My heart raced as I watched Kansas's strongest linebacker rush in close behind him. Tristan was almost home free, until he wasn't.
I shot to my feet as Tristan was tackled from behind. The impact of the hit was so hard his helmet rolled across the turf. Angered students yelled all around me. I expected Tristan to move, get up, but instead he remained still. Too still. The coaches and trainers ran onto the football field, circling Tristan's dead-like body.
No, not dead. Maybe he'd gotten his breath knocked out of him. In the distance, I heard someone calling my name, but the voice sounded too far away. The field became blurry, distorted. I couldn't see. Breathe, Elle, just breathe. Only I couldn't. In slow motion I watched four EMTs lift Tristan onto a gurney and then into the back of the ambulance.
“Elle."
I turned to find Eric watching me.
"Let's go to the hospital," he said, holding me. He was shaking. Why was he shaking?
"Elle, everything will be okay." I looked up at Eric, silent as I tried to make sense of what had happened. "Did you hear me?" Eric's arms still shook.
I managed to nod and then followed him down the stands. The cold wind whipped around me, cooling my overheated skin. Eric led me to his car and my phone buzzed. I tried to open my purse, but my hands refused to cooperate.
Damn. Eric wasn’t the one shaking, after all. I closed my eyes, letting the call go to voicemail. I needed to calm down. Everything felt numb, the city only a blur as we drove by.
God, why wasn't Eric driving faster? I wanted to yell for him to hurry up, but my tongue felt thick in my mouth. What seemed like a lifetime had only been minutes before we parked under the awning at Covenant hospital.
"Elle," Eric said, grasping my shoulder.
"I'll wait for you inside." I hurried out the door, not waiting for his reply.
I gazed around the busy ER until I found the information desk. An older woman with silver-grey hair sat behind the desk, smiling as I walked up to her.
"Hi, sweetie. How can I help you today?" The lady's scratchy and hoarse voice made me wonder if she'd been a smoker. I opened my mouth to ask what room Tristan was in when I heard a familiar voice behind me, and I turned.
Mrs. Daniels stood with a terrified expression next to Tristan's dad. She looked up and noticed me. I gave her a small smile, holding back my own tears as she walked over to me.
"Elle, honey, how are you doing?" Mrs. Daniels had always been more pleasant than her husband.
"I've been okay. Thank you for asking." I noticed Mr. Daniels had turned his attention to a doctor.
"I hope Tristan is okay," she whispered. I wasn't sure if she'd said it for her or my benefit, though I felt the same.
"I'm sure he'll be fine."
Mrs. Daniels looked up, meeting my eyes with tears.
"Thank you for being here, Elle. I know Tristan would appreciate your support."
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," I said and noticed Eric had joined me. Mrs. Daniels smiled, before turning to walk toward her husband. As much as I wanted to know more of Tristan's condition, I'd wait.
"Elle." The look of understanding on his face hurt me. He knew.
"Eric, I'm…" What did I say? "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just…" My words were broken, though I cleared my throat. I had to give him what he deserved. "Eric, I never meant to hurt you, and I did want our relationship to work."
Eric turned his face, his blue eyes glazed over.
"I get it, Elle." He turned back to face me. "I knew it was a long shot. Us. I knew when Tristan traded dates that I'd lost you."
"I'm so sorry." Eric pulled me against his chest and held me tight. I didn't allow myself to drift. Right then, I stayed with Eric.
"I've got to get going. Let Tristan know I hope he's all right." Eric squeezed me tighter before releasing his hold.
"I will. Thank you."
He nodded then turned and left the ER.
Chapter 29
Tristan
Blurred colors and shapes distorted my vision. Voices in the distance echoed, nearly unrecognizable…except for one. Elle. She didn't sound right. I struggled to concentrate, but the buzzing inside my head grew louder. Pain seized me. Darkness pulled me under.
