“He really did a number on you,” I quipped.
His grin widened even more. “Nah. You should see the other guy, little siren.”
We sat there in a pocket of silence before he reached out and took my hand from where it rested against the side of his hospital bed. His thumb traced slow, gentle circles over my knuckles, enticing goosebumps to rise across my skin. Without moving my head, I looked up at him through thick lashes. He was already watching me with those eyes that said a million things and nothing at all.
“You know I’m okay, right?” he rasped softly.
I broke eye contact, unwilling to let him witness the impending breakdown hovering just beneath the surface. I wasn’t ready for that. Instead, I nodded, my gaze fixed anywhere by him.
“I’m sorry I put a damper on getting Nova home,” he said with a smirk, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “We can go back and get her as soon as they release me from this hell hole.”
This time, I was the one who surprised him.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said with a smile. “She’s already home. Your lovely taxi driver brought her to my place.” I paused. “Hopefully Duke doesn’t ransack my apartment—I gave him the keys.”
Asher burst out laughing. “Ransack what? Your takeout containers?”
At that moment, Dr. Azad popped her head into the room. “I thought I heard that laugh all the way down the hall,” she said. “All your stats came back great, you are free to go. The nurses will be by shortly to unhook you.”
She turned to leave, then stopped and swung her head back into the doorway. “Oh—and by the way, Asher,” she added, waiting until he lifted his head to give her his attention, “dick move gatekeeping that kind of information from her. Be better.” Then she disappeared down the hall.
Dr. Azad was funny and compassionate. The more I learned about Asher, the more I realized that goodness seemed to orbit him effortlessly. The perspective was refreshing, and I was grateful I had been given the opportunity to get to know him, regardless of how short that time might be.
A gentle squeeze of my hand pulled me out of my trance. I met his eyes as he said, “Let’s get home to our love child.”
I rolled my eyes to the back of my head dramatically. “Did you lose a few brain cells when you went under, or is this just par for the course with you?”
He shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”
Asher
Iwoke up in the morning after spending the day in the hospital, picking out a dog with Lennon and dropping her off at her apartment feeling equally elated and spent. My mind spiralled almost immediately, replaying the questions Lennon had fired at me. Not that she didn’t deserve to know—but part of me felt embarrassed admitting that I’d moved back home after getting sick. Like I was a set of broken parts shipped back to the original factory for repair.
Even Lennon, someone who didn’t think too highly of herself or the life she lived day to day, had a fucking apartment. Fuck. I’d never been more embarrassed.
I checked my phone impulsively. No missed text messages. A small part of me felt disappointed that Lennon hadn’t texted at all, but that disappointment quickly faded when I peered up at the time glowing in the corner of the screen.
5:50 a.m.
Ugh. Why was I awake at this god-awful hour?
It had been years since I’d woken up at this hour. Back when I was fit. Back when I played hockey. Back when I wasn’t sick. The day I collapsed on the ice had been a crucial moment—one I hadn’t even realized would change me forever. Sometimes I still wondered if I’d actually scored that goal. Everyone insistedI had, but a part of me wondered if they were sparing me the shame of it all.
I shook my head, forcing the thoughts aside, and decided to get up and make myself a smoothie.
I searched the floor for a pair of track shorts and grabbed the only ones I could find. Sliding them over my quads, the elastic snapped loosely around my waist, threatening to droop even lower.
When I left my room, the house was surprisingly quiet. I eased my way down the stairs toward the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. The floors were brisk against the pads of my feet as I crept toward the blender in the kitchen, pulling out the smaller blender cup to make a single-serve smoothie.
As I gathered the ingredients, a shadow flickered in my peripheral vision, making my heart jump straight into my throat. I whipped my head around and caught sight of Wyatt, my pulse fluttering in its chest cavity.
“Jesus, Wyatt,” I stammered. “You scared the shit out of me.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to,” he said. “Just got in from a run with Dad. He went straight to work to shower and get ready for the day. I was just about to leave, but I’m glad I caught you.” His tone shifted, making me curious.
“Oh yeah?” I asked casually. “What’s up?”
Wyatt moved toward me, pulling out one of the island bar stools and leaning his weight against the counter. He looked like the embodiment ofwe need to talk,and I was suddenly dreading what was to come.
