As he walked up to the ER, sirens approached, and by the time he neared the door, he was blinded by red lights and had to jump out of the way as paramedics shouted about a GCS of twelve and a head lac and wheeled in a bloody man on a stretcher.
Daniel followed in the stretcher’s wake, stopping in the fluorescent-lit enclosure of the gray waiting room, where a chorus of coughs greeted him. One woman, who was hacking up a lung by the sounds of it, jiggled a wailing baby on her knee. A drunk-sounding man spoke too loudly, evidently to himself, the chairs next to him empty despite the mass of people in the small space, some leaning against walls.
Disinfectant seared Daniel’s nostrils, but not enough to cover the stench of—yep, horribly pink vomit being mopped up in the corner. Sad little red and green Christmas decorations hung from the reception desk; one end of the garland trailed onto the floor. A brown-edged poinsettia sat in front of the clerk’s computer.
Daniel didn’t want to touch anything.
A middle-aged woman with a brunette dye job that showed an inch of gray at the roots glanced up as he reluctantly approached the desk. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’m here to see Cole Smith? Nicholas, I mean. He was apparently brought in by ambulance this afternoon.”
She tapped her keyboard. “You’re family?”
To avoid red tape, he nodded and told a big, fat lie. “He’s my brother.” Working in HR, he knew just how long it could take to deal with privacy regulations.
“He’s in curtain seven.”
Daniel exhaled. “Does that mean he’s okay? Since he’s not in the operating room or whatever?”
“Uh-huh. He’s just fine.” She read from the screen. “Broken hand. Mild concussion. He’ll be ready for discharge.”
Thank Christ. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. Go through the double doors to the right.”
Another child’s wail joined the baby’s. Daniel shuddered. “Is it always like this?”
The woman smirked. “Only on a full moon. Fa-la-la-la-la.”
Daniel gave her a smile and followed her instructions, pushing through the doors and into the ER itself, where another reception desk sat. The doors shut behind him with a whoosh, mercifully dulling the cacophony. A young woman looked up, and Daniel asked, “Curtain seven?”
“Take your first left and look up for the numbers.”
In the long, narrow room, machines beeped and someone moaned behind their curtain, but it was mostly still. He felt like he suddenly had to tiptoe, his leather loafers silent on the linoleum anyway. Some curtains were drawn, while others were open, revealing patients on stretchers.
Electrodes dotted the sunken chest of one older man. A silver-haired woman who was likely his wife sat in a plastic chair beside him, gripping his hand. She glanced up as Daniel passed, and he gave her what he hoped was a sympathetic smile. She returned it, then looked back to the man, who snored lightly.
Curtain seven was drawn, and Daniel stood there for a few moments. There was nothing to knock on, so finally he cleared his throat and said, “Uh…Cole? Are you in there?”
Chapter Two
Holy. Shit. Daniel?!?
Cole would know that baritone anywhere. It had fueled his teenage fantasies, and even now fire sparked in his veins, his tummy fluttering. Daniel Diaz was a few feet away, only a pale blue curtain separating them. What the hell was he doing at the hospital? How did he know—
Of course. Claudia had messaged Cole on Facebook in the summer when he was registering at school.
Congrats on the master’s program! How exciting! Did you know Daniel’s been in Ottawa for some years now? Do you have his number? I’ll give it to you. You’ll need someone local just in case, but you should call him regardless! I’m sure he’d love to hear from you!
Cole had been positive it was the last thing Daniel would want considering Daniel had never had time for him when they’d lived in the same house and shared a bathroom. Still, he’d put down Daniel’s name and number on the school form as emergency contact—a silly little thing that had made him smile. He’d never expected for a moment said emergency would actually happen.
“Hello? Cole?”
Shit. “Uh, yeah?” His voice squeaked on the question, and he cringed, trying to straighten his hair with his right hand, which wasn’t enclosed in a cast like his left. He was certain his hair was sticking up at the back of his head, but at least he’d had a trim last week. He sat up a little straighter, the top of the stretcher raised at an angle. “Come in.”
The curtain drew back on its rounded track, and holy shit there was Daniel. Cole’s throat went dry, and he blinked at the vision of hotness before him. He’d seen pics on Claudia’s Facebook, but live in person was a whole new level.