* * *
An irritating, steady beep next to my head woke me. I opened my eyes, squinting against the greenish tinted lights in the room. I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. Several flower arrangements sat around the room. I turned my head to the right and found my mom sleeping in a brown recliner. I didn't see my dad, but heard his deep voice behind the closed door.
I attempted to get up, but a sudden, sharp pain sliced through my head and shoulder, holding me in place.
“Son of a bitch," I cursed. The machine next to my bed started beeping like crazy and a woman ran in. I looked down at right my arm, noticing it was wrapped and secured in a sling. I glanced at my mom sleeping, worrying. She shifted in the chair, but her eyes stayed closed.
"Mr. Daniels. You're awake." The tall, slender lady with dark hair smiled.
"I think I'd prefer not to be right now."
She walked closer, and very carefully, inspected my injured arm.
"Do you know where you're at?"
"Hospital." I closed my eyes to drown out the lingering pain. I remembered the game, being tackled, but not much else. Wait, I remembered Elle, hearing the sound of her voice, but that could've been a dream.
I opened my eyes and found the lady had moved next to the machine by my bed. She pressed a few buttons before turning around to face me.
The pain had settled, and I used my good arm to try to reposition myself in the bed. The slight movement sent another wave of agony down my shoulder and throbbing in my head.
"Do you want some help sitting up?"
"I'm not sure if I want to anymore." The thought of moving again made me grimace.
"Let me help you. By the way, my name is Dori. Dr. Castillo will be by to check on you in just a bit."
I gave a curt nod, and Dori looped her arms under mine, and with super weird muscular arms, helped me to reposition myself. The pain held, but not as bad with help. I waited a minute before getting information about my injuries.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"You were knocked out during the game yesterday. You have a broken right clavicle and a mild concussion. You got lucky. "
Explained the sling and pain.
"Lucky, yeah," I said, trying to laugh but stopped when the pain in my head increased. "Do you think I could get something for my head? It hurts like a b–" Nurse Dori cocked her brow. "I mean my head is killing me."
"I'll see what I can do." She fluffed my pillow behind my head. “Be back in a bit."
My dad walked in not long after. "Son, you're up."
"Yeah, but I'm rethinking that."
"The doctor has assured us you'd be back on the field in a few weeks." He glanced my way then got back to texting. Of course, he couldn't say, I'm glad you're not dead or paralyzed, son. My dad was a straight to the point kind of guy, but admittedly, knowing I'd be back on the field in a few weeks made me feel somewhat better. I'd been knocked around plenty in high school, but never had the pleasure of any broken bones or concussions, so being in the hospital made me anxious.
"Good news," I said, filling the silence.
"You should've seen that linebacker coming. I've talked with your coaches, and they said you've been distracted."
A fucking lecture. Perfect.
"Tell me this mess isn't because of that girl you were foolishly engaged to?" My dad's blatant inability to remember his accomplice’s name amazed me.
"It's nothing," I said through gritted teeth.
"I couldn't help but notice you're still hanging around the Richards girl."
Hot, seething anger made my pulse jump.
"Tristan, you're up," my mom said, and just in time.
"Yeah. I wished you hadn't slept in that chair, Mom. It doesn't l
ook comfortable."
"You worry about getting better, and I'll worry about my sleeping arrangements."
The door opened. "Knock, knock." Elle poked her head in and smiled.
"Hey, Spud. Come in." She started to walk in, but stopped from the heated glare my dad gave her.
"No flowers?" I bowed my head. "I'm wounded."
Easing into a smile, she walked over to the bed. She held two cups of coffee. I loved this girl.
"I made it just the way you like it, black." She handed me my lifeline. The bitter smell eased the foul mood my dad had successfully put me in.
"I'm not sure if you're allowed to drink anything, Tristan. Perhaps Elle should mind her own business."
“Dad." I sat up quick, barely being able to hide the pain that lanced through me.
My mom stood. "Wade, that's enough."
"I'm sorry, Tristan. I didn't think about you not being able to drink anything." The hurt and humiliation in Elle's eyes had me forgetting my pain. I jerked the covers back, ready to make my dad apologize.
