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He shivers, a breath catching in his throat, and thrusts his hips against my leg.
I kiss his hair, and he backs up, pulling socks and shoes from the bag.
“Sit,” he instructs, and since I don’t really want to bend that far, I do what I was told.
He finishes getting me dressed, helps me into a matching hoodie, and I steal my hat back.
A nurse comes in with my discharge instructions and a brown bag with the pain meds I’m being sent home with. I’m told what to look for in case of problems, and that if I don’t rest, I’ll fuck myself up.
Brendon grabs my hand and leads us back to my car. I don’t pull my hand away even though a nagging voice in the back of my head says I should. Someone could see us, and the news could spread through the team in a heartbeat, but I just don’t care right now. I need the comfort of his touch more than I need the secret.
We get in the car and get out of the parking garage with my hand on Brendon’s thigh.
“So . . .” He trails off, and I wait for him to figure out what he’s going to say. He cracks his knuckles and rotates his wrists before sucking in a deep breath. “Preston and Jeremy know we’re married.”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but that wasn’t it. I sit back in the seat and think about it for a minute.
Did I want to be there when they found out? Yes.
Am I upset they know? No.
“What did they say?”
“Well, Jeremy is not amused that we kept it from him, but he doesn’t care otherwise. And who the hell knows what Preston thinks?”
I chuckle because that’s fair. Dude isn’t a big talker.
“Are you mad?” Brendon sounds so small, so fearful, it breaks my heart. Even if I was mad, his fear would take the wind out of my sails.
“No, I’m not mad. Tell me what happened.”
He visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping, and one hand starts moving as he talks.
“After I was released from the ER last night, I wanted to see you. They had come after the game and waited for me, so when I came up here, they followed. The nurse was not very nice and said only family could go back after visiting hours.” He takes a deep breath and clicks his tongue. “Imayhave yelled at her that you’re my husband, so she gave me five minutes.”
This story is so Brendon that I can’t help but laugh. It hurts to laugh, but Jesus, that’s funny.
“I love you,” I say between chuckling and holding my stomach.
“I love you too, obviously.”
Brendon lifts my hand from his lap and kisses my palm, then bites the fleshy part between my index finger and thumb.
“Hey, we don’t bite!”
He lets go but has a devious smile on his face. “You do too bite. I have it tattooed on my neck.”
Out of nowhere, Brendon stops the car in the middle of the road and climbs out. I don’t even have time to ask why. The cold air blasts me from the open door, and I watch as he rushes into the street and picks something up, then runs back.
Is that a dog?
Brendon gets back in the car and slams the door closed holding a shaking white puppy.
“What the hell are you going to do with that?” I ask him and take it as he hands it over. The poor thing is shivering and wet. I look in the back and find a T-shirt to wrap around it and hold it against my chest so it’s not pushing against the surgery site.
The puppy has a light brown patch around the left eye and right ear. It’s adorable, and I love dogs, but we live in the dorms which have a strict no pets policy. Plus we have nothing for it, and we have classes and hockey.
“I couldn’t just leave it in the middle of the road where it would get hit by a car!” Brendon blasts the heater, and I point one vent toward the dog to help dry it. “Do you know how to tell the sex of it?”
