Read Online Challenge by Amy Daws - Free Book Online Page B

after anything except some sleep, Indie.” At least for now. Sleep and a distraction is what I need, even if it isn’t the naked kind. Focusing my efforts on this redhead is just what the doctor ordered. Pun intended. “My nerves are shot after today. I can’t quiet my mind. We can talk each other to sleep. It’ll be good for both of us.”
    She stops chomping on her lip long enough to say, “The best I can do is sit in here until you fall asleep.”
    It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it. “Stay as long as you’d like. The nurse said she wouldn’t bother me again until eight a.m. That nurse was an interesting one, I’d say. Her bedside manner could rival Hitler. And I think her chin mole had its own beard.”
    She giggles and my heart races. I’m winning. I’ve always been good at winning.
    “Don’t laugh too loud. You don’t want Beardie to overhear,” I state. “You might want to set your alarm just in case you fall asleep,” I offer, attempting to capitalise on her good humour.
    She rolls her eyes but makes her way to the chair. I’ve had to use a lot of my charm on this girl, but something tells me she might be worth it.
    “Are you sure you don’t want to climb in? My bed is quite nice…VIP and all. And, unlike Beardie, I have great bedside manners.”
    She turns on her heel to face me. Her pointer finger is raised like a schoolteacher when she says, “There is absolutely no chance of you getting your balls wet if that’s where your mind is going, Camden Harris.”
    My boisterous laugh is deep and genuine, and her eyes fly wide as she falls down on me and claps her hand over my mouth. “Careful. You don’t want Beardie to come in.”
    Hearing her say Beardie is comedy at its finest, but there’s nothing funny about having her close to me again. She moves her hand off my mouth and eyes my lips, probably thinking about the kiss we shared earlier, just as I am. I bite my tongue to gain control. She’s even more beautiful up close as my nightlight reveals a light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
    She’s beautiful and funny?
    I think I might be in love.
    She pulls back and settles herself in the overstuffed chair beside my bed, scrolling through something on her mobile. I watch her while she wiggles to find a comfortable spot.
    Being a professional footballer, I’ve had some majorly confident women throw themselves at me. They’re usually kitted out in flossy gossamer undergarments that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.
    Indie, on the other hand, looks perfectly confident in scrubs and trainers. Maybe it’s the whole doctor/patient fantasy that gets me going, but I’d like to explore everything underneath that fabric.
    Tearing my eyes from her, I flick the light off. The room is cast in complete darkness aside from the faint glow of the outside light streaming in through the curtains. She moves to deposit her mobile and glasses on the end table before slouching down in the chair.
    One part of my brain wants to say so much—crack a joke about what kind of knickers she wears under those scrubs, or ask her if she wants a shag after all. But the other part forces me to remain silent. This whole thing feels platonic but strangely intimate. Hearing her soft breaths, smelling her fresh scent. Her general presence is…comforting. I actually like having her in here. But having a woman near me and not slipping myself inside of her is foreign to me.
    A heaviness creeps over me at the realisation.
    She’s a necessary distraction. Nothing more. I need her here because if she’s not here I’ll have time to think about what’s really going on with me. That scares me more than anything.
    No matter how simple they say the surgery will be, it’s still surgery. I’m still getting knocked out. They act like this will make me good as new, but part of me fears that I’ll never get back what I’ve lost. I was on such a lucky streak prior to this. Then, in one quick instant,