Chapter 34 34
Harmony's POV
At his words, I stood up and pulled my folder shut.
"I mean it about the rink," I told him, pointing at the window. "If you sneak out there again before you have clearance from me or your nurse, you are going to undo everything, and I will not be held responsible for whatever happens to that knee."
"Duly noted," Roman replied, reaching under his bed.
"I'm serious, Foster. Coach Bailey hasn't even cleared you yet, and you're out there doing laps as if..." I stopped. "What is that?"
Roman had pulled out a bottle of what I could only guess was Hennessy from under his bed, dark and half empty. As I watched, he unscrewed the cap and took a long gulp from it.
"Liqueur? Are you insane?" I whisper-yelled. "You have anti-inflammatory medication in your system. Alcohol and anti-inflammatories do not mix, and you know that because it is literally in the notes I wrote. Hand that bottle over!"
Roman pulled away from the bottle long enough to reply. "Like hell I will!"
I was about to reply when a knock came from the door, then Nurse Sarah's voice. "Mr Foster? Miss Sinclair? Are you done with the checkup?"
Roman moved faster than I thought he could. The bottle disappeared back under the bed in one fluid motion, and then he grabbed his duvet and yanked it sideways, scattering the sheets even further into a convincing mess. He grabbed the glass of water from his nightstand, swirled it around his mouth and swallowed, then turned to me with one finger pressed firmly to his lips.
I stared at him in horror, and he widened his eyes at me. The finger stayed at his lips. I pressed my mouth together and said nothing.
He messed up his hair with one hand, rolled his shoulders loose, and shuffled to the door with the slow and heavy drag of someone pulled from a deep sleep. He pulled it open and leaned against the frame.
"Good morning, Sarah," he murmured, making his voice thick and rough.
Nurse Sarah stood in the doorway with a plate of breakfast in one hand and his morning medication in the other, looking at him with a satisfied expression.
All I could do was watch all of this like I had accidentally walked into a theatre production. The man who had been drinking straight from a bottle of Hennessy, literally ninety seconds ago, was now smiling warmly at his nurse like a model patient.
The transformation was so complete and so immediate that I had to actively remind myself that I had not imagined the last five minutes.
"Eight forty," Nurse Sarah pointed out, checking her wristwatch as she stepped into the room. "You slept well, I hope, Mr Foster? I've brought your breakfast and your nine o'clock medication. I'd like you to take them together this morning."
"Of course, of course." Roman moved back to let her in, smiling warmly. "You're the best, Sarah, honestly."
Nurse Sarah set the plate on his desk and held out the small saucer of pills. Roman took them with a grateful nod, threw them back with a sip of water and set the glass down like a man who had never touched a drop of anything stronger in his life.
Nurse Sarah turned to me. "Oh, and Miss Sinclair. According to the recovery plan in your files, we'll need to move into the next phase of resistance work shortly. I'll have everything ready for when Roman is up and about."
"That works," I managed to reply.
Nurse Sarah gave Roman one more approving look, straightened his plate unnecessarily and moved toward the door. She paused and slowly turned around.
"Is there anything else you need before I start the laundry?"
"I'm good, thank you." Roman's voice was still warm and pleasant, completely unrecognizable from the person I had been arguing with ten minutes ago. "Actually, I was just going to ask Miss Sinclair to step out. I need to shower."
Nurse Sarah nodded at me. "Miss Sinclair, we can wait in the kitchen while he gets ready."
"Sure," I said.
Roman turned to both of us with a look of total innocence. "Unless you'd both rather I just stripped here and saved us all some time?"
Nurse Sarah made a small disapproving sound and walked out.
I picked up my folder, placed it under my arm and turned to leave. At the door I stopped and looked back at Roman Foster, and I gave him the most thorough look of contempt I could put together right in that moment.
Roman Foster was already looking at me. And as I held his gaze, he raised one hand and made a dirty gesture with his middle finger.
I turned around and walked out before he could spot the blush on my cheeks.