Page 127 of The Lineman

This was Mike.

MyMike.

I blinked at him, then grinned. “Oh, hey there, Captain Spicy Pants.”

Silence.

Matty—not Mrs. H—wheeled away, clutching his stomach, laughter erupting out of him in high-pitched gasps.

Omar made an unholy choking noise.

Mike’s face twisted. “What did you just call me?”

I pointed at him—or tried to. My arm felt weirdly heavy, like I was trying to move through wet cement. “Captain Spicy Pants.”

Mike stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to formulate a response but failing miserably.

Omar wiped a tear from his eye. “That’s it. That is his name forever.”

“Absolutely not,” Mike snapped.

I hummed, narrowing my eyes. “Okay, okay. Maybe not. I can’t remember, well, much of anything, but I definitely don’t remember you wearing pants at all, spicy or otherwise. Do they make pants in sweet instead of spicy? You might be Sweet Pants. Or maybe you’re more of a . . . Saucy Meatball.”

Matty collapsed onto a chair, laughing so hard he nearly fell off.

Mike looked like he was about two seconds from smothering me with a pillow.

I smirked lazily. “You do look kind of delicious, in a sweet and spicy sort of way.”

“Sweet and spicy, like Chinese food. Make it stop!” Matty had tears streaming down his face.

“Jesus,” Mike muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I so hate you right now.”

“Naa, you love me,” I corrected.

Mike didn’t respond.

Which meant I was right.

Well, fuck. He loved me. Or was that the drugs? They’d given me drugs, hadn’t they? I couldn’t remember. Maybe that was just Mrs. H’s cooking, some kind of weird Scottish aftereffect.

No one else seemed to have had the same meal. They were all so . . . boring . . . and swaying. So much swaying.

Eventually, the laughter faded, and my head started to clear. The fog of pain meds lifted just enough for reality to creep back in.

And with it came the pain.

A dull, deep ache radiated from my leg, while my head throbbed like I’d been cracked with a two-by-four.

I let out a slow breath. “Okay. Yeah. Life is starting to suck.”

Mike was at my side in an instant, his hand hovering over mine like he wasn’t sure if he should touch me. “You okay? What do you need? Talk to me.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Just . . . starting to feel it.”

“Call the nurse,” Mike barked at Matty. “Get him pain meds. Now!”

Turning back to me, his face tightened, worry creeping into his expression.

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