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“How are you feeling?” he asks after handing me one of the sodas from the carrier.
I shrug and immediately regret it, shifting uncomfortably to take a long gulp of my drink.
“I’m alright. Sore. How’d the game turn out?”
“We won.” I nod, happy that we pulled it out and annoyed that I wasn’t there to help my team. He pats a small duffle bag that he tossed on the bed. “So, I got you some clothes and your phone and spare charger from your locker. And I’ve already checked in with Sara and told her I can come by in the morning to help with Ollie if I need to or if she’s upset. I told her you’d call or text her once I got your phone to you.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate everything.” I take another long drink and ask, what I hope is nonchalantly, “What about Mac?”
Rizzo gives me one of those knowing looks of his. He hides it well, but Rizzo is far more observant and intuitive than people realize. Which, of course, is just how he likes it.
“She’s alright. I let her know that you were ok as soon as Coach told us. She’s tough, but she took it pretty hard.”
I exhale roughly and run a hand through my hair, wincing again in pain and cringing at how disgusting it feels. I wonder if they’d let me take a shower or not and, reading my mind, Rizzo offers to give me a sponge bath. I flip him off, laughing, but it trails off, my expression growing serious. Hattie’s fearful face flashes across the forefront of my mind and my chest aches.
“She looked so scared,” I say quietly.
“She was. She was fucking terrified, man. Jules told me that she nearly passed out after they wheeled you away.”
I wonder if it’s too late to text her but decide that I don’t really care. If the roles were reversed, I know I’d want her to text me. Honestly, if the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I would be handling it well at all. The thought of seeing her hurt, of not knowing if she was ok, sends a jolt of unease through me, so acute it makes my stomach twist painfully. I lean my head back against the bed and close my eyes.
“So, are the two of you just going to skate around it forever, or what?”
I slide my eyes open, though with a bit of difficulty. I don’t know if it’s the meds they gave me or just everything coming to a head, but I’m suddenly completely wiped out, despite only having woken up a few minutes ago. I meet Rizzo’s steady gaze. I could deny it, but what’s the point. Rizzo knows me better than almost anyone else in the world, sometimes even better than I know myself.
“It’s complicated,” I say instead, which isn’t a complete lie. It’s a bit of a cop out, granted, but not a lie.
He calls me on it, of course. “Try again.” He crosses his arms over his chest and gives me an expectant look.
“I…I’m just not sure either of us is ready to take the leap, even if we might want to.” Knowing that I have feelings for Hattie and that I want her more than I’ve ever wanted another person doesn’t change the fact that it might not work out if we try. It might not be the right time or she may not be ready. Hell,Imay not be ready. I’ve never tried to date anyone while being a single dad and I have no idea if I know how to balance all of that. Of course, Olls already loves Hattie and part of me knows that Hattie would make the situation as easy as breathing, but the fear is still there. The uncertainty is too much for me, at least for the moment, but I decide to really take a look at everything once I’m out of this God forsaken hospital bed.
Everyone here has been great, but I’m a terrible patient. I’m very much of the rub some dirt in it generation when it comes to injuries. I’ve played with broken fingers and cracked ribs, stitches and pulled muscles. I don’t like being out for the count and I really don’t like being taken care of. I’m the one that should be taking care of everyone else. Plus, hospitals bring back too many bad memories of Hannah’s short battle. She chose to go into hospice at the end, not wanting to die in a strange place without her family nearby, but before that, there had been quite a few hospital stays and I don’t like being here one bit.
“I understand that,” he says, seriously. Rizzo isn’t one to mock or make light of shit like this. “Well, when you figure it the fuck out, you let me know. Until then, I can still try to get in her pants, right?” His grin returns and his eyes glitter with amusement.
“You don’t stand a chance, jackass.” My lids are growing so heavy I can barely keep them open, but I have to send a message before I pass out.
Connor: I’m ok. Going to sleep in this terrible hospital bed now. I’ll call you in the morning.
To my surprise, she texts back immediately. Shit. Was she up, just waiting on word from me? Or just so worried she couldn’t sleep?
Hattie: Don’t ever scare me like that again. I’m so glad you’re alright.
Connor: I’m sorry. But I promise I’m alright. And I’ll make it up to you.
Hattie: You owe me coffee for an entire year.
I chuckle, but can’t manage to type out a response to that before sleep finally swallows me up.
I slowly blink open my eyes, confused for a minute where I am. This is most definitely not my bed which I’ve come to believe is the most comfortable one in existence. I paid way too much to make sure that was the case. It takes a second for the room around me to come into focus and another couple after that for my mind to catch up.Oh, right. Hospital. My neck and face and ribs are sore, and I’ve got a headache, but overall, I’m not too worse for the wear.
“Mornin’, sunshine. You look like you got rode hard and hung up wet."
I whip my head to my left to see Hattie sitting in the chair by the window, a cup of coffee from our favorite spot in her hands. Talk about a sight for sore eyes. She’s in leggings and an ice blue sweater that hangs loosely off one shoulder, and her hair is in one of those messy braids she likes.Gorgeous. Completely gorgeous. She gives me a warm smile, but I can see the worry beneath it, and her eyes are red-rimmed and a little puffy. Guilt settles in my chest like a heavy weight. I feel like a total jerk. Not that’s it’s actually my fault, but still.
When I don't answer immediately, she clarifies. "You look like shit.”
My lips curl up. “Not possible, Mac.”
