Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,18

two—if you’ve legitimately forgotten, your ass is on the sidelines. Permanently.”

That silenced the cafeteria. A single tray clattered to the floor. The defensive line dove behind a stack of chairs.

Jude cleared his throat. “Is this about…”

“Distributing confidential medical diagnoses to unauthorized personnel?”

Jack whistled. “Jesus Jude, what’d you do?”

Jude ignored him. “Don’t tell me…Eric?”

“Oh good, your memory’s back! Just in time for me to knock the sense out of you.”

Jude took the threat seriously. He faked a chuckle. “You win, Doc. Let’s go eat, calm down, and we’ll discuss it. Hell, I’ll even take you out for lunch. Just…don’t look at me like you’re planning to cram that apple down my throat.”

“Wrong end, Jude.”

“Oh snap!” Lachlan backed away. “Run, Jude! Before she makes you turn your head and cough!”

“Rory, I’m sorry,” Jude said. “Let’s go get something to eat and talk this out?”

I wasn’t going anywhere. I grabbed the apple. “We’ll eat right here.”

I took one bite, swallowed hard, and then ate another.

“What do you know…” I chomped a piece too big for my mouth. “I’m full. Let’s go—”

I accidentally inhaled.

And the chunk of apple lodged in my throat.

I couldn’t tell if it was karmic or divine intervention, but the bite of fruit wedged in my airway.

Nothing like deep-throating Johnny Appleseed to let my tonsils commune with nature.

This was bad. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t cough.

Couldn’t smack Jude for this enchanting little catastrophe in the middle of the Rivets’ lunch hour.

I reached for his hand.

“I know, I know,” Jude said. “Look, I’m sorry. Are you sure you want to talk about it now?”

Lachlan attempted to come to his defense. “Yeah. It is sloppy joe day. Kinda the best day around here.”

Jack swooped in, elbowing Jude. “Word of advice. Go. Buy her lunch. Buy her jewelry. Just don’t piss off a team doctor. She who controls the jock strap controls life. Goes for doctors and wives.”

Tears sprung to my eyes. I thumped my chest.

Lachlan laughed. “And how much jewelry does Leah own?”

“I used my signing bonus to buy a diamond mine,” Jack said. “And she wasn’t half as expensive as bribing Louisa after I’d pulled my hamstring. Christ. Feels like I’ve spent this whole fucking summer either flat on the examination table or pinned to the bed. Either way, I’m getting yelled at with my pants down. It’s best to surrender and do whatever they want.”

My chest ached. I tried to cough. It got me nowhere.

Lachlan seemed sympathetic. “So no second baby yet?”

“I’m fucking exhausted.” Jack rubbed his face. “It wasn’t this hard before.”

“Maybe that’s the problem?” Lachlan elbowed his side. Jack gripped his arm and nearly broke his wrist. Lachlan grunted. “Or stress. It’s probably the stress.”

I was better off running face-first into the wall to smash the apple in my throat. I beat on Jude’s arm as I clutched my neck. That got their attention.

Lachlan panicked. “Shit, I’m bad at charades.”

Jack swore as he stared at me. “Fuck, she’s choking!”

I practically applauded the quarterback. At least the team was in his competent hands.

I, however, was slowly dying.

Jude leapt into action, grabbing a chair for me. Unless he planned to bash it into my back, it wasn’t going to do a damn bit of good.

“Rory, are you okay?” Jude searched the cafeteria. “Who’s a doctor?”

I frantically pointed to myself. Not that it would help.

Eight years of medical school. Two hundred thousand dollars in debt. Selling my soul for a fellowship. And all I learned was that an apple a day would keep the doctor at least six feet away.

And under.

Jude smacked my back, a shade above a naughty spank but too low for a decent rub. I gestured with my thumbs upward.

He slapped my neck.

Oh, good Lord, I was going to die.

The panic swelled, but I couldn’t let my vision go fuzzy without saving my own butt. I spun around, slamming my back into Jude’s chest. I wrapped myself in his embrace—not how I’d imagined this fantasy playing out. He folded his palms, and I positioned them at my diaphragm.

I hoped I was miming the Heimlich maneuver and not giving him a twenty-dollar lap dance.

“Are you sure?” Jude gripped me tight. “What about…”

I didn’t listen. I jerked his hands up once more, desperate for air. He grunted and heaved with me.

Once. Twice.

Out popped the apple.

I managed one gasp before everything else tried to come up with it. My dignity. My charm. Every ounce of my professionalism.

I made it to the garbage and spat most of my breakfast into the can.

The team watched