Puck Block : A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

I didn’t see this coming, and I feel so ignorant.

Emory was right. It’s obvious that I can’t take care of myself.

Even after listening to Ford and coming to the realization that messing with a few of my insulin doses wasn’t safe, I still missed the signs that I was in a diabetic crisis. I should have known better. I should have made an appointment with Dr. McCarthy instead of waiting until the one at the end of this month.

My eyes open as soon as I hear the door. I blink through my drowsiness but wake right up when I see Ford and his crooked smile heading toward me.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Are you okay? How is your head?” I ask, sitting up.

He chuckles with a shake of his head. His dusty-blond hair is messy, and the color on his face is lacking–yet he still looks handsome. “Are you really asking me if I’m okay right now?”

I pause. “Well, are you?”

“I’m fine.” He intertwines our fingers, locking them together. “Considering.”

 My mouth quirks. “I’m glad to see Emory didn’t kill you.”

He laughs tightly. “For a second there, I thought your parents were going to kill me too. You’ll be surprised to know that Emory was the one who changed their minds.”

My forehead creases, but his hand tightens on mine before he says, “Don’t do that to me ever again.”

My breath is shallow, as he tugs on our joined hands and places them over his heart. “Do you feel this?”

The muscle in his chest thumps hard and speeds with velocity. I nod.

“It’s yours.”

My eyes burn, and I feel a fullness that wasn’t there before. One tear slips over my cheek, and he swipes it away.

“I know that for years I’ve called you Heartbreaker…” he whispers, “but don’t you dare break my heart, Taytum. You got it?”

The tiniest smile slips onto my face. “I can’t make any promises.”

His eyes narrow. “You and your fucking games,” he mutters. “Scoot.”

I make room for him on the bed, and he takes me in his arms.

There’s a lot going on, and I’m hit with guilt knowing there’s going to be even more medical bills my parents will have to face on top of what they’re going to think about Ford and me, but I know, with him by my side, it’ll be fine.

It’s me and him, against everyone else.

“Ford?” I whisper.

“Heartbreaker?” he whispers back.

I settle in closer. “I love you.”

His heart beats faster against my ear. “I love you too.”

I turn, and his mouth is already there, waiting for me. His hand sweeps my hair away from my cheek, and I’m in a world of bliss when he kisses me. I feel right at home with each caress of his lips—so much that when someone clears their throat, I almost don’t pull away.

Ford and I break apart, but he keeps his back to Dr. McCarthy.

“Ford.”

Ford grumbles under his breath.

I meet Dr. McCarthy’s disapproving look. and he sighs exasperatedly. “Will you tell him to go get his CT?”

My jaw drops. “Ford Collins!”

He sighs. “Ugh, fine!”

I watch him drag his feet all the way to the doorway before he turns and reassures me that he’ll be right back. Then he says, “Oh, and by the way, I figured out a plan to afford that pump. That way, this”—he points back and forth between me and my IV— “will never happen again.’

He winks and saunters out the door.