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She exhales a ragged breath.“Oh, thank you, Melissa.I was about to call Nora, but I don’t want to bother her if she’s on a date.Not until we know what’s happened to Aaron, anyway.But my boyfriend can’t drive at night, and I haven’t been safe behind the wheel for nearly a decade.”
“I’ll be over in twenty minutes,” I assure her.“Do you have a contact number with the Midges?Someone to call in case of an emergency?”
She says she does, I encourage her to call it and get more information about where they’ll be treating Aaron, and we end the call.Then, I sprint through the living room and up the stairs to my bedroom, ignoring my brother’s worried, “What’s wrong, Mel?”
I throw clothes in a bag just in case I’m at the hospital for longer than a day, and race back down the stairs.“I have to take Aaron’s gram to the hospital because Nora is out of town with Matty.Which one of you is staying over to watch Chase and take him to daycare in the morning?”
“Me,” Wesley says immediately, making me love my sweet, generous brother even more.“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll open up the catering office for you tomorrow and tell your assistant manager what’s up before I go to work,” Binx adds.
“I’ll finish cleaning,” Jacob says, rising to his feet.“Tell Aaron we’re rooting for him.He can get past this.Even gnarly injuries can’t keep a Bad Dog boy down.Drive safe.”
“I will,” I say, grabbing my keys and heading for the garage, grateful I was too busy cooking to have more than one beer during the party.
I’m sober and fine to drive, though even as I back out of the driveway, I’m not sure why I feel so compelled to make sure Aaron has family waiting for him when he gets to the hospital.
He was such a jerk after we slept together.So condescending and disingenuous.Every time I think about his “move in with me in Minneapolis” speech, I want to punch something.Even if he’d meant it, it would have been a dumb thing to say—I can’t move and leave my entire family and life behind for a one-night stand—but he was just making a point.
Just being an entitled dick, as usual.
I truly loathe the man and would never have imagined I’d launch into “save the day” mode on his behalf.
Maybe it’s because I know he doesn’t have much family.And because I believe everyone, no matter how obnoxious, deserves to be surrounded by the people who love them in times of trial.
Or maybe it’s because I know what it feels like when a dream starts to die, and I don’t want even Aaron to face that alone.He may be a turd burglar, but he’s also worked his ass off to make it to the NHL.To be taken out in his third game, right as people are starting to notice what an amazing player he is, because some Wisconsin cheesehead thought it would be fun to play rough, would be heartbreaking.
My heart literally hurts for him, burning in my chest all the way to his gram’s house and the drive to Minneapolis.It’s still burning when we reach the ER doors just as they’re wheeling Aaron in on a gurney.
He looks rough, banged up, and in a lot of pain, but relief floods his eyes when he sees his grandmother standing inside the lobby.“G-mom, you came,” he murmurs, love thick in his voice.Then his gaze lands on me and his smile grows even wider.“And you do love me, Mel.I knew you did, you little hot mess.I love you, too.”
Then he’s gone, whisked deeper into the bowels of the hospital while I stand there, torn between feeling terrible for the man and wanting to shoot a spitball into his face.
Delores pats me on the back, “He has a head injury, honey.And hot mess is a term of endearment in our family.It means he likes you as much as you like him.”
“I don’t like him, Delores,” I say.“At least not in that way.”
“Right,” Delores says, nodding as she starts toward the check-in desk.“And I hate it when Slasher does that thing with his tongue.”
My head rears back.That was unexpected from Aaron’s eighty-two-year-old grandmother.I mean, I’ve heard she and her new boyfriend, a seventy-something metal band legend who retired to Bad Dog a few years ago, are hot after each other—that’s why Nora and Matty got an apartment instead of moving into her gram’s giant house with her; the elder sex was too frequent (and loud) for their taste—but still…
This entire night has been unexpected.
My phone bleats in my purse and I pull it out to see a text from Ben, asking me where I am.He and his boyfriend, Radcliffe, have been waiting outside the pub where they watched the Super Bowl for nearly an hour.That’s when I remember that this is the start of my ex’s twice monthly Sunday night through Tuesday afternoon visitation with our son.
The son I put to bed and left with my brother…
Who I will now have to call and beg to pluck my toddler out of bed, dress him, and tote him over to my ex before Ben has more ammunition for his accusations that I’m doing too much and can’t keep up with my schedule anymore.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Maybe Aaron’s right.
Maybe I am kind of a hot mess.
The thought makes me determined to find a spitball, so I’m properly armed the next time my nemesis tells me he loves me.
Because I don’t love him back.Not one little bit.
