Page 55 of Love of the Game
Well, I’m on my way to the hospital. Tell them I’m allowed to see you.
I was sure visiting hours were over, but this was Jon and I was me. There were privileges to being a sports star. Before I got to my SUV, I had a reply.
Already did. ??
Of course he had. This was a man who saw five moves ahead on the ice. He didn’t want to inconvenience me, but he also knew I’d come, despite his protests. Something in my body loosened, and I let out a long breath. God, I loved him so much. I ached in my soul, but I pushed that aside. I’d deal with my feelings later. Right now was about Jon.
Didn’t actually take that long to get to the hospital from downtown—I’d forgotten how close it really was. Maybe not blocks away, but within fifteen minutes I was walking to his room. “He may be out of it,” the nurse at the station had said. “He’s on pain medication.”
When I got to Jon’s room, he was scrolling through his phone, his brows deeply furrowed, as if he didn’t understand what he was looking at. I paused at the door. “Hey.”
He beamed at me with a loopy smile. “Baby, hi! You’re here! You didn’t need to come.” He grimaced a little and dropped the phone onto his bed. “My arm’s broken,” he whined. “I can’t do anything. I fucking hate it.” He sighed dramatically. “But I’m glad you’re here. You didn’t have to, but I’m happy.” Another pause. “Well no, not happy. This sucks. But you’re here.”
Yup. Definitely on painkillers. “Yeah, I’m here.” I entered, found the guest chair and pulled it up next to his bed. “Thought your shoulder was broken?”
He waved with his left hand. “Yeah, yeah. Shoulder. Arm. Whatever. I can’t use it and it hurts. I don’t care that it hurts, but it still hurts. This stuff is okay, though.” He flailed his good arm with the attached tubing. “So much better than when I cared that it hurt.”
“Uh huh.” I took his left hand in mine. “Guess they’ll do surgery in the morning?”
That furrow again, and boy were his eyes glassy. “I think so. Said I should sleep.”
“Probably should.” That’s when I spotted what he’d been scrolling through on his phone. Hotels. “Hey babe, what are you doing?” I picked the phone up.
“Ugh. Trying to find a decent place I can live in with the cats. After the surgery. Not going to be able to drive, and they want me close to here for doctors and PT and all that. Papa said he’d come live with me but—” He gestured at the phone. “Thor and Loki. Maybe I’ll buy a place or something.”
That…was the first time I’d ever heard Jon say anything to indicate how wealthy he must be. We’d never really discussed finances other than his comments early on, and he’d been fine with me paying my fair share. The idea he could just buy a place… At least two bedrooms, one for him and one for his father.
Well. Then again, his papa was Gunner Eriksson.
Of course he was planning ahead, but the drugs were making him more than a little dopey, because the solution to this problem was obvious. “I don’t think you should be worrying about that right now. Or, you know, spending any money while on painkillers.”
“Ugh, probably. But they’re all alone there.” Some neurons must have fired correctly through the drug haze, because he brightened and met my gaze. “Hey! You can check on them.” Then his face fell “Unless you have a road trip. Oh God, you probably have a road trip. I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to worry or?—”
I squeezed his hand. “Babe, I’ll go get the cats tomorrow. They can stay with me. You and your father can stay with me. I’ve got three bedrooms, remember?”
“But road trips?”
“Five game homestand,” I said. “You’ll be recovering and your dad will be here while I’m gone.”
The furrowed brow again. “Yeah,” he said slowly, then nodded. “Yeah, that’ll work. I should’ve thought of that.”
“Well, drugs.” I gave him a smile. “You’re out of it.”
“Probably.” He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the pillows. “God, I’m tired. I hate this. I’m glad you came. You fixed everything. I love you.”
I leaned over him to press a kiss to his forehead. “Love you too. Don’t worry about anything. Sleep. Do you want me to stay overnight?”
“No. I mean, yes, but no. I’d feel too guilty and probablywouldn’t sleep. Feel better if I knew you could get a good night’s rest. You won your game. You should rest.”
“You won your game, too.”
He huffed a laugh. “I get surgery as a prize!”
“Yeah. That sucks.” I rose and kissed his forehead again. “Babe, try to sleep. Do what the docs say. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Mmm,” Jon muttered before he closed his eyes.
I left him to sleep, thanked the nurses on my way out and headed back to my apartment. I’d have to rearrange my office and get a bed, but that wasn’t a concern. The place was big enough, and I’d feel better if Jon and his dad were somewhere that wasn’t a soul-sucking hotel. Returning the favor, as it were.
