Page 79 of Body Check

twenty-eight

. . .

Amelia

After two days in the hospital, Jason is cleared to fly home, and we board a charter flight back to Boston. I went back to the hotel to shower and sleep—at his insistence—and otherwise, spent every waking hour at his bedside. I think he’s getting a little sick of me. Three days of togetherness with all the pain he’s in isn’t easy to deal with.

Dr. Iglesias says everything looks great. He’ll be in a cast for a few weeks before he can try putting weight on it again, but for now, all he can do is rest.

Right now, we’re sitting side-by-side on the jet. I wanted my own seat to give him space, but he insisted we share the bench seat. He pulled me close, wrapped his arm around me, and promptly fell asleep.

We won’t have very many moments like this in the immediate future. I’m sure the guys will troop in and out of his apartment, ready to help and entertain him. What will he do when the guys are on road trips? There’s nobody else on the Injured Reserve list right now, and hopefully, it stays that way. But he’ll be alone even more.

Zac prefers not to travel with the team since his kids are so young, so he’ll probably take the lead on Jason’s PT. I’d volunteer to do it, but it’s not a good idea for a laundry list of reasons. I’d much rather be his girlfriend than his punching bag, and coming back from this injury will tax him in ways he hasn’t considered yet.

I’ve already texted Tyler, who delivered a full fridge of food to Jason’s apartment. I also arranged for our cleaning crew to go in and do a deep clean. Even though he has a cleaning crew of his own, I don’t think it occurred to him to schedule them, so I took the liberty of arranging it. I don’t want to micromanage his life; I only want to make this recovery as smooth as possible for him.

Jason jerks awake, his entire body jolting. I pat his chest, trying to soothe him.

“What time is it?” he mumbles.

“We have about an hour and a half left.” Time zones have no meaning in the air.

“Fuck. I had the weirdest dream.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“I was reading.” It’s hard for me to fall asleep on planes, which is not great when half my life is on the road.

“I just want to be home,” he groans, adjusting his ankle, which is propped on the seat across from us. “I want to take a shower and crawl into my own bed.”

Swallowing, I ask the question I’ve avoided. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

He squints at me. “You’re not talking about sexy times, are you?”

I shake my head. “Do you want me to stay over and help take care of you?”

Jason scowls. “I’m not an invalid.”

“No, but you’re on crutches for the foreseeable future. I don’t mind staying. But we’ll need to have a story ready.”

“I wish it was for some sexy times,” he grumbles.

Right now, he’s on so many pain meds, it’s out of the question. I don’t think he could get it up, if he tried.

I pat his chest. “As soon as you’re off the meds, I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t need taking care of.” He huffs petulantly. “I’m fine.”

“I was talking about a blowjob. But if you don’t want one…” I pull my hand away from his pec.

He takes my hand, flattening it against his abs. “I didn’t say that.”

Hiding my smile against his chest, I burrow further into his side. “Your leg might be fucked, but I can still ride you. Just means we have to be careful.”

His hand cups my face, catching my chin between his thumb and his forefinger. He tilts my face up until he can kiss me, his mouth devouring mine.

“You can ride me right now. The flight attendant isn’t watching.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Not until you’re off the pain meds.”