Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MURPHY
The first rule of any PR day is don’t swear in front of the kids.
I remind myself of this as I step off the team bus and immediately nearly stack it over a rogue scooter on the pavement outside the children’s hospital. Ollie sees me flail and laughs so hard he nearly drops the teddy bear he’s carrying.
“Mate,” he wheezes. “Five seconds in and you’re already a hazard.”
“I’m a walking public service announcement,” I mutter, straightening up and brushing invisible dust off my joggers. “Safety first.”
The hospital entrance is already decked out with bunting and balloons in the team colours. A laminated poster of our squad leans against the reception desk with a Sharpie taped to it. Jacko’s face is right next to mine, both of us mid-roar, looking like we’re about to eat the camera.
Mike claps his hands. “Alright, team, same deal as last year. No swearing, no roughhousing, no sneaking off to the vending machines. That last one is mostly for you, Jacko.”
Jacko salutes with the gravity of a soldier. “Aye-aye, Captain.” Mike shakes his head, dismissing him instantly.
“Rooms on the first and second floors,” Mike continues. “Split into pairs. You’re there to listen, smile, and make the kids feel like stars. Got it?”
Everyone nods.
And then I see her.
Sophie Hart, hair pulled back, clipboard in hand. Leaning casually against the nurses’ station as though she owns the place, legs crossed at the ankle, mouth twitching with something halfway between amusement and mild exasperation.
She sees me too.
And God help me, the way her gaze flicks down my body like it’s accidental but absolutely isn’t? I feel it like a punch behind the ribs.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I say as I stroll over, keeping my voice low. “You stalking me now?”
“As if I have the time or the interest.” Sophie clicks her pen without looking at me. “Besides, Claire begged me to help run this thing. I tried to say no; it’s really not in my job description. You’re welcome.”
“You just couldn’t resist another morning with me.”
Her lips twitch again. “You think very highly of yourself, Murphy.”
I lean a little closer. “I had help.”
She doesn’t smile, not properly, but her eyes are warmer now, even as she flicks through her clipboard like I’m not unravelling slightly just looking at her.
Fake relationship, she said in the message last night. No more staying over.
But here we are.
Jacko claps a hand on my shoulder, jarring the tension. “You’re with me, Murph. Let’s go bring joy to the masses.”
“Try not to traumatise anyone,” Sophie calls after us.
“No promises!” Jacko chirps.
The first few rooms are easy. A mix of shy smiles, awkward handshakes, and wide-eyed stares. Ollie gets mobbed by a gaggle of kids who think he’s on Fortnite. Jacko tells a little girl we call him The Cookie Monster and then does a cookie-eating impression so realistic she shrieks with laughter.
I hit my stride around room four. The boy there, Max, is eleven and knows more about our stats than some of the guys do. I end up signing the back of his cast and promising to pass a message on to Dylan, who he calls “The Legend of Ice.”
“Tell him to score for me,” Max says, as if it’s a done deal.
“He’ll do it,” I promise.
When we step out into the hallway again, Sophie’s there. Clipboard gone. Coffee in hand.
“Making friends?” she asks, cocking a brow.
“I’m a delight,” I say. “Children love me.”
“They love puppies too.”
I grin. “You saying I’m adorable?”
“I’m saying you lick things you shouldn’t.”
Jacko chokes on his laughter. “Right. I’ll just go check the next room, shall I?”
Sophie watches him disappear, then turns back to me. There’s a flicker of something in her face now, something softer. She tilts her head. “You were good with Max,” she says.
“Yeah?”
She nods. “Didn’t think you had that gear.”
“I contain a multitude of gears.”
She snorts, then sips her coffee. “You read my message?”
“I did.”
“And you’re not going to argue?”
I step closer. Not touching her. Just enough so she’ll feel it. “Oh, I’m definitely going to argue. Just not here.”
She blinks at me. Then mutters, “Prick,” without much heat.
I grin. Because the thing is, she can say it’s fake all she wants. She can write the rules out in texts and pretend she’s in control. But I see the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention. And I’m going to prove her wrong.
One hospital visit at a time.
We have one last thing to do before we can leave.
The hospital recreation room has been cleared to make space.
Bright murals of cartoon animals stretch across the walls, and someone’s set up a balloon arch behind the lineup of folding chairs where a few of the children sit, IV poles trailing beside them like silent sentinels.
Some are in wheelchairs. Others lean against nurses in pale blue scrubs.
Laughter rings out as one of the kids tugs Jacko’s beard and declares him “the Yeti with skates.”
I stand tall in my team jersey, positioned dead centre in the back row. The room smells of antiseptic and banana-scented sanitizer. My attention is locked on the woman to my right, Sophie.
“You’re standing too close,” Sophie murmurs without looking at me, her arm brushing mine.
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” I mutter back. “I’m providing emotional support. It’s charitable.”
“Your definition of charity sounds a lot like groping.”
“I haven’t even started groping. But thanks for the green light.”
Sophie turns her head just enough to level me with a look that could fry my larynx. “Murphy.”
“What?”
The camera clicks. One of the kids, Maya, the tiny girl with the oxygen tubes and glitter nails, throws up peace signs and yells, “You two are my OTP!”
I snort. “Told you we were convincing.”
Sophie’s face remains professional, but her lips twitch. “Convincing doesn’t mean real.”
I lean just a hair closer, not enough for anyone to notice in the photos, but enough for her to feel it.
“Maybe not,” I say. “But if it was real, you’d be smiling at me like that.”
“I’m smiling for the children.”
I give her a sideways glance, all smirk and sin. “Yeah. That’s what I tell myself too.”
The photographer shouts, “Big smiles, everyone!” just as Jacko lets out a loud fake sneeze and Ollie pretends to faint for comic relief. Maya giggles uncontrollably. Sophie rolls her eyes but her shoulder stays pressed lightly to mine.
Just for the photo. Just for the kids. Obviously.