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.
Eloise’s hand covers mine as she sits next to me. “He’s going to be okay.” She sounds far surer than I feel.
“We’ll make sure of it,” Artemis says confidently, but the shaky feeling in my stomach doesn’t go away.
There’s a heavy silence hanging over all of us, and I can’t help staring toward my bedroom. How often does this happen? How does he manage alone? If he hasn’t told the brothers sitting across the table from me, does he tell anyone else? So many questions, so few answers.
“Do I call his parents?”
Eloise shakes her head. “I don’t think so. They might freak out. He might get mad. Maybe just wait for him to wake up first?”
She’s right. The relationship I have with Mom isn’t the same kind everyone else has with their parents. If I call his parents and they flip out, I don’t want him to be upset with me. And what if he hasn’t even told them about Wyatt and me? That would just bring more stress onto his plate.
He’ll tell them when he’s ready.
“The kid’s his, isn’t he?” It’s Ares who speaks, but I snap my wide eyes to Eloise.
“You didn’t tell him?”
She shrugs. “It’s not my story to tell, Tori. Friends don’t tell friend’s secrets, even to their boyfriends.”
I can’t fight the urge to hug her right now. “Thank you.”
“Ofcourse. In fairness, he never asked either. Don’t give me too much credit. He’s pretty good at figuring out when I’m side-stepping the truth.” Her cheeks are red as she glances across the table to her beau.
Theirs is a somewhat unusual pairing, but they work so well together it makes my heart happy for her.
“He’s like a mini Raffi,” Apollo confirms, dragging a piece of pita through the fresh hummus quickly disappearing on the table.
“He is.” It doesn’t take long for me to give the guys a brief rundown of my history with Raffi. By the end of it, I can’t tell if they look like they might laugh or cry. I can relate. That’s how I felt when the pregnancy tests all told me I was pregnant, for real, and had no way of reaching the father.
“Shit.” Ares blows air through his teeth before glancing at Mom. “Sorry.”
She pats his hand. “That’s probably one of the least offensive words these walls have heard.” She snorts before giving me a pointed look.
“That’s tragic.” Apollo has stopped eating the hummus, which is a damn shame because it’s mouthwateringly delicious, but also works for me because it means I can swoop in and finish the tub.
“It all worked out in the end.” Mom sounds so sure Raffi is my forever. Now that I’ve found him, that’s it.
My heart swells in agreement, but my brain says it’s early still.
