Page 39 of A Little Too Forward

She relays the information to someone in the background before she speaks to me again.

“As long as he’s fine, that’s all we care about. George is looking at flights right now. We can be back in Canada in…maybe forty-eight hours.”

“I forgot,” I mumble over the line. “The family is in London for Maya’s West End debut.” Max couldn’t make it to the debut due to his game schedule, but I remember him saying he was going to fly out late next week.

“Maya will understand. Max needs us.”

“I’ll take care of him,” I find myself saying. “No need for you to rush back.”

“But he’ll need to be watched for any signs of worsening, won’t he? That’s a twenty-four-hour job.”

“That’s not a problem. We were supposed to go up to the Barrie house for filming tomorrow. We’ll just go up there now for his recovery and rest. Honestly, Judy, I can do this. I can take care of our boy.”

“Are you sure, Sabrina?” Judy asks again.

“I’m positive. Max will be in good hands with me, and I’ll keep you updated. He has the best doctors and trainers—everything will be fine.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. George and I are coming back next Thursday, but we can change our flights if needed.”

“I’ll let you know. And as soon as Max feels up to it, I’ll get him to call you.”

“Thank you, Sabrina,” Judy says, her voice shaky with nerves and relief. “It means the world to us that Max has you in his life.”

We chat for a couple of minutes longer before we both say goodbye. I’ve just leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes for a moment of rest when my name is called.

Springing back to life, I head toward the waiting doctor and Max. My arms circle around Max for a quick hug before I brace an arm behind him and wait for the doctor’s diagnosis.

“He’s got a grade one concussion and will need to rest for the next three days. More if possible, but I’ve worked with athletes before and know they hate to sit still. Don’t let him do too much too soon though.”

The doctor goes on about the over-the-counter medicine he can take for the pain and stresses the need for lots of sleep. I listen carefully to all of it as Max holds on tight to my side. When we’re able to leave the hospital, I park Max off to the side of the entrance and speed walk to where I think I parked his car.

It’s not until I’m back behind the wheel that I realize there’s no way I could lay him down in the back seat. He drove one of his fancy cars tonight to the arena – not the kind of car that’s made for long journeys or comfortable resting. It isn’t big enough for a man of Max’s stature. Improvising, I recline the passenger seat as far as it can go and grab a blanket from the back.

“Thanks, babe,” he grumbles as he pushes out of the wheelchair and moves into the front seat. As soon as he’s settled, he closes his eyes and is fast asleep.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so aware of the bumps on a highway. Every time my car hits an imperfection on the road and shakes, I curse. My neck is starting to hurt from turning it so often to look over at Max. He never makes a noise of discomfort, but I’m a ball of nerves for the two-hour drive.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel when it starts to snow. The GPS shows I’m only a few minutes away from the house, but as an inexperienced driver, snow is not my friend. I blow out a large gust of breath when I finally see the house.

That sigh of relief is short-lived when I’m forced to stop right outside a gate.

“Son of a bitch, Max. Had to splurge for a fucking gate. What the hell kind of—”

“Are you bitching about me having a security gate?” Max grumbles from beside me. His voice is low and hoarse, still not sounding like his usual self. “I’m practically dying, and you’re cursing me.”

“Don’t say that,” I snap. “I was just commenting on the delay,” I lie to him. “Can you tell me the code, please?”

My finger pauses midway when he recites the code. It’s my birthday. What the hell? That’s a crazy coincidence. A gust of cold wind hits me in the face, and I lose my breath, snapping me out of my thoughts. I enter the code, and the gate slowly clicks open.

“So fancy,” I say to myself, starting up the long driveway.

I don’t have much time to admire the large house once we park in one of the alcoves near the door. Getting Max into the house and settled in bed is priority one. I’ll have all the time in the world after that to snoop around.

Yanking open the driver’s-side door, I make my way to the other side and reach in for Max.

“I’m okay, Bean. I can get out of the car myself.”

I give him a skeptical look but let him do his thing. I hold a hand out, not touching him but there and ready if anything should happen. We’re able to make it up the stairs and into the house without any issues.

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