“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to scare you half to death.” Adrian took his hand off the wheel again but that time it was to ruffle my hair. I saw that I’d have to set down some rules with Adrian about calling me a kid and touching my hair, but it could wait until after I was sure that Gabe was okay. “Gabe’s in stable condition, but he has one hell of a concussion. He’ll probably be staying at Casa de County General for a few days.”
“He’s going to be okay though, right?” I was relieved to hear that he hadn’t been shot or stabbed, but head wounds could be really tricky.
“He’s tough and you’ll be the incentive he needs to get better.” Adrian glanced briefly in my direction and offered me an assuring smile. I hoped he was right about all of it. I assumed Gabe was plenty tough enough, but I really wanted to be his incentive to heal.
We were given his room number right away when we arrived at the hospital. My heart pounded in my chest and the sound of my blood rushing through my veins roared in my ears. I became lightheaded and dizzy outside his room and realized I’d been holding my breath.
“I need a minute,” I told Adrian. “I don’t want him to see me like this.” He was the one injured for fuck’s sake. I needed to get my shit together and be strong. I got my breathing under control and said, “I’m ready.” I forced a smile on my face when Adrian opened the door, but it quickly fell when I saw Gabe lying in the bed, his head wrapped with white gauze. “Gabe.” I rushed to his bed and reached for his hand.
Gabe’s eyelashes fluttered then his eyes opened slowly. He blinked several times before he was able to focus on me. “Hurts.” His slurred word broke my heart, but the way he reached for me with his hand pieced it back together again. “Come here.” He seemed uncoordinated as he tugged me down for a sweet kiss. “Better now.” He dropped back to sleep and I just stood there staring down at him.
I finally looked over at Adrian. “Is there anyone we should call for him. His parents?”
Adrian shook his head. “I’d say yes if he were gravely injured. I think it’s best to let him call his folks when he’s feeling better.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “These are Gabe’s,” he said, “I’m going to get Buddy and take him home with me while Gabe is here. Do you want me to come get you later tonight?”
“I’m not leaving,” I told Adrian. “I’ll call my friend Meredith if I need anything from home.”
Adrian nodded in approval. “He’ll be just fine,” he told me. “I’m going to head back to the station so I can help with the search for the person who did this to us.” I wanted to ask who it was, but I knew he couldn’t answer me.
“Take care of yourself, Adrian.”
“I’ll be back later to check in on you both.” He offered me a quick wave before he took off, eager to find the person responsible for putting Gabe in the hospital.
Once I was alone with Gabe, I looked down at his serene face as he slept. “What am I going to do with you, Gabe?” I released his hand long enough to pull a chair beside his bed then I clutched it once more. “Look, I think we need to come to an understanding,” I said seriously, as if he was listening to me. “I probably more than like you, but I’m not ready to tell you that yet. I want the chance to tell you someday, so can you stop with the getting hurt?” Of course he said nothing. “I’ll take your silence as agreement.”
A nurse came in around an hour later and woke Gabe up to ask him a series of questions. I was happy to learn that he knew the year, his birthdate, and who the president was. He looked happy to see that I was still there. “Hi, beautiful.” He chuckled and then moaned in pain after I looked around to see who he’d been speaking to. “You, Josh.”
“Those must be some serious drugs,” I told the nurse as she replaced the IV bags.
She laughed quietly and said, “They’re pretty good, but not as good as he’d like after being knocked in the head as hard as he was. He can have some more potent stuff after he’s been observed for twenty-four hours.” She looked at me and smiled when she was finished. “Do you want me to have a cot brought in so you can stay with your boyfriend.”
“That would be great.” I didn’t know if Gabe considered us boyfriends, but it didn’t matter. I was staying.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Gabe said when we were alone again. He cleared his throat as if it was really dry.
“Let me get you something to drink.” I poured a cup of ice water from the pitcher beside his bed and held the straw up to his mouth so he could sip it. “Slowly,” I told him when he wanted to gulp it down. “Little sips until we see if your stomach will keep it down.”
“I’m sorry if you were scared.” He reached a shaky hand up toward my face and I met him halfway to help him conserve energy. I was hoping he’d be able to stay awake for longer periods of time.
“I was at first, but Adrian assured me that you were okay.”
“Where is he?” Gabe looked behind me as if he expected to find him in the room with us.
“He went back to the station to help with the search.” I brushed my hand along the side of his face. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain.”
“I can’t believe a seventy-year-old woman got the drop on us,” Gabe said. I was convinced that I misunderstood or his head injury was worse than I thought. “Wanda Honeycutt should win an academy award for best actress in a murder investigation.”
“Wanda Honeycutt?” I asked. “Seriously?”
“Spawn of Satan,” Gabe replied. “If she didn’t kill Georgia then she sure as hell knows who did.”
“I can’t believe it,” I said, recalling the sweet lady who taught bible school to me as a child.
“Believe it, babe.” His eyes were squinted in concentration and I realized he didn’t even realize what he had called me.
My heart realized it though and thumped a little harder and faster at the cheesy endearment. I never considered myself a guy who wanted to be called “babe.” I always thought I’d want to be called something more exotic and less commonplace until the word rolled off Gabe’s tongue.
“What?” Gabe asked me and I looked at him in confusion because I hadn’t said anything. “You have a strange look on your face. Did I say something stupid because I’m going to blame it on the concussion, the drugs, or something else.”
