Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) - Lyssa Kay Adams Page 0,9
breathed, her hand fluttering to her mouth. She had to grab the back of her desk chair to keep from losing her balance.
“Elena,” Josh said gently. “I promise you, he is being taken care of. All you have to worry about is getting here.”
“Does . . .” She stopped. There were a million questions behind that one word. Does he know you’re calling me? Does he want me there? And then another question. Did the team even know yet that they were getting a divorce? They had to know. Her visa was linked to Vlad’s and had been arranged through their immigration attorneys. Once the divorce was final, she would be deported. But if they knew, why were they sending for her?
Josh let out a frustrated sigh, and this time, his voice took a hard turn. “Look, Elena. I don’t know what’s going on with you two. I’ve never understood your marriage, but it’s not my business. All I know is that he’s scared, and he’s going to need someone to hold his hand and to take care of him. Someone who really knows him, someone he trusts. I can’t get his parents here in time. That leaves you. So are you going to get on that plane, or not?”
He was right. Vlad shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Vlad had wonderful friends, but this was different. And maybe it was selfish, but suddenly the answer was staring her in the face. How could she ever pay him back? How could she ensure that they parted as friends?
This. She could do this.
She was going to take care of him.
Elena straightened and swallowed away her doubts. “I am on my way.”
CHAPTER TWO
At just before four thirty a.m., Elena walked into the dark, empty lobby of the hospital and approached the lone security guard sitting at the half-moon reception desk. Her heavy backpack full of all her story research and her laptop dug into a large knot on her shoulder, and her arm throbbed as she dragged her small suitcase behind her. She’d packed quickly, focusing more on getting all of her notes than clothes. She wasn’t even sure if she remembered to grab pajamas.
“I’m here to see a patient.”
The guard—a youngish woman with a hard edge to her—barely looked up when Elena spoke. “Visiting hours don’t start until seven.”
“But it’s my husband. I just got in.”
The woman glanced up finally. “Name?”
“Vlad Konnikov.”
The woman snorted and rolled her eyes. “Nice try.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re the tenth fan who has tried to get in here to see him.”
Elena had barely registered that bit of information when she heard an out-of-breath voice behind her. “Elena, hi, sorry.”
Josh Bierman jogged to the desk in a disheveled dress shirt and jeans. He waved at the guard. “It’s okay. This one is actually his wife.”
Elena wanted to nurture the small flame of resentment that she’d been dismissed as just another puck bunny, but what right did she have to feel slighted? She hadn’t even been watching the game. She’d never been a real hockey wife and never would be.
Josh reached for her things. “Let me take those from you.”
Elena clung to the backpack. “I—I’ll carry this.”
Josh nodded and took the handle of the suitcase from her. “He’s on the fourth floor. The elevator is around the corner up here.”
“How is he?”
“He’s in recovery.”
“Did you call his parents?”
Josh hit the button for the elevator. “Talked to his dad about an hour ago.”
It would be late afternoon in Omsk, the Siberian town where she and Vlad had grown up and where Vlad’s parents still lived. Elena had spent countless hours as a child and teenager in their home to escape the emptiness and the silence of her own.
As they exited the elevator, Elena tugged her backpack higher on her shoulder and followed Josh down the hallway. Their sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floor, a chirping chorus to the drumbeat of her suitcase’s wheels. Josh settled his hand gently on her back and guided her around a corner. Two automatic doors whooshed open at their approach. Inside, a nurses’ station sat at the center of a star-shaped intersection of hallways. A man in blue scrubs sat behind the tall counter, studying a computer screen. He glanced up briefly and then nodded in recognition at Josh.
“He’s in room 414,” Josh said in a hushed tone. “It’s a VIP room, so there is a couch you can lie down on until he wakes up, if you want.”