7. Josie

7

JOSIE

T hankfully, the building manager ushered the onlookers away, but it still took another half hour or so to answer his questions as I sat on one of the foyer chairs with a blanket around my shoulders and a hot cup of coffee in my hands. I watched the maintenance crew as they propped the elevator doors open and got to work.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Miss Scott, but wasn't there someone else in the elevator with you?" the building manager asked. I stared into my coffee, knowing I didn't have the best poker face.

"Yeah, there was, but we kept to ourselves. I'm not even sure of his name," I lied. I felt bad, but I wanted to keep my promise to Wyatt. Sure, I didn't know if I'd ever see him again, yet I wanted him to know that he could trust me, that I wasn't going to cash in on my fifteen minutes of fame by selling him out. Besides, I didn't want to share the time we spent together with anyone. It already felt like a strange, yet wonderful, dream.

"Now are you sure we can't get you some medical attention?" the business manager asked, though I could tell by his tone that he asked because he had to. It seemed like I wasn't the only one that just wanted to get on with my day.

"Really, I'm fine. I just want to head up to my apartment and take a shower."

The manager nodded quickly. "Yes, of course. By all means." He stepped aside and I got to my feet, holding out the blanket and cup.

"If there's anything you need, please call down. And again, I'm profusely sorry for what happened."

"Thank you," I replied with a tired smile.

If only he knew how much I enjoyed my evening with Wyatt.

There was no way I was tempting fate by getting in another elevator, and so despite my fatigue, I headed up the stairs. By the fourth flight of stairs, I began regretting my decision. There were still four flights to go, and I was exhausted. My back hurt from laying on the floor of the elevator all night, and I longed to take a hot shower and crawl into my soft bed.

Thank God it's Saturday and I don't have to work.

Finally, I stood in front of my apartment, unlocking my front door. I slipped inside and closed it behind me with a sigh.

Home sweet home. Finally.

I dropped my camera and handbag on my counter and dragged my feet to my bedroom. Kicking my shoes off in the corner I went over and plugged my dead phone onto the charger, eyeing my bed from the corner of my eye. As much as I wanted to sleep, I needed a shower more.

In the bathroom paused as I took in my appearance. I looked a total mess, and I groaned aloud at what Wyatt had witnessed.

Good luck ever seeing him again!

Though, there was a silver lining to the situation as I ran my fingers along the edge of Wyatt's jersey. With everything going on, I'd forgotten I was wearing it. I guess it didn't seem odd that out of the ordinary given there was a game last night. Pulling it over my head, I realized I'd have to return it at some stage, and the thought of seeing Wyatt again made my heart flutter. Don't get me wrong–I knew nothing would ever happen between us. I mean, look at the guy. Women literally threw themselves at him. At least I could see him one last time before we went our separate ways.

Right?

Stepping into the shower, the warm water felt heavenly after the past 24-hours. Yet as I let the water cascade over me, all I could think about was Wyatt Boone.

That smile.

His voice.

Those eyes.

He was so unexpected. I felt sympathy towards him after the way he'd talked about hockey. It was clear the game meant everything to him and his injury continued to haunt him. Over the months there had been talk among hockey fans about Wyatt's return to the game after his injury—and how he wasn't at his best.

I knew this but hadn't considered the effects it had on Wyatt himself, and hearing the anger, hopelessness and frustration in his voice saddened me. While I knew what it's like to sustain an injury doing what you love, it was nowhere the same level as Wyatt. Yet, he didn't strike me as the type to give up easily. I knew he'd bounce back.

Looking down at my pruney fingers, I realized Wyatt had consumed my thoughts far longer than I thought. I knew if I stood there any longer thinking about him, I would end up doing something I shouldn't. So, instead, I turned off the shower and stepped out into the steaming bathroom, wrapping a towel around me.

Padding barefoot back into my bedroom I was about to head to my dresser when my phone started ringing. I smiled at the familiar ringtone, knowing who it was without having to check the screen. Clicking the speaker button, I continued getting dressed as I answered.

"Hello?"

"I've been trying to call you since last night! Where've you been, woman?" The voice of my best friend, Tasha Davis, echoed loudly around my room.

"Sorry it's been a…weird morning," I replied, rummaging through my drawers for something to wear.

"Oh! Did someone have a fun night?" I didn't have to see her to know she was wiggling her eyebrows at me. "Please tell me there's a hot, tall, half-naked man in your kitchen right now, making breakfast."

"He's actually fully naked."

"Josie Scott, you little ho."

I couldn't help but laugh as I pulled on an old, oversized shirt, the fabric falling to my knees.

"You have no idea! We actually just finished having wild sex in the shower."

"You're such a little liar!" Tasha yelled, but I could hear the amusement in her voice, and laughed aloud. No one knew me better than Tasha, and she knew the chances of there being a naked man in my apartment was next to zero.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," I said, pulling on a pair of leggings.

"I'm just sorry it's not true. That would have made our weekly Saturday gossip session fun."

Tasha and I met in freshman year as roommates at uni, and ever since we've had a weekly ritual. Every Saturday morning, no matter what, we'd tell each other what's happened during the week. When we lived together, we used to sit at the table with coffee. Now that we live apart, we either meet up at a coffee shop or talk on the phone.

"So sorry to disappoint." I could practically hear her shaking her head at me. "Give me a sec!" I yelled as I went into the bathroom and hung up my wet towel. "So, how's Florida?" I asked, flopping down on my bed.

"It's okay. I'm so ready to come home this week, though." Tasha had spent the past two weeks at her parents' vacation home in Florida, and despite her eagerness to come home, it was a much-needed weekend after the last few months she'd had.

"It feels like you've been gone for ages," I sighed. Being without your best friend for a few weeks might as well be a lifetime. Especially for Tasha and me. If we weren't at work, we were hanging out together, along with my boss and other friend Lydia.

"The sun's nice here though. I've got a great tan," she said.

"Oh yeah, not missing the cold?"

"God no. You should've come with me. Every blonde needs her brunette best friend by her side."

"Next time, I promise," I said, lying back against my pillows and moving the phone closer. "Tell me more about Florida." Usually, I would jump at the chance to tell Tasha as soon as something happened, yet I found myself keeping the elevator incident to myself. I just wanted to keep it between Wyatt and I, for now at least. Though I knew Tasha would be pissed at me when she discovered I'd kept it from her.

"You won't believe it, but I saw a dolphin yesterday," Tasha said, and I smiled, absently closing my eyes as I listened to her. Without meaning to, I slowly drifted off to sleep, the face of Wyatt Boone filling my dreams.