by M. E. Carter
We both know this answer, too. And that the longer he waits, the worse it’ll be. But he needs to know he won’t be alone, no matter what.
“Just go get the blood draw,” I prod gently. “Let them look at your counts. If nothing else, do it so your girlfriend can relax. I’m tired of her getting on my case about not getting on your case.”
His eyes whip over to mine. “She does that?”
“Hell yeah. She’s on that field during practice now. She sees it.”
Jax rubs his face and sits up. “Shit, I didn’t even think about that.” He blows out a deep breath, like a decision has been made. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll go do it now while we’re still waiting. She needs peace of mind.”
We all need answers, but I don’t say that. If he wants to use Annika as a crutch so he has the strength to finally face this head-on, so be it.
“You’re doing the right thing.”
We push ourselves up to standing and Jaxon looks around until he finds what he’s looking for. “Looks like the lab is that direction.” He points to the posted sign. “I’ll go find it and get this done as quickly as possible.”
“Take your time. I’ve got my truck, so I can drive Lauren home. Do you need to call your doctor or something?”
“Yeah, I’ll call Dr. Gates on my way. All I need is for him to tell them what to test for. He’ll do it. And I’m sure my dad won’t mind me using my emergency credit card if the insurance doesn’t go through fast enough.”
I chuckle. “Knowing your dad, he’ll probably fight with insurance to be able to pay for it.”
Jaxon snorts a laugh and pulls his phone out. “Ain’t that the truth. I’m, uh… I’m gonna go before I lose my nerve.”
I nod in support and watch as he walks away. When he’s out of sight, I sink down into the chair and put my face in my hands. I’m glad he’s finally taking charge of the situation. It’s too important to let it slide any longer. But knowing we’re about to have answers is a bittersweet pill to swallow. And I’m not sure how any of us will make it through if the worst outcome becomes our reality.
SEVENTEEN
Lauren
I feel foggy. Like I’ve been on an all-night bender. I don’t have a headache or any nausea, but my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton.
Moving my head, I lick my lips, trying to rid myself of the feeling. No luck. I’m going to need some water and quickly.
As soon as I push up, I remember why it’s such a bad idea to move.
“Ahhh!” I cry out in pain and flop back down, which makes me bounce and cry out again.
Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I take slow breaths as I wait for the initial stabbing pain to ease. And that’s when it all comes back to me.
My leg. I broke my fucking leg. Tibia fracture, if I’m remembering correctly. Through the fog, I vaguely remember the words, “Out for four to six months, minimum.”
Fuck.
A warm hand brushes the hair out of my face and my eyes flutter open. Heath.
“Don’t move, baby,” he says gently. Baby. I like the sound of that.
Putting a straw up to my lips, he encourages me to drink. It’s just water, but I have no complaints. The cool liquid feels like a much-needed rainstorm in the desert my mouth has become overnight. I’m so parched I’m thinking in prose.
“Here. Eat this.” Heath puts the cup down and hands me a cracker.
I grimace at the idea of making my mouth dry again. “I’m not hungry. Just thirsty.” I try to push the food away but he’s insistent.
“I know, but it’s time to take another pain pill and I don’t want your stomach to get upset.”
It’s hard to object to his logic, considering how much it hurt to try and sit up a few seconds ago. Not to mention how gentle he’s being as he adjusts the blankets around my leg. He’s wearing what looks like pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. Was he sleeping here with me?
“What time is it, anyway?” I ask, as I slowly chew and swallow my cracker, motioning for another sip of water.
“A little after midnight.”
I feel my eyes widen. “Midnight? Holy shit. How long was I out?”
Heath chuckles and places a large pillow I’ve never seen before under my shoulders to prop me up a bit, then hands me the water. “Not that long, actually. But you were hopped up on morphine for a while. You finally crashed when we gave you a pain pill for the ride home.”
My chewing slows down as I think back through my foggy memories. Maybe it was me being hopeful they were dreams and not vague memories of acting like a fool. And declaring my feelings for Heath. And telling everyone he’s my fake boyfriend.
I groan and drop my head back. “Tell me I did not squeeze your biceps to prove to the nurse you were real?”
“Oh, you did.” He takes the cup from me, and now that I’m coherent and not in danger of spilling everywhere, cracks open a water bottle and hands it to me. “After you told everyone I’m your not-so-fake boyfriend anymore. Here. Take this before the pain comes back.”
I look at the huge horse pill he just handed me. “Is it going to knock me out, so I don’t have to think about what an idiot I was? Or… wait…” I stop with the pill halfway to my mouth, giving him the best stern look I have. “You didn’t take any videos, did you?”
For a split second, the look on his face has me convinced he did.
“Nah,” he finally answers, and I breathe a sigh of relief, swallowing my medication like a good little patient. “You were so busy manhandling me, I couldn’t get a hand free to hold the phone steady.”
I immediately begin choking on my water. Heath just laughs, the bastard.
“You’re such a jerk,” I say, as I get the last of the water out of my windpipe. “I could have choked on that pill.”
“But you didn’t, so just calm your little feisty self down.” He hands me another cracker, which I begin nibbling on as I rest, eyes closed, thinking over my new reality.
A lot of today, well, I guess yesterday at this point, seems so long ago. And other parts seem like they just happened. Getting to the hospital and the massive pain I experienced are right at the forefront of my mind. Holy shit, that was horrid. I never want to feel anything like that again. The whole thing just sucks.
The only silver lining I can think of is I don’t have to worry about breaking another bone for a while. I won’t be working on tumbling passes any time soon.
“He said four to six months of recovery time, didn’t he?” I ask, my eyes still closed.
“Minimum. You need to see an orthopedist first to do some more x-rays. Make sure nothing was missed during the first set.”
“Shit,” I grumble. “That hurt like a bitch. Can’t they just treat it using the first set of films?”
“Wish they could, babe.” Babe. There’s that term of endearment again. It may be the one good thing to come out of this shitty situation. “Sometimes the extent of the injuries don’t show up until a few days later. And since yours is a spiral fracture, they want to make extra sure.”
I sigh again. This just keeps getting better. Not only am I out for the first part of the season at the very minimum, but they also can’t even give me an estimate of when I can get back to practice. I am probably out for the entire season.
Frustrated, I try to keep my voice under control. Heath didn’t do this to me. I did it to myself. I pushed too hard. I got too cocky. And it bit me in the ass.
“Do I have an appointment yet?” I ask quietly, not meaning to whisper, but that’s what happens when the gravity of your situation hits out of nowhere, and you’re suddenly trying to keep yourself under control.
I hear Heath cross the room, the bed moving just slightly as he sits on the floor next to me. He grabs my hand with his and clasps them together. I know he’s trying to be supportive of me. If anyone understands how hard this is to accept, it’s him. And I’m grateful he’s here.
“The training department director put in a call to the orthope
dist we work with. His office will call tomorrow with your appointment information.”
I nod, my lip trembling and a lone tear sliding down my cheek, the feeling of disappointment too much to bear right now.
Heath wipes the wetness away with his thumb, the movement so gentle, so caring, I turn my head and look at him. It feels like he can read my mind, or at least my emotions, and he understands how major this is. To someone else, it’s a broken leg. An inconvenience. An annoyance to be worked around.
To me, it’s one of only two shots I had to reach my goal snuffed out faster than I could say “front salto.”
“It’s not over, Lauren.”
“It feels like it is.”
“I know it does. But I’ve already been doing research on different kinds of exercises we can do to keep up your strength and skills.” He reaches over and grabs his laptop off the floor, flipping it open to show me a document that looks suspiciously like a workout schedule. “Mostly it’s going to be upper body and core work until we’re given the go-ahead to add in some glutes. I’ll have to research a little more on what kind of exercises won’t put too much stress on the break. We may have to stick with scissor-type moves at first.”
The way his tone turns from informational to more monotone, I wonder if he’s still talking to me, or if he’s making mental notes for himself. Regardless, the amount of effort he’s put into researching a new workout schedule for me is intense. I’m stunned that he would do all this for me.
“This is amazing, Heath. Thank you. I bet Ellery can help me with some of these. Although I might have to see if Coach can spare someone to spot me.” A flash of disappointment crosses his face, which makes no sense. “What?”
He gives a small shrug and sheepishly says, “I was hoping to be the one to help you.”
I blink rapidly a few times, speechless at his offer. It’s one thing to help me home from the hospital. It’s another to hang out with me the first night and help put a plan together for the immediate future. But it’s an entirely different issue for him to be planning the next several weeks, if not months, of working out together. Especially since so much of that time would be dedicated to spotting me.
Finding my words, I do what comes naturally—I resist. “You don’t have time for that.”
“Sure, I do.”
“Heath, you have football practice and classes and…”
“And what?” When I don’t answer, he continues. “That’s all I have. I have to work out anyway. I might as well do it with my girlfriend.”
I quirk my lips at his joke. “Don’t you mean fake girlfriend?”
Heath clears his throat and shifts around, closing the laptop and placing it on the floor. “I guess you were a little less coherent in the ER than I thought.”
I know what he’s referring to, but I didn’t know he was sincere. “Wait… were you serious?” He just looks at me, giving me a small shrug. “I thought… I mean… weren’t you just pacifying me in my time of need and overly euphoric state?”
A grin crosses his face and he chuckles lightly. “Yeah, doped up Lauren is pretty fun.”
I try to shove him, but my angle on the bed doesn’t allow for much force. Not to mention the fact that he’s the size of a Mack truck compared to me.
Clearing his throat again, which I’m starting to realize is synonymous to him feeling nervous, Heath reaches his arm up on my bed and begins playing with my fingers. The feeling is not unwelcoming at all. It’s actually really soothing. The deliberateness also seems to emphasize the pending magnitude of this moment. “I know we started this whole relationship to get those assholes off your back and to help keep the groupies off me. Which incidentally, hasn’t worked that much.”
I giggle because I could have told him that from the beginning. He’s smart. He’s friendly. He’s hot. And he’s on his way to getting an NFL contract. Women may say they want a man to pursue them, but we’re not stupid either. Heath is a catch. Putting ourselves in his line of sight in the hopes that he notices isn’t the worst move.
“I’m glad you find it amusing,” he says with a smile. “Anyway, I guess the more we hung out and pretended to enjoy each other, the more I started to enjoy you.” He grimaces. “Shit. That sounded bad. I don’t mean it like that. I…” He runs his hand down his face in frustration. “I’m totally fucking this up.”
Grabbing his fingers, I stop his rant. “You enjoy being with me?” I whisper in disbelief.
He pauses only momentarily before nodding. “Well, yeah. You’re so motivated with your goals and willing to do whatever it takes. You understand where I’m coming from with my own ambitions and why I have to stay focused. And you’re the one person I know besides Jaxon who doesn’t pressure me to do my life any differently.”
I furrow my brow. “That can’t be true.”
“Well, not my family. They’re pretty good about letting me do my own thing. But they’re not here. People I interact with daily don’t seem to understand why I do and don’t do certain things. The guys on my team are always asking me to go out with them and encouraging me to get blitzed and chase tail. It sounds fun and all, but I just don’t have any interest in going down that road. Not anymore. Maybe after graduation, once I’m under contract I can let loose a little. But for now, I’m just three months away from the most important day in my life.” He looks up at me again, his eyes soft with emotion that I never expected to see directed at me. But it is. His words just confirm it. “I want to spend those months with you.”
I’m well and truly stunned. Heath Germaine, football god, and campus catch, just declared his feelings for me.
“I… um… I don’t know what to say. Are you sure?”
He gives me a shy smile, one that I haven’t seen before, and I can’t help but think about how intimate it is. It’s a side of him he doesn’t show people. But he’s showing… me.
“I may be a little overzealous,” he states playfully. “I don’t mean to sound like I’m planning out the few months of our lives, but if you’d be interested, I’d like to try dating. For real, I mean.”
“Um…” I gesture down to my injured leg. “That might be kind of hard considering I’m practically immobile right now. The only time we’d be able to spend together is when I’m sitting and you’re sitting with me. Or you could walk around, but obviously, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Which leaves studying and binge-watching Netflix. And that’s why I was talking about the workout schedule.”
I bite my bottom lip, still feeling a bit discombobulated from this turn of events. Or it could be the pain pill. Either way, this whole conversation is surreal.
“So basically, it’s doing the same things we’ve been doing, plus a few additional things like you taking care of me.”
He nods. “Exactly. Only this time it’s bona fide dating. Really getting to know each other. On purpose and not for show.”
“I just want to make sure you’re aware that I won’t be able to engage in any hanky panky for a while.” Looking down at my leg, I sigh. “Maybe a long while.”
Heath squeezes my hand, knowing my depressed mood is less about sex and more about everything else. “That works out well then. We have a long while to see what happens, to see where we go emotionally, so you never have to wonder what my true intentions are.”
Well, damn. That just may be the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.
Taking a deep breath, I try to clear my addled brain. “I think I’d like to try legitimately dating you. Seeing what happens.”
I didn’t know it was possible for Heath to smile any bigger. But as his lips stretch and he puffs out a breath that I know is either relief or happiness, I see it. It looks like pure joy. And I put it there. How did this even happen?
Suddenly, his expression changes to one that is more heated. His gaze drops to my mouth and I know what he’s thinking. Inside, I’m screaming, “Kiss me. Please kiss me!”, and everything in me hopes he takes advantage of this moment.<
br />
As if he can hear my thoughts, he licks his lips and begins leaning in. Being propped up, I can’t meet him in the middle, so I grab his hand tighter, hoping it encourages him to keep going.
Finally, after what feels like hours, we make contact. His lips are soft and smooth as they glide over mine. The tip of his tongue snakes out, requesting entrance. And I wholeheartedly comply.
Heath takes what I offer and tangles his tongue with mine, reaching his free hand up to cup my jaw and tilt my head exactly where he wants it. His kiss is both aggressive and reserved, making his desires clear without pushing too far, the sounds of our breathing the only thing I hear. It’s sweet and loving and sexy as hell.
When he finally pulls away, my brain feels like mush, my eyes fluttering as I try to keep them open.
Heath chuckles and kisses the tip of my nose. “I knew I was a decent kisser, but this may be the first time I’ve rendered a woman practically immobile.”
I smile, as I rest back onto my pillow. “Don’t get cocky. My verdict on your abilities isn’t in yet. We might have to try that a few more times….”
My voice trails off as the pain pill kicks in. I barely feel him pull the covers over me, but register when he kisses my forehead and says, “Go to sleep, Tiny.”
“Okay…” is all that comes out before I drift off, everything clearing of my mind except the feeling of a perfect first kiss.
EIGHTEEN
Heath
“What’s happening here?” the voice whispers.
“I have no idea. I’m as confused as you are,” a second voice says just as quietly.
“He said something at the hospital about honestly dating. I thought he was just placating little miss druggie.”
That must be Annika. For whatever reason, my brain is registering she was the only person I know who was in the hospital room during that conversation with Lauren. It makes sense that she would be both there and here. Although, my not-quite-awake brain can’t figure out who she’s talking to and about what.
