“Why not?”
“You know why not.” Another sigh. “Jared worries enough as it is since all that shit with the rogue pack. You saw him earlier.”
“Yeah, I did.”
Personally, Tim thought Jared had every reason to worry. Relations with the Primrose Hill pack were strained these days, to say the least. The majority of the ill feeling stemmed from Nathan being alive and still with his pack after biting Jared and keeping it secret. Members of both packs had witnessed Alpha Newell’s disapproval and his consequent efforts to get rid of Nathan. The fact that Nathan survived and wasn’t punished further hadn’t sat well with Newell, but he couldn’t go to the authorities or make any further demands from Cam as he’d given his word as Alpha. That didn’t mean he had to be happy about it, though.
As much as Tim wanted to share all that with Seb, get him to understand that the situation was more serious than he gave it credit for, it wasn’t Tim’s place. Although Seb was considered pack as far as protecting him went, that didn’t extend to pack business.
But he had to say something….
Tim wasn’t privy to what had gone on at the meetings between Cam and his betas, but Alec had hinted enough to imply things weren’t good between the two packs. “If some of the P-Pack shifters are harassing you, Seb, I think Jared’s right to be concerned. Don’t you?”
“I’d hardly call it harassment.”
“No?”
The door opened, stopping their conversation, and David came in, followed by the doctor.
Tim smiled and stood. “John, good to see you again.”
Dr John Cordon was in his early fifties, tall, silver-haired, and hot. He’d worked at the hospital for as long as Tim could remember, and Tim used to have the biggest crush on him. Even now, the way his eyes lit up as he smiled sent a little shiver down Tim’s spine.
“You too,” John replied, smiling back at him.
They shook hands, and then Tim stood back out of the way to let him do his work.
Chapter Three
Two hours later, Seb had been X-rayed, poked at, prodded, and fitted with a temporary cast for his ankle. They’d also given him some strong painkillers—thank God—and a crutch. Just the one, since he’d damaged his wrist, too. The doctor had explained that normally they’d recommend he use it under his right arm, but since he’d injured that one, the left would have to do.
Whatever.Seb had nodded and thanked him anyway.
Declared concussion-free, the doctor allowed him to go home and rest without needing supervision.Thank God.He was so tired, he could probably sleep in the wheelchair as Tim pushed him out to the car.
David had given him a blanket, and Seb pulled it up to his chin against the chill. “So, is David younger or older than you?” It hadn’t come up while they were in the hospital, and Seb was curious.
“Older by three years.”
“I liked him. He seems like a nice guy.”
“He is.” There was a slight edge to Tim’s voice.
Seb smirked, pretty sure Tim was a little jealous.
They reached the car, and Tim pulled them to a stop with more force than Seb thought necessary. “Do you need any help getting in?”
“No, I think I can manage, thanks.”
Tim still insisted on hovering while Seb manoeuvred himself into the passenger seat, but Seb let it go. It was quite nice having someone fuss over him.
Tim got in to start the engine and get the heat going, then got out to return the wheelchair to the ward. He pushed it with quick, determined steps and Seb unashamedly watched his arse the whole time.
Once they were on their way, the warm air washed over him and Seb relaxed into the seat with a sigh.
Tim glanced at him. “Want me to take you home or back to Jared and Nathan’s?”
“What for?” Tiredness amplified Seb’s irritation; he was sick of shifters treating him as if he was made of glass. His social circle might now include an ever-increasing number of shifters, but he’d managed just fine before they came along.
