“Will I ride again?” he groans.
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” I keep my voice soft. The same tone I’ve used so many times when I know the answer should be no, but also acknowledge the progression of healing, will be the true indicator.
“Will I?” he demands.
Dropping my forehead or our joined hands, I suck in several shaky breaths before meeting his eyes again. “As long as you heal properly.”
It’s not that I don’t want Gray to do what he loves. He’s too good to walk away if he’s in proper health to do it. That’s the part that worries me. Thinking back to my first interaction with Gray I am not confident he’ll take the necessary steps to let his body recover before he goes about climbing on the back of another ton-sized animal ready to toss him into oblivion.
“Baby, I’m fine,” he says again, his hand slipping out of mine to run over my hair.
“I think you will be, but it doesn’t mean I’m not scared, and our boys miss you. I’ve never seen such sad eyes.”
“Say that again,” he breathes.
“The dogs have sad eyes?”
“No. The part where you called them ours.”
“Our boys miss you?” I’m confused about why he wanted that repeated.
He groans happily, slightly nuzzling further into the mattress. “I’m getting tired again. But now I’m happy.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you and our boys,” he whispers, as his eyelids flutter shut.
“Gray. Gray.” I lightly tug at his hand, but only a tiny snore sneaks out.
Of course he would say something like that and fall asleep.
Chapter 24
Grayson
Mybodyriotsagainstthe movement as I’m assisted from the bed to the wheelchair. It’s not the first time I’ve done this, but I hate that River is here to watch it this time.
Memories of my ex hating seeing me injured keep pushing to the forefront of my thoughts. My consciousness pushing back, insisting that River is