"Tristan," both my mom and Elle said, rushing toward me.
"Looks like our patient is feeling better." All eyes turned to the doctor standing in the doorway.
"Not too bad," I said, attempting to keep my pain under control.
"I'm Dr. Castillo. Oh, you can drink your coffee." That shut my dad up.
"Thanks," I said, carefully scooting back into my bed.
"Considering the blow you took yesterday, I'm surprised your injuries aren't worse. You did snap your collarbone in half, but got lucky by suffering only a mild concussion. Still, I expect you to take it easy." My dad grumbled, but the doctor continued. "We ran a few tests yesterday when you were brought in, but I'd like to run another CT scan in three or four weeks. Other than that, as soon as I finish my exam you'll be free to go home."
"Even better." I couldn't wait to get the hell out of here.
"If your guests wouldn't mind waiting in the hall." The doc turned to my mom and Elle. "The exam will only take a few minutes." He turned toward me. "Unless you'd like your wife to stay?"
I smiled, couldn't help it. Wife. I could get used to hearing that, but my dad quickly corrected the good doctor.
"She is not my son's wife."
I looked at Elle, and as expected, her cheeks were completely red. I winked, and she glared back.
"Oh, I guess I'd assumed. My apologies."
"No worries. Let's get this checkup started." The closer I got to getting out of there the better I felt. My parents and Elle left and the doctor closed the door and then headed back to my bed.
"How are you feeling?"
"I have a bad headache that seems to be worse when I move, but my shoulder doesn't hurt…too much."
"I'll give you a written prescription to take that'll help for the pain. However, no alcohol while taking them, and driving is out. You should also refrain from any sexual activity for the next few weeks." He did well to keep his expression apathetic. I'd refrained from sexual activity longer than I'd liked by this point, so a few more weeks shouldn't be too hard.
"Noted," I said, which led to a raised brow from Dr. Kill-joy.
“All right, let's have you stand up, then." The doc came around to help me to stand. Once I was steady on my feet, he released my arm. Thank goodness, my vision didn't waver. The sharp banging in my head stayed, but not as rough as I'd expected.
"How's your vision?"
"Good. I can see fine, nothing's doubled or blurry."
"All right, let's see you walk heel to toe." I did as instructed and all went well.
"Good, now grab my hand and squeeze as hard as you can with your left." I did and was pleased to find my strength caused him to grimace.
"You're pretty strong." He released my hands, wiggling his fingers. "Now, look straight ahead and follow the light with your eyes." The doc clicked on his small pen light, and I followed the light’s path up, then down, then side to side.
"Looks pretty good. I'm pleased to say, your neuro check is good. You can get dressed in the bathroom. I'll leave that written prescription on your bedside table while you change."
"Thanks, Doc," I said, heading to the bathroom.
"You played well, Mr. Daniels." I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. "I'm a big fan, used to play a little Tech ball back in my day." He had that dreamy smile and faraway look in his eyes I understood well.
"Thanks." He gave me a short nod, and I headed into the bathroom to change.
Elle
I hadn't expected Tristan to be released from the hospital so soon. In fact, I wanted a second opinion. With a big gulp and swallowing my fears, I decided to voice my concern to his mom.
"Mrs. Daniel's, do you think Tristan is really okay to leave? I mean, considering how hard he was hit and that he was passed out for so long? Do you think he should get a second opinion?" I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. She gave me an amused look and then patted my arm.
"Elle, dear, I understand how worried you are. Actually, your concern makes me feel better knowing my son will be left in good hands when I'm not here."
All I could do was gape at her, words sticking to the back of my throat.
Tristan's dad cleared his throat from behind us. We turned to see Tristan being wheeled out of his room.
"Tristan." His mom went to his side. "Ready to get home?"
He nodded, and I stepped back to give them room. I'd planned to stay out of his way, but he insisted differently.
"Spud, you ready to drive me home?"