Six-one. Dark, shiny curls kept short at the sides and back, a little longer on top. Full lips the color of a blush, and his skin a warm brown—almost golden. He was dressed impeccably, a gray scarf around his throat and a long, black coat that hugged his lean hips.
Does he have more chest hair now than he did when he was eighteen?
Daniel frowned. “Cole? It’s Daniel Diaz. Do you remember me?”
“Yes!” He winced and lowered his voice. “Sorry. I’m a little out of it. They gave me something for pain. Um, hi. It’s great to see you again.”
“Yeah. It’s been a long time. Look, the school called me. Something about me being your emergency contact.”
Cole’s gut clenched, and he tasted bile. Shit. Why had he put down Daniel’s name? So stupid!
Yet Daniel only said, “I was worried, but clearly you’re okay. Right?”
“Totally. They insisted on calling the ambulance. Shit, I’m sorry they bothered you.” Daniel must have been pissed.
His closed-mouth smile was tight. “No, it’s fine. As long as you’re okay. That’s what matters.”
Cole blinked. Daniel had pretty much hated him when their parents had been married, but he was being kind of nice now. Granted, it’d been almost a decade. Cole still braced himself, waiting for a sneer. Or worse, to be dismissed altogether.
Nurses passed by with another stretcher, this one holding a drowsy-looking older woman. Daniel stepped closer to let them by, coming in beside Cole now. His eyes were still a hazely-chocolate brown that made Cole think of Ferrero Rocher.
Daniel’s dark brows drew together. “Dude, are you sure you’re okay? You seem really out of it.”
“Oh no, I’m fine!” His head throbbed, but he nodded. “It was stupid. I fell up the stairs. I mean, who falls up the stairs? Not even down.”
A smile tugged at Daniel’s full lips, hinting at the gleam of straight, white teeth. “You always were a klutz, if I recall correctly.”
That he remembered anything about Cole made him giddy. Cole laughed too loudly. “Yeah. That’s me.”
Daniel nodded to the cast. “You broke your hand? At least it’s not the right one, huh?”
“Yeah! Well, actually, I’m left-handed.”
“Oh. Shit.” Daniel shifted from foot to foot. “So you don’t have any friends here?”
“I made a few at school, but they’ve gone home for the holidays. And doing a master’s isn’t like undergrad. A lot of people work part-time. We’re all busy, not getting together for keggers every weekend. Everyone already has their own lives.” Except for me. “You know what I mean?”
“Right. Fair enough.”
“Yeah.” Cole cringed internally. Think of something smart to say!
“No girlfriend, I assume?”
“Why would you assume that?” It was stupid to be offended, but the defensiveness reared up anyway.
Daniel frowned, which seemed to be his default expression, his thick, sculpted brows drawn together. “Because if you had a girlfriend she’d be here?”
“Oh. That makes sense.” Now Cole just felt like an idiot. “I haven’t had a girlfriend since senior year of high school.” He took a deep breath, butterflies flapping in his
stomach even though there was nothing to be nervous about. “I came out in university. I’m gay too.”
Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! I didn’t realize. Cool. Guess there’s no boyfriend either.”
“Uh-uh.” Cole’s cheeks went hot. Daniel must have thought he was so lame. “I was sorry to hear when you and Trevor broke up. Guess that was a while ago now.”
Jaw tight, Daniel pulled out his phone, and said in a clipped voice, “Six years. Forever ago.”
“Still, I’m—”
“Where’s your dad these days, anyway?”
Okay, Trevor was off-limits. Good to know, although he desperately wanted to know what had gone wrong. They’d seemed so perfect together. Cole answered, “He still lives in Toronto in that same house, but right now he’s on an African safari with my stepmom.”
“Ah.” Daniel smirked. “Which number wife is this?”
“Four.” Cole shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Yeah, I hear you. My mom’s still a serial monogamist too. At least she didn’t marry the last few losers. How about your mom? If they were just going to call you Cole, why did they name you Nicholas, anyway?”
“I’m not sure. I’d ask her, but she’s dead.”
