Page 39 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero

The curtain slid open with the tinkling zip of plastic rings against the metal railing. The doctor, an older guy carrying a clipboard, came in and drew the curtain shut again before he looked at me. “You’re going to need stitches, Mr. Callahan.”

I waited for him to continue and say, “That’s it. No harm done,” but I could already feel that wasn’t the case. The expression on his face was too severe, his features too tight as he held my gaze.

That meant the cut was the least of my worries. The real damage was internal. Fuck, what a freak accident.

One of the roofers had had a misstep and careened through the rafters, falling hard right on top of me. The impact had sent me slamming into the work table and I’d somehow sliced my leg open on the corner. I’d really thought it was just a cut, but the way the doc was looking at me said I’d been wrong.

“The scans showed a minor tear in one of the tendons in your knee,” he explained, eyes somber and serious on mine. “We’re also going to be referring you out for PT. I strongly suggest that you attend those sessions, son.”

I sighed but nodded. Lila, meanwhile, came up close to my side and started talking to him, asking dozens of questions about how to care for stitches and what to expect from the PT. Obviously, she didn’t know that I’d once spent three months in a hospital and already knew all this stuff, but somewhere deep down inside, I appreciated her concern.

Even if I was in too much pain and was too much of an asshole to come right out and say it.

“Will the cut be bandaged?” she asked. “How often do we need to change that? Have you got someone who can show me how to do it? Can the stitches get wet? How long will they stay in? Do we bring him back here to remove them?”

On and on she went, but the doctor seemed relieved that she was taking it so seriously, patiently answering each question before he finally left, letting us know a nurse would be in shortly to do the stitches.

“You can go now,” I muttered once he was gone. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

Those light blue eyes widened and she scoffed, delicate hands falling to her hips like she was preparing to take a stand. “I’m not going anywhere and you’re not allowed to stand up yet, so you can’t chase me out.”

“You want to stay while they place the stitches?” I frowned. “Are you one of those people who enjoys blood and gore?”

Her cheeks paled a bit. “No, but I am one of those people who knows how to support my friends. I’m also one of those people who will keep my mouth shut if you squeal like a piglet while they’re putting those stitches in, so go for it. Don’t hold back on my account. You don’t have to be shy.”

I exhaled deeply through my nostrils. “Fine. Stay.”

Another zip of plastic against metal rang out and this time a nurse came in. She had a steel tray in her hands and a sympathetic smile on her lips. “How are you feeling, sir? I heard I’m sewing up your leg?”

I nodded, happy for her to do what she needed to without making a fuss about it, but naturally, that wasn’t how Lila rolled. She came straight back to my side, planting herself firmly on the mattress beside me. Then she reached for my hand and took it in a firm grip.

“Okay,” she murmured under her breath. “Just relax. You’re going to be fine.”

The nurse rolled a stool closer and sat down, preparing what she needed on her tray before turning a small glass bottle upside down and piercing the film with a syringe, slowly drawing some liquid into it. Lila winced and tightened her grasp on my hand, looking everywhere but at my injury or the nurse.

“Were you talking to me or to yourself?” I grunted but let her hold my hand if that was what she needed. “You really will be okay. Just relax, Lila.”

She rolled her eyes, but before she could say whatever she’d been about to, the nurse spoke up. “Alright, Mr. Callahan. I’m going to be using some local anesthetic to numb the area. You’ll feel a little pinch with the injection, then we’ll give it a minute before we get you all fixed up.”

Lila blanched but flashed the nurse a forced smile. “Thank you so much. We really appreciate this. He didn’t even want to come. I’m so glad we did. This seems a lot more serious than he thought.”

“Men.” The nurse gave me a good-natured wink before she tore open a tiny white square and drew some kind of wipe out of it. She swiped it across my skin, but I barely felt its cool wetness or the pinch of the needle over the throbbing hot pain of the actual injury.

Lila, however, still hadn’t looked at all. “I’ve always admired nurses, doing the work you do for people who are in pain and would mostly rather be anyplace else. This guy, for example, would rather be back at work, bleeding all over the site where he got injured.”

She chuckled. “It’s a really good thing you brought him in. This wound could’ve gotten infected in a heartbeat and it would’ve made for a nasty recovery. And for the record, I’m the best in the clinic at stitches. We should get it looking nice and smooth.”

I already had nasty scars, but she was either kind or modest enough not to mention those. Lila kept chatting to her and I gritted my teeth, but the anesthetic was helping a little. Once the stitches were in, the nurse rolled back the stool and stood up, snapping off the gloves and striding over to a trash can mounted on the wall to drop them in.

“You’re lucky to have such a caring girlfriend, sir. Keep that dry and clean for now, okay?” Before I could correct her, she strode out of the exam room and Lila gave me a smug look.

“You hear that? You’re lucky to have me here. Now, let’s get you home.”

“I can get myself home.”

“Nope.” She gave me a sweet but stubborn smile, even batting her lashes a little bit. “I’ve still got your keys and there’s no way you’re driving yourself after all that.”

I groaned, but I was still in too much pain to argue. Sliding off the bed, I half-hobbled, half-limped to the truck and gave her my address once we were in it, but I refused to let her help me walk or climb in.