She smiles again. “Ever the hopeful optimist, eh? We can try.”
Before I can take a step forward, a stab of pain hits behind my eyes. I don’t have time for a migraine, but that’s not how these things work. Hopefully it’ll stay a low-key headache until we can get back to the house.
Fruitless optimism again. There’s precisely zero chance of me making it beyond the fucking parking lot without this blowing up inside my brain. My vision blurs. Can I make it out to the car?
Maybe. But certainly not worth the risk while carrying my son in my arms.
The temptation is to hide what I’m feeling from Victoria. But if this thing between us is going to work out, I need her to be able to trust me, and for that to happen, I have to be transparent in all things.
“Tori?”
Either the use of her nickname or my tone makes her head snap toward me. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you take Wyatt for me, please?” The pulsating pain in my head gets stronger. The screaming kids, the harsh bright lights. This is literally the worst possible place to have a stupid headache right now.
My eyes can’t focus as she guides me to the door. She’s got her camera bag, Wyatt’s bag, and Wyatt, but she’s somehow ushering me to safety, her hand on my lower back. She’s saying something to me, but the sound of her voice is distorted. All Iknow is that she’s not yelling, or maybe she is and that’s why there’s a drummer in my skull banging on my brain.
“Keys.” Her voice is sharp. We’re somehow at Apollo’s SUV, Wyatt’s in his seat and Victoria has no bags hanging off her. Man, she works fast.
The world sways as I grip the side of the car. She’s patting down my pockets, and while I want to help, all I can do is grit my teeth and hope the nausea welling in my stomach passes quickly, if nothing else.
She finds the keys and helps me into the car, starts the engine, and before we’re out of the parking lot, I close my eyes and let the darkness win.
CHAPTER 31
Victoria
I’ve never suffered from migraines, neither has Mom, but when Raffi turned to me in the Fun Station, pale, wincing, and disoriented, my gut told me that’s what it was. He was out cold before I even backed the car out of the space. He woke up when I roused him, so I figured we didn’t need a detour to the hospital, but the thought crossed my mind.
There was no way Mom and I could get Raffi out of the car and into the house, so I had no choice but to call for backup. Eloise is pacing the sidewalk outside my house when I pull up. Ares and both his brothers are waiting to help.
They asked if it would be better to drive to the hockey house and put Raffi in his own bed, but I told them no. I don’t want him waking up and thinking I just dropped him off at the first sign of trouble. I don’t want him thinking I left him.
I’ve lived that and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
Not to mention that I really want to take care of him.
Between the six of us, we get a pretty out-of-it Raffi into bed. Apollo found migraine meds in Raffi’s bathroom, so wemanage to get those and small sips of water into him before he lies down again.
I make my room as dark and quiet as I can, and Wyatt can have all the screen time he wants so he doesn’t make Raffi’s headache worse by running around screaming with a sword again. Artemis suggests a cold compress, so I make that as well.
The internet says to try caffeine but he’s too out of it right now to drink a cup of coffee. Eloise has gone to the store to find some ginger candies for him to eat when he wakes up. They’re apparently good for the nausea if that’s one of his symptoms.
He hasn’t lost consciousness, but he’s pretty messed up. Apollo insists on calling a doctor to come and check him out. Not the team doctor, though—the consensus among the guys is they needed to keep this in the family, and not potentially get Raffi in trouble with the team.
The doctor hooks him up to an IV for meds and hydration and says he’ll be back later to remove it or replace it depending on how Raffi is.
I don’t know what kind of doctor he is, or how much his house call costs, but the de la Peña brothers tell me it’s covered and not to worry about it.
While Raffi sleeps, Mom makes everyone coffee, and Ares orders food on an app that’s at my door before Eloise is back from the store. She arrives to everyone opening bags and Artemis and Mom getting plates from the kitchen.
“How is he?” She rubs my back before placing the ginger candies on the counter.
“Resting, hooked up to an IV. Doctor said he’ll be back later to check on him.” I can’t help glancing at the brothers who seem to be having a full-scale conversation between themselves just with their eyes.
“Is this the first time this has happened?” Ares takes a bite of his shawarma.
I nod and say, “At least in front of me. It’s probably not his first headache.” I don’t know how to thank these men. Not only for the simple things like loaning us a car or calling a doctor, but for showing up for Raffi when he needs them. That kind of friendship is next level. And considering how things went with Jazz, well, I know how precious it is. As someone who recently believed all hockey players are dicks, I’ve had to eat humble pie. Turns out, onlysomehockey players are dicks.
