Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) by Kate Rivers Read Free Book Online Page A

sudden cheery thought struck her: he must be here for her. Of
course, she was here in the hospital bed, he was obviously here because he knew
her, cared about her, and was making sure she was alright. Clearly he could
help out with the whole
not-remembering-anything-from-more-than-sixty-seconds-ago problem she was
currently having. But, he looked so peaceful there asleep, she decided to
continue investigating the situation without him for now.
              She took in
the room again. Hanging from the machines was a clipboard filled with writing.
Across the top was an admission date and a name: Doe, Jane. Right then, she
thought. I must be Jane. What next? She took the clipboard down and read it. It
said Jane Doe had been admitted around 3pm after being struck by an automobile,
immediately taken to the surgical floor to repair a broken arm (“protruding
humerus” was the term used on the form), and assigned to room 307 shortly after
5pm. The patient also suffered a severe concussion from a blow to the back of
the head and had not yet regained consciousness. She pieced the ideas together.
She must have been hit by a car. The injuries mentioned on the clipboard made
sense, given that part of her left arm was immobile and she was vaguely aware
of bandages around her forehead. So, Jane, she thought to herself, nice to meet
you.
              Deciding she
had exhausted her ability to discover information on her own, she turned her
attention again to the man.
    “Um,
hello?” she said tentatively. The pattern of his snoring changed slightly, but
then resumed. Well, this is awkward, she thought. Great, so I’m
self-deprecating, chalk that up in the things-I-know column.
    “Um,
you!” she said, a little louder. She had no idea what the man’s name was, and
therefore wasn’t sure what she should call him. “Um, man over there! Chair guy!
Little help here!” She raised her voice with each new sentence. This guy slept
like he was dead as a doornail.
    “Hey!”
she fairly shouted. Still the soft snoring. Well, she thought ruefully, this
can’t get much more awkward, and in for a penny, in for a pound (she wasn’t
quite sure why, but that seemed like something she would say). She removed the
clipboard from its hanger, held it steady in her good arm for a moment, then
gently but firmly chucked it at the man in the chair.
    ****
    Dean
didn’t remember falling asleep, but years of playing a character who was often
reduced to tears over the lamentable mortality of his non-vampire associates
had taught him that crying is exhausting work. He must have fallen asleep in
the chair next to the girl’s bed, because that is where he woke with a sudden
start. More exactly, he woke with what later proved to be a clipboard hitting
him in the forehead.
    “What
the?!” he exclaimed, putting a hand to his head.
    A
lovely voice, almost singsong in its apologetic tone answered him. “Um, sorry?”
Suddenly where he was and how he got there hit him far more forcefully than the
clipboard had. He jumped up out of the chair.
    “You’re
awake!” Relief and panic flooded him equally. Relief that she was awake, and panic
that she would remember what he had done.
    “It
would seem so,” she said with a smile. Dean fought back the tears that
threatened to start all over again. Looking at the woman in blue smile at him
with those green eyes (and dimples, he noted), he had never been so happy and
so terrified at once.
    “I…”
words were failing him. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
    “Yeah,
well, me too,” she said, grinning at his enthusiasm for her ability to regain
consciousness. Damn, she thought, he was way more handsome awake than asleep.
    Expectant
silence crept up between them, each unsure of what to say next.
    Dean
stood waiting for the ax to fall as she took a moment to find her verbal
footing. “Um, I was actually wondering if you could help me with something?”
she asked finally.
    It
was not what Dean had expected