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20
3 March
Xavier Hall
Rowan held his mobile in his hand, flipping it over and over, debating whether to use it or not. He’d met with the orthopedic surgeon earlier in the day. They were preparing him for his third surgery. The first had been to restore blood flow to his leg by harvesting the saphenous vein in his left leg. Three weeks later, he had the surgery to take the metal brace off. Now, they needed to go in and repair the ACL and MCL, which had been torn along with the dislocation. It was not the news he’d been hoping to hear. He was anxious to get away from the duke’s estate, but he feared he wouldn’t be able to do so with the impending operation. He needed an exit strategy.
Finally, he brought his mobile up and turned it on. It took a number of seconds before it began to buzz and vibrate with the notifications of hundreds of voice messages, and texts. He didn’t look at it yet, just let it register everything. His Twitter app showed a number in red that seemed ludicrous. With a healthy dose of dread, he went to his text messages.
Tris: Call me.
The simplicity of Tristan’s last text made him feel like an ass. He gave a cursory look up. Stopping to read every fifth text but skipping anything with the word Juliana or Princess.
Tris: We lost today. Needed our Skip.
Tris: You bloody wanker. Where are you???
Tris: No one will tell us anything. Not even where you are. Hope ur ok.
Caleb’s texts were numerous, but every single one said the same thing. Thirty days of the same text. Typical Caleb.
Caleb: Hope ur good.
He scrolled to Nico’s texts. He read through every single word Nico had sent him. And he smiled. He should have been more diligent about checking in with Nico. Rowan knew he understood, but since Nico was taking care of things for him, he really shouldn’t have shut him out.
Rowan owned three German Shepherds, and Nico had taken them in when Rowan got injured. He grinned at the pictures Nico had sent him. Pelé, Leia, and Leo looked like they were loving all the extra attention from Nico’s children. Rowan knew he would have to do some major retraining when he got home. With his crazy travel schedule, the dogs were used to having other people care for them. But aside from the World Championship Cup, he’d never been away from them for this long. And during the Cup campaign, they’d stayed at his house with a carefully vetted dog-sitter. They looked happy and healthy. Rowan eased, and he was surprised to know he’d needed to see these pictures. He’d been blocking them out, not wanting to stress about their care, but the worry about them had been there anyway.
He clicked on Nico’s name and waited for the call to connect.
When Nico answered with a, “Mate,” Rowan heard nothing but barking and squealing in the background.
“Is it that noisy every day?” Rowan cringed at the chaos.
“My fault,” Nico answered. “Give me a second.”
Rowan heard Nico talking to the kids and calming the dogs. After a minute, he heard a door close and blessed quiet.
“Sorry, mate. I made the mistake of getting the pups all riled up when I saw your name on the screen. They are like having babies. Before I can stop myself, I’m chatting at them in a voice twice as high as my normal pitch.”
“You are spoiling them, aren’t you?”
“No. I have adhered to all instructions. But I cannot swear Annalise and Gabe have.”
Rowan laughed. “Fair enough.”
“Been making headlines.”
Rowan groaned. “Unavoidable.”
“That the only explanation I am going to get?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause. Rowan could tell Nico everything. And he knew he would eventually. But since he’d made Juliana keep it from her brother and sister, he thought it only fair he did the same.
“How’s rehab?”
Rowan launched into a detailed account of what he was doing daily and recounted his conversation with the surgeon from earlier in the day, finally getting to the point. “They’ll do the surgery in Armenta, and I want to make sure I don’t come back here.”
“How can I help?”
Nico had taken over coaching the national team the previous year. With his marriage in the shitter and the demands of joint custody, he needed to be more available. His new gig allowed him a more flexible schedule. International competition was scheduled throughout the year but during breaks from league play. Camps, times when the staff could get the national team players together happened a couple of times a year. During the camps, the coaching staff would observe players while training.
“I hate to impose.”
“Ro,” Nico said on a resigned sigh. “You wouldn’t think twice about having me impose on you. I’ve sat here on the sidelines since your injury—because you asked me to. I know you have avoided everyone’s attempts to reach out to you, even Tristan’s. You don’t have to go at this alone.”
Rowan had been coming up through the system as Nico’s career was wrapping up. Nico didn’t hesitate to transition into coaching. When Nico was named the national team coach, Rowan worried for two solid seconds about it being difficult playing for his friend. But it dissipated quickly, and there hadn’t been one moment of strain. He supposed the healthy amount of shared respect helped. His friendship with Nico was his oldest and closest relationship, so it shouldn’t have felt odd to ask him for more help. Leaving his dogs with Nico had been born from necessity. And Rowan could find someone else to help care for him; he just didn’t want to.
“Can you help me out after the surgery?”
