Page 100 of Knot So Social

“Okay, okay. Don’t bite my head off.”

My regular nurse walks by. “Heading out, Mr Williams? Good luck with it all.”

I salute her. “Thanks, Esther! Good luck with the baby.”

“Thanks!” She pats her mildly rounded stomach and trots off back the way we came.

Joel watches her go, brows knitting together. “You into her, man?”

“What? No, we just got to know each other.”

He smirks. “By holding your dick while you pissed?”

I smack his shoulder, almost overbalancing on my crutches. I hop in place until he laughs and grabs my arm to steady me.

“Easy now. You only just got your learner’s permit for those.”

I stick my tongue out at him, feeling childish but oddly enjoying it. Like we’ve regressed to a happier time. If all it took was his lady, or ex lady, throwing him out, I wish it had happened a lot sooner. Which makes me a terrible brother.

“How are things with . . . your ex?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. I’m avoiding all contact. She’s stopped trying to call every five minutes. I got some hate messages from our circle.” He shakes his head and corrects himself. “Her circle, rather.”

“Cheer, up. You’ve got me, and you know I don’t text that often.”

He arches his brows and scans me up and down. “And look at the state you’re in.”

I grin and stump forward faster, calling over my shoulder, “Still better than them, right?”

The hospital’s automatic doors glide open, and I limp outside, lifting my nose for fresh air. Which isn’t fresh at all because we’re in a metropolis of over eight million people and a handful of them are smoking right outside the door. Still, better than breathing recycled air that’s had the life filtered out of it.

Joel walks by me, swinging his car keys. “Want me to put the car windows down so you can stick your head out?”

“You missed your calling as a comedian.” I roll my eyes and swing my body after him, getting the hang of my crutches now that I’m not negotiating tight spaces. Plus, people move out of my way, which is nice.

Loading into his van takes some time and I hiss with each movement as I get my ass on the front passenger seat. For once he doesn’t crack jokes, just pops my crutches in the back and passes me the seatbelt.

As we drive out of the huge multi-story parking lot, he asks if I want to stop by anywhere.

“Don’t suppose we can go visit Willow?”

“To pick up your car?”

“Yeah.”

He throws me an exasperated look. “Can you even drive right now?”

I purse my lips and stare out the window. “She has my bags as well.”

“Dude, you can barely sit. I get that you want to see her, but how about you wait a couple of days until you aren’t wincing with pain every other minute. You’re only gonna make her feel guilty and anxious like that.”

I lean my elbow on the windowsill and grunt.

“I promise I’ll take you around just as soon as you can drive.”

Why does he have to be right? I really want to see her. But maybe if there is something in my bags I need, I can make up a reason to see the omega before I’m up to driving.

“Better stop by the Heat Wave clinic. They’ve got some worker’s comp forms for me.”