Page 101 of Heal Me, Love Me

I shot him a glare. “Don’t ever call me cute again.”

He chuckled as we pulled up to the house. I opened the house group chat to send a text since Derek and Enzo weren’t home. Typing one-handed was a pain in the ass, but they’d been asking for an update. Then I sent the same message to Devon since he wanted to be kept in the loop too.

Shoulder’s back in place. X-rays looked clear. Stuck in a sling until I see ortho

Mason put the car in park and climbed out. I did the same, but at a much slower pace.

“You need help?”

“No,” I grumbled.

“You say that now, but wait until you try to put on pants. Then you’re going to be begging for my help.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Can you leave?”

“Nope.”

He unlocked the front door, and I headed straight for the couch while fumbling with the sling’s strap, and he disappeared into the kitchen. I heard a cabinet open, then another, followed by the pantry door.

“If you eat my protein bars, I’m ending our friendship,” I called.

“You buy the shitty ones anyway.”

“They’re not that bad.”

“They taste like chalk.”

While Mason continued whatever he was doing, I sat back and tried to relax. Five minutes later, my phone buzzed, and my agent’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Marcos,” I answered, trying to sound like I wasn’t in pain.

“How’s the shoulder?” he asked without a greeting.

“How’d you know about my shoulder?”

“Devon called me a few minutes ago.”

Damn, that was fast.

“Well, there’s not much to report right now. I’ll follow up with ortho soon.”

“I already took care of that. I’ve got you scheduled with Dr. Meyers tomorrow morning. He’s one of the best sports orthopedic specialists in Northern California.”

I sat up straight, the pain from the sudden movement making me hiss. “Tomorrow morning?”

“I don’t like wasting time,” he explained. “Devon said the X-rays were clear, but shoulders can be tricky. I want someone who works with athletes evaluating you.”

Mason came back into the living room with an assortment of snacks and a bottle of water. He dropped into the chair across from me, then pointed at the phone as if he wanted to know who it was.

“My agent,” I mouthed, then turned my attention back to Marcos. “What exactly will happen tomorrow?”

“Dr. Meyers will examine your shoulder, review the ER notes, and decide which imaging he wants.”

“Is it normal to get that all done so quickly?”