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“Hey, you.” I sigh, resting back against the table. I can see the tearstained streaks on her cheeks, her eyes are hazy with tears, and her face and neck are blotchy, but to me, she’s never looked more beautiful.
“I need to see you,” she says. “I need to be there.” Her eyes roam over what she can see of me in the camera, looking for injuries. “Are you okay?” She places her hand over her mouth, but it wasn’t soon enough. I saw the quiver of her lips as tears well in her eyes. “Tell me you’re okay,” she whispers.
“I’m okay,” I assure her. I wish I could reach out and slide my arms around her waist. I need to hold her next to me. “Just a mild concussion.”
“Just?” she scoffs. “That’s serious, Brock Williams,” she scolds.
“I know, baby, but I’m going to be just fine.”
She ignores me. “Have you seen the doctor?” she asks. “What are they saying?”
“I have seen.” I turn the phone so that she can see Dr. Stern.
“Tell me what he needs to do and not do. I’ll make sure it happens.”
Relief washes over me. She’s not leaving me, not yet at least. She’s going to stay and make sure I’m okay. That counts for something, right? That means that she still loves me, and she’s not going to hold this media shitstorm against me. Not that I did anything wrong, but it is my career that had the press seeking me out, and more than likely her mother too. Then again, it could just be the twisted fuck that she is, and she wants what her daughter has. I use the word mother lightly. More like an egg donor.
It’s not until Dr. Stern stops talking and I hear her sweet voice again that I will myself to focus on their conversation. “I’ll be with him,” she tells Dr. Stern. “I’ll check on him regularly and make sure he doesn’t start any of this for forty-eight hours.”
“Sounds like you’re in good hands.” Dr. Stern nods at me, smiles at my girl, waving at the phone, and leaves us alone.
I turn the camera back to face me. “I’m sorry,” I say before she can.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone needs to be apologizing, it’s me. I avoided you, and then there’s my mom….” Her voice trails off.
“I love you, Josephine Henderson.”
Her brown eyes soften, and once again well with tears. “I love you too.” She huffs out a breath, looking up at the ceiling. When her eyes find mine again, she’s composed herself. “I’ll be at the airport. Is that okay? If I wait there for you?”
“Yes.” There is nothing that I want more.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” she asks again.
“You heard the doctor. I’ll be just fine.”
“Have a safe flight. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“We’re wheels up in three hours later.” Caleb tells her. That’s if everyone showers, and gets through their press interviews in time. I hope it’s sooner than that so I can get to her.
“I’ll be there.”
“Love you, Sunshine.”
“I love you too.”
The flight did nothing to ease my headache. It didn’t help that Dr. Stern, Caleb, and Coach Matthews all kept checking on me, as well as some of the other guys. It didn’t go unnoticed to me that Coach Henderson wasn’t one of those people. Hell, I’m not even sure he was on the plane. I took a seat in the back and closed my eyes, willing the flight to be over.
I see her before she sees me. She’s sitting outside the Starbucks with her Kindle in her hand. I know she’s engrossed in whatever book she’s reading. My girl loves her stories. With my suitcase wheeled behind me, I take a seat next to her. She turns to smile kindly, but as soon as she sees that it’s me, she launches herself into my arms, only to pull away just as quickly.
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” Her eyes take me in once again, looking for injuries now that she can see me in the flesh.
“It hurts me that you’re not still in my arms.”
She smiles through her tears. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice cracking.
“None of that,” I tell her. “We’re good, Sunshine. I promise you. We’re good,” I repeat.
Caleb stops next to us. “You two ready to head home?” he asks.
