Page 73 of Well Aware

Like right now, I was watching SportsCenter where our last three games were being played on a loop as everyone dissected the game to see where everything was going wrong.

My phone rang, and I picked it up with a smile. “Hey, Merrill.”

“Don’t ‘Hey, Merrill’ me. Why didn’t you call me to tell me what happened?” she grumbled.

I smiled as I picked a thread that was dislodging from the sheets that were covering me.

“I would have, only I went straight into surgery. Then when I was out, it was pushing nearly two in the morning. Then I was in recovery, then Iris was there. I just didn’t have a second to spare until now. Which was why I called you,” I explained. “Though I’d like to note that you got that call two hours ago.”

She sighed. “I’m busy.”

My brows rose. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She paused. “I’m moving.”

I blinked. “Moving where?”

She sighed. “You know where, dufus.”

My heart leaped into my chest. “You’re moving here? To Montana?”

“Yes,” she grumbled. “I can’t survive without you. Plus, there aren’t any great men around.”

I laughed. “You’re in Texas, which has the second highest population in the US.”

“Yeah, but after a quick Google search, I found out that Montana has the most men.”

I grinned. “That’s because it’s cold as fuck here, and women don’t want to deal with the weather.”

“Whatever it may be, I am going to move to stupid, cold Montana. Where there are cowboys and men that like having rough hands.”

I giggled, thinking about how rough Beau’s hands were.

He may have been working in a suit the last eight months, but that didn’t stop him from having work-roughened hands.

“When will you be here?” I asked.

“I’m actually winding down my two-week notice now,” she said. “And I already got a job at Jesper County Memorial. I’ll start as an x-ray tech soon.”

“Good.” I smiled. “We’ll be able to see each other all over again!”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Do you think that shit is going to hit the fan with Eloy?”

I frowned. “What? Why?”

There was a long pause and then Merrill said, “He all but outed your relationship—or previous relationship—to ESPN. He said that you were the love of his life, and he wishes that he’d excused himself from that game, because he was trying to hide his feelings for you, and in doing so, he stopped making calls that could’ve protected you.”

I blinked.

Then blinked again. Slowly.

“He what?”

And just as I all but screeched that last part, the door to my hospital room opened and none other than the topic of our conversation walked in, looking sheepish.

This motherfucker.

“I gotta go,” I grumbled. “The asshole is here.”