Daniel froze, his eyes going wide. “Shit. I guess I forgot.”
“It was six years ago. Car accident.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. That really sucks.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Cole could think of her now and not cry, which was a vast improvement from the earlier years. Still, he didn’t want to dwell, so he asked, “Is your dad still in Spain?”
“Yep. No plans to come back to Canada. He’s got a whole new family there, so. You know.” Daniel shrugged tightly. “Let me text my mom and tell her you’re okay. She was super worried when I told her you were in the hospital.”
A rush of warm affection filled Cole. “I’m so sorry to bother her. Claudia’s always been wonderful to me. She’s stayed in touch. Facebook and stuff.” His belly swooped. “Actually, I sent you a friend request when I moved to Ottawa.”
“Oh, did you?” Not looking up, Daniel tapped his phone. “I haven’t been on Facebook in months. No time.”
“Right. I hear you. It’s a good way to stay in touch with people from high school and stuff, though.”
Daniel glanced up. “Since I have zero desire to talk to anyone from high school, I’m good.”
Right. Likely Trevor-related as well. Daniel and Trevor had been co-captains of the hockey team and out as a couple in senior year, which had blown Cole’s little mind at the time. They’d been so fearless and had gone off to Western together for university as a total power couple. Cole was dying to know what had gone wrong.
Obviously he didn’t ask, instead saying, “I’m sorry to bother you with all this. I’m sure you have much better things to be doing on the Friday before the holidays.”
Daniel frowned at his phone as his thumbs flew. “Yeah, I’m driving up to Tremblant to meet my…kind-of boyfriend or whatever. We’re staying in a chalet for the week.”
“Oh. Sounds amazing.” Whoever this “kind-of boyfriend or whatever” was, Cole immediately loathed him simply for existing. Which of course was entirely unfair and immature, but he could accept his shortcomings. “It was really cool of you to come check on me. It’s good to see you.”
Slipping his phone in his coat pocket, Daniel said, “What? Oh, yeah. Definitely. It’s been a long time.” His hazelnut gaze ran over Cole. “You’re all grown up.”
“Still short, but what can you do?” He forced a laugh. Oh God, shoot me now.
Before Daniel could reply and prolong their awkward reunion, the young doctor bustled by and skidded to a halt. “Oh good, someone came after all.” She eyed Daniel and said, “I’m Dr. Hanratty. Are you taking Mr. Smith home? Did the nurse go over the concussion protocols with you?”
Cole said, “I’m sure I’ll be okay. My head barely hurts. I’ll be fine on my own.” He sat all the way up, and as if to prove him a liar, the throbbing intensified and a wave of nausea had him salivating.
Dr. Hanratty shook her head, her red ponytail flying. “No, Mr. Smith. You cannot go home alone. I think it’s a very mild concussion, but you did bang your head on concrete. Brain bleeds can be sneaky things and can quickly become a life or death matter. You must be observed for twenty-four hours to make sure your symptoms don’t worsen. I won’t discharge you without someone to care for you.”
The idea of being cared for—by Daniel Diaz, no less—sent a pang of yearning echoing through him, but Cole said, “I’ve already been too much of a pain in the ass. Daniel, don’t worry about it. Go to Tremblant. Have an amazing time.” Cole had already resigned himself to spending Christmas alone poking at his thesis and marathoning a few Netflix shows. He’d be just fine.
Daniel looked between Cole and Dr. Hanratty, clearly torn. “You don’t have anyone else here in Ottawa who can help?” At Cole’s shake of his head, Daniel’s shoulders sagged. “It’s cool. I’ll look after you.”
Cole’s heart leapt even as he insisted, “Seriously, I’ll be—”
“Taken good care of,” Dr. Hanratty said in a tone not allowing for argument. “You have a broken hand and a concussion. It’s going to be a struggle just to feed yourself. We don’t realize how much we use our hands until one is essentially tied behind our backs. Let your friend help.”
To Daniel, she added, “You’ll need to wake him every two to three hours tonight. Ask him simple questions: his name, the date, who’s prime minister. Look for any changes, such as slurring, confusion, increased dizziness. He can take acetaminophen, but no ibuprofen, aspirin, or any NSAIDs. Lots of fluids to stay hydrated, and nothing too heavy to eat for a day or two. He’ll likely experience some nausea tonight. He should be just fine, but you need to keep an eye on him. Got it?”
Daniel nodded. “Got it.”
“But…he has other things to do!” Over the years, Cole had daydreamed about becoming friends with Daniel. Or maybe more—which was beyond ludicrous, a fantasy he should have outgrown. Still, being a massive burden was not going to make a great first impression. Well, second. Whatever.
Dr. Hanratty gave Cole’s leg a pat, ignoring his protestation. “You don’t need to stay in bed, but no heavy exercise. Relax and take it easy. No alcohol until your concussion symptoms have cleared. Christmas Eve isn’t until when, Wednesday? You should be good to indulge by then.”
She leaned down and examined his cast, which was wrapped in alarmingly bright orange medical tape. His thumb was free, but the cast extended from under his elbow to just below his fingertips. “Looks good. Glad the fracture clinic technician was still here. Hours will be cut during the holidays, so they’re working late.”
Cole grimaced at the orange tape. “And hey, I can pick up extra work waving in planes on the runway.”
She laughed. “Ask the nurse for a package of cast protectors for showering. They’re shoulder-length gloves vets use to stick their hands inside cows. Take care!” With that, she disappeared around the next curtain.
Daniel was busy frowning at his phone again, and Cole didn’t want to interrupt him. Soon after an attendant came with some paperwork, Cole was discharged. At least he didn’t have to worry about paying for treatment. Now that he was an adult, he didn’t take universal health care for granted anymore.
He cleared his throat. “Um, is everything okay?”
“Hmm?” Daniel glanced up. “Yes. Sorry—had to deal with a work thing. And—hold on.” He put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mom. Yes, like I said, he’s totally fine.” After a moment, he added, “Just a sec,” and passed the phone to Cole.
He took it awkwardly with his right hand. “Hey, Claudia.”
“Oh, you poor thing. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, really. It’s great to hear your voice. The pictures of the resort on Facebook looked amazing. Are you having fun?”
“Having a blast, and it’s wonderful to talk to you. D
aniel’s going to take good care of you.”
Whether he likes it or not. “He’s been great. I’m so grateful. I’d better let you go. Have fun and don’t worry about me.” He passed the phone back to Daniel, who listened again and uttered a few terse agreements.
When Daniel ended the call, he sighed. “All right. Guess we’d better get out of here. They’ll need the bed for someone else judging by the shitshow in the waiting room.”
Cole swung his legs around. He was totally fine. Then he stood. “Whoa.”
In a blink, Daniel had hold of Cole’s shoulders, his hands warm and strong, keeping him steady. “Careful.”
Cole tried to smile. “Guess I am a little dizzy.”
“Where’s your coat? You can’t go out in just a T-shirt.” Daniel peered around the small area, keeping one hand on Cole as he reached for a plastic hospital bag. He held out the blue hoodie first, and Cole stuck his good arm through the sleeve.
Daniel’s fingers brushed the nape of Cole’s neck as he pulled the cotton over his left shoulder. A shiver ran down Cole’s spine, and he held his breath as Daniel repeated the action with Cole’s navy peacoat. He got his hand stuck in the ripped lining before putting his arm in the sleeve.
“Thanks,” Cole said, his throat stupidly dry. Up close, Daniel smelled like woody, spicy tobacco, but not in a bad way. In fact, in a way that went straight to Cole’s dick. His head swam as he turned, and he wasn’t sure if it was the concussion or not.
Daniel Diaz is actually here. Touching me. I have got to be freaking dreaming.
Granted, the touch was a solicitous hand on his elbow like one he might give his grandmother, but Cole would take it. As they shuffled past the other curtains, Daniel paused by an elderly couple and asked the woman, “Can I get you anything before I go?”
She smiled, her blue eyes watery. “Oh, thank you, dear. But no, we’re all right.” She looked at Cole. “Is this your brother? Glad he’s on his way home.”
“Oh, he’s not—” Daniel stopped abruptly and then said, “Thank you. You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. Merry Christmas, boys.”
Gay Romance Holiday Collection Page 10
