Page 38 of Rocking the Receiver
IMPOSSIBLE
Rupert
Sportingsunglasses and a baseball cap to somewhat conceal my identity, I hop into Caitlin Cole’s grey sedan. The car couldn’t be less conspicuous, which is perfect. I appreciate that she asks me if I’d like background music to calm my nerves. Despite what brought us together, she teases me when I reply, “Anything but my music and The Beatles is fine.”
Then she proceeds to warn me about the media circus that awaits us. Elliot may be a rookie, but he’s a promising one; vultures thrive on the success and failure of NFL players, and are always chasing the next juicy story.
Secrecy is a bitch.
Because of it, I couldn’t attend my boyfriend of three years’ graduation. I hated being shunned. I hated that I couldn’t sit with his family and cheer his success. I hated that I had to wait for them to return to France to celebrate with him.
Instead, I managed to book a Whiskey Barrels concert in Tijuana so that I wouldn’t sulk while my successful man would walk across the stage to collect his BBA in Finance.
The point is, we don’t want Tim, more than anyone, to connect the dots.
Don’t get me wrong, I love what Elliot and I have and wouldn’t change a thing. Otherwise, our relationship wouldn’t be what it is now, and I’m perfectly content with it.
Throughout the short drive, Caitlin wears a mask of professionalism; no prying, no inappropriate questions.
I suspect that her constant rambling is her way of keeping my mind—and hers—occupied. It proves that she’s just as worried as I am, obviously for completely different reasons.
Hearing about Elliot’s football life from another perspective is refreshing. She recounts Gunner’s mentorship; he’s acted like a mother hen since meeting Elliot, and Caitlin says he must be crushed to retake the field after witnessing his protégé’s injury.
Her fondness for Elliot is evident in her tone, too. My boyfriend wasn’t exaggerating when he told me that this competitive team is also a caring one.
Noticing the hospital facilities from the road, I sigh for the umpteenth time.
The anxiety coiling in my stomach must be written all over my exhausted face because she feels the need to reassure me. “I’m no doctor, but I’m sure it’s gonna be okay, Rupert. This is nothing Doctor Rosie and I haven’t dealt with before. We’ll do everything to have Elliot back on the field in no time.” She pauses. “That’s probably not what you wanna hear… Morerisks… Sorry… You want him safe and sound, right?” There is no judgment in her eyes, and from what I’ve seen, she’s down to earth and driven.
I glance her way. “Don’t worry, I know what you mean, and thank you… for being there for me, and everything…”
“Don’t mention it.” She gestures with her free hand. “Who would have thought that working PR for an NFL player would lead to sitting with a member of The Whiskey Barrels?” She lets out a nervous chuckle. “Shut up, Caitlin,” she murmurs to herself, then speaks up again, “I promise, I’ll get over it soon!”
Her attempt to lighten the mood hits home. My tension eases, and the conversation flows as she navigates to find a parking spot that’s hidden from the public eye and will enable us to use a more concealed entrance. She sure knows her way around here.
I walk down the hospital corridor with her beside me, my heavy footsteps echoing on the drab tiles. The telltale hospital smell assaults my nostrils, bringing me back to darker times. Elliot had been my rock then; I’ll be his now.
My erratic heart hammers in my chest with every step I take closer tohim.
In turn, the weight of the situation registers. Elliot injured his ankle, but the diagnosis is pending. At this point, nobody knows when he’ll be able to play again. I’m his emergency contact, but we’re not even supposed to truly know each other. His family must be worried sick… But wait until the shit hits the fan, and the truth about us is eventually revealed! I can’t even start to imagine their reaction.
I did text Tim so that he wouldn’t look for me once the shock has subsided. I simply told him the truth: He should be withhis family, and I’ll see him soon. I didn’t have the heart to text anything revealing the true nature of my absence.
I would have preferred to be brave enough to confess my secrets to Tim. Our regular talks include off-limit topics, and I’m never the one bringing up Elliot.
The sight of the man I love going down, clutching his ankle, had me frozen in the stands and will forever be carved in my memory… Because, yes, I’m very much aware that I’m in love and have been for longer than I care to admit. He deserves to hear the words that I never dared to utter for fear of making him freak out and reevaluate our commitment. The fact that we recently moved in together proves that we’re serious, but our age difference on top of our choice to fly under the radar troubles me. What if he finds someone his age who’s not closeted?
Shaking my head to chase the gloomy thought away, I will myself to get a grip; I’m here for Elliot, overanalyzing will have to wait.
A pang of unease washes over me for keeping Elliot’s family in the dark for now. I shoot a quick text to Chris, who’s surely watching the game, to inform him that I’ll keep him posted. His immediate thank you brings warmth to my pained heart.
We near his room, and Caitlin gives me a reassuring nod. The doctor we met upon our arrival is the one who took care of Elliot when he checked in with Doctor Rosie, whose name isn’t actually that. Not that it matters since the doctor confirmed I could see Elliot for now as tests and scans will soon follow to assess his exact condition. He said that he’s been responsive so far, yet painkillers had to be administered due to a headache and ankle swelling.
Damn!
Caitlin pushes open the door, whispering that she’s gonna go find Doctor Rosie and will come back in a bit. I can barely breathe. “Thanks for giving us privacy.”
“You’re welcome.”