His mom and I both on the same page, gasped. I looked from him to his mom. "Um, I don't think that's a good idea, Tristan."
"What's not a good idea is leaving my car here. You can leave yours here and I'll have Bret drive it back to your house."
"How do you know your car's here?"
"I called Bret in the room before I came out. He said he'd pull her up front."
"I don't think that's a good idea. Your mom and I will drive you home." Of course Mr. Daniels didn't concede to the idea of him riding with me, but Mrs. Daniels put an end to his tirade.
"It's fine, Wade."
"Good, let's go," Tristan said.
I tried to convince Tristan we should take my car instead of taking his, but he refused to listen. He knew I sucked at driving a stick. As a matter of fact, he forbid me to ever drive her after my first attempted disaster back in high school. All this led me to believe he did need close supervision, but he wouldn't listen as we rode the elevator to the main doors of the hospital. Stubborn ass.
As of late, I hadn't been driving my own car. Eric usually picked me up, but those days were behind me now. I was okay that we'd ended things between us. My heart ached from the hurt in Eric's eyes when he realized we were over, but at least now we could move on.
The same sudden fear trickled back into my thoughts. As much as I wanted to let go and take that final leap with Tristan, my fear kept me silent. A few more days wouldn't change anything. Besides, Tristan didn't need added stress in his life at the moment.
Tristan's parents said their goodbyes after helping him into his car. When his door closed, I tucked my worries away.
"So, are you going back home for Thanksgiving?" I pulled away from the hospital successfully, waiting for his answer.
"Nah, I think I'm gonna stick around here. When do you and Eric come back?"
I pulled my lip between my teeth. Was he a freaking mindreader? My heart rate escalated, though I did my best to remain impassive. Right now wasn't the time or place to bring up the possibility of us being together. I did what I do best–stalled.
"I told Eric I wasn't going after you were hurt." I hadn't completely lied, though I could feel the pressure of his questioning eyes from my peripheral. I focused my attention on the road, refusing to look his way.
"I see. Do you want to stick around and help me out? I could use a good nurse." After successfully shifting into fourth gear, I chanced a look. Tristan's wicked grin heate
d my cheeks, and my heart danced for a different reason. The thought of helping Tristan undress or shower became a full-on fantasy that was sure to cause me to wreck his precious car if I didn't control myself.
"I'd have to check my calendar, but I think I could fit you in," I said, turning my attention back to the road.
"Thanks," he said with a smile in his voice.
Twenty minutes later, I parked Tristan's car in his driveway. His parents would be here any minute, and I wanted to keep busy and out of sight until they left.
"I'll go open the door first. Stay where you are."
"Bossy…you have no idea how much I like this side of you."
I rolled my eyes, refusing to respond.
When I'd unlocked the door and turned back to the car, I found Tristan working to get out. He swayed, and I rushed over and wrapped my arms around his waist to steady him.
"I told you not to move." I looked up–and stopped breathing. His face leaned in super close, his eyes sparkling with mischief in the sunlight.
"I'm feeling much better now," he said with a crooked grin. Like gravity, my eyes were pulled to his lips. I couldn't help myself, and licked my lips to keep from leaning forward.
"Lick your lips again and I won't be responsible for my actions."
My eyes snapped up. He wasn't smiling anymore. The look in his eyes changed from teasing to stormy, causing my stomach to tighten and my legs to weaken all at the same time. At this rate, we'd both be on the ground.
A car honked turning into the driveway, pulling me back to reality. Breaking the moment, I stood straight and moved to Tristan's side. His parents parked their car and his mom jumped out to help me walk her son inside the house.
"Thanks, Mom," Tristan said, smiling, though I could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead when he sat on his couch.
He mentioned his head still hurt, not surprising since he refused to take any pain medication before he left. The nurse said he'd have to stay another hour if he had. Tristan had given me his prescription once we'd made our way to the car. This was my chance to give them all some privacy.
Distraction Page 25
