Dr. James reviewed the dos and don’ts after her surgery. Logan listened intently, which she appreciated, because her head throbbed a little and found concentrating extra difficult.
Once the explanation was completed, Dr. James said, “I understand you both work here, so I hope to see you in the hallways sometime.” Then she shoved her hands into her lab coat pockets.
“Yes, likewise,” Logan said.
Then Dr. James exited. They watched her leave.
When they were alone once more, Logan said, “I wanted to ask you—”
Then Brooke’s nurse entered to check her vitals, then further go over her discharge.
Whatever Logan cared to share with her had to wait, because a long stream of medical personnel seemed determined to keep them from discussing anything alone.
The rest of the evening and following morning continued in the same manner.
By the next afternoon, Brooke itched to go home and sleep in her own bed without being endlessly interrupted by random people. Logan brought over some comfy sweats from her apartment, and she changed into them before being discharged.
The doctor signed off on her release, and they exited her room to the elevator bay. Eventually, the elevators swung open. A few doctors and staff members tumbled out. Brooke and Logan waited for the elevator to clear before they entered it.
Once in the quiet of the elevator car. Brooke confessed, “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I made you go out with Shelby. Which I’m assuming if you’re here, it’s because things didn’t work out with her. I hope you staying by my side means you want something more between us.”
“I do,” Logan confirmed. “You know I do.” He took her hand and directed their bodies to touch.
She itched to kiss again. Her mind ran rampant with their romantic entanglements, and she wanted to let her body fold against his. She wanted to feel the hitch in her breath, the glide of his tongue, the parting of her lips. Brooke would let him stay for as long as he wanted, hopefully forever.
“Good,” she smirked. “Then my brilliant plan worked.”
He raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “I didn’t know you had one.”
“Neither did I. But apparently if you pass out, a handsome doctor might end up saving you.” Her lips twitched. “So, thank you.”
“I admit it certainly sealed the deal for me.” The elevator doors dinged and then swung open.
They left the elevator and meandered across the lobby. When they exited, warm Chicago night air whirled around them. A week ago, an unusual heat wave settled over the city. By next week, it would be gone, and the cold night air would return until summer.
“I ordered us food from the restaurant next to your apartment.” Logan’s hand found hers. “It won’t be a far walk. Maybe an extra fifty feet. Are you feeling strong enough?”
“I’m okay to walk.” She landed a short peck on his cheek. “Thank you.”
They took an uber to the restaurant next to her apartment.
When they climbed out, and the car drove away, she asked the question itching inside of her, “Do you think Danielle will ever learn to like me?”
He halted, making her nearly stumble against the back of his heels. “She already does, and for the record even if Danielle didn’t, I wouldn’t care. I’m done with other people telling me who to love and who to be with.”
“But she’s your sister,” Brooke insisted.
“And someday, I want you to be my wife,” he stated without hesitation.
“Wife, you say—”
“Wife supersedes sister, always.”
“Okay,” she softly replied.
His gaze glimmered with the overhead streetlamps and lights. People stumbled out of the shops and restaurants and passed by them on the sidewalk.
“We’ll have to see about that.” Then Brooke nudged her head in the direction of the restaurant. “Now, enough chatting I’m starving. This is where a package of Oreos would come in handy.”
“Oh.” Logan retrieved a small package out of his pocket and handed them to her. “These should hold you over until we get real food.”
“Oreos,” Brooke busted opened the package and ate a bite, “are real food. They’re the best food.”
Logan smirked. “Right—if you say so.” They walked to the restaurant door. He held the door open. “Mom is insisting on this dinner. Are you free any upcoming Sunday?”
“No,” Brooke wandered inside the tight foyer of the restaurant. The lights were low and the music a tad too loud. She spoke louder, “I have to work the next three Sundays.”
“Then they’ll have to wait.” Logan checked in with the host and let them know of their order.
The host disappeared into the belly of the restaurant and back to the kitchen.
He leaned his hip against the counter as he waited while Brooke polished off another Oreo. “We’ll go the next time you’re free.”
“Are you going to want to move back someday?” Brooke brushed some stray crumbs off her lip. “Live in a house on the same street as your parents and sister?”
“What do you want?” Logan studied her.
“I don’t know.” Brooke shoved the half-eaten package of Oreos into her pocket. Then she brushed her hands together. “That’s why I asked you.”
He shrugged. “Where you go, I go.”
“Okay.” Brooke furrowed her brow. “Meaning?”
“Food’s ready,” the host announced as they set the bag of food on the counter.
“I’ll live wherever you want.” He kissed her on the cheek, moved to the counter and paid for the food.
They left the restaurant. The tantalizing aroma of chicken, pita bread, and hummus wafted out of the bag. Another train rolled over their heads as they slowly traipsed the few remaining yards to her apartment.
“In the summer, I want to take you to Indiana Dunes.” He cradled the to-go bag in the crook of his arm while he laced his free hand with hers. “It’s on the coast of Lake Michigan and is about an hour drive.”
“How do you know we’ll even be a thing come summertime?” Brooke teased.
“A feeling,” he smirked. “I have a sixth sense about these types of things.”
Brooke’s apartment building came into view. “If we’re together, together, why haven’t you kissed me yet?” She scrunched her nose.
George waited outside in his usual spot.
Logan stopped. “I was waiting,” he twisted to face her, “you know with the whole passing out, emergency surgery, infection and stitches across your abdomen thing.”
“I think a kiss would be the perfect remedy for a very long couple of days,” she countered.
Then he dropped the bag of food to the ground beside his feet. He wrapped an arm around her waist and gingerly brought her close until their hips touched. “I have wanted to kiss you every second of every hour, since the last time.”
“Then it’s time you stopped counting.” Brooke peered up at him and cupped his jaw.
“I sent you away to Shelby. I’m sorry. I was scared.
I worried I wouldn’t be enough. I didn’t want to keep you from happiness.
Since my life isn’t perfect, and I have a less-than-ideal past, I sometimes question my worth.
I had an addict for a mother, a dead beat of a father, and somehow in that dysfunction I managed to put myself through college and medical school, but it doesn’t mean the scars have completely healed.
But I’d like to try with you. You make me feel worthy.
You make me believe in myself and most importantly in love. ”
Logan grinned. “I love,” he kissed her gently on the lips, “every part,” he kissed her on her cheek, “of you,” he kissed her on her temple.
Then he cradled her head between his hands. “And now, no more waiting.”
Then his lips gently graced hers.
His ChapStick coated her lips. Her heart sped up when his signature scent filled her lungs.
She memorized the feeling of his skin against her cheek, and his scruff against her chin.
The kiss was smooth and gentle like they were slowly floating away somewhere warm and incredible.
His strong arm supported her waist and kept her upright.
Her fingers traced his chest and eventually rested under the collar of his shirt.
He deepened their kiss making her lips part.
He tasted as good as she remembered. And she knew he was the person she wanted to kiss again and again until the day she died.
Brooke completely forgot about their location in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of the city.
The sounds of the city disappeared, because Logan made her imagine a life full of good things, great things, and better than there ever was things.
Someone whistled. Brooke pulled away and peered over her shoulder toward George who then pumped his arm in victory. “I’m glad to see you survived!” His voice barreled toward them.
“He let me in to your apartment when I went to get your change of sweats,” Logan revealed.
George whistled again.
“You know,” she fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, “he probably won’t stop until we stop.” Then she peered up at him.
“I know.” Logan grinned, sneaking a quick peck. “But I don’t care.”
“Me either.” Then he leaned in and kissed her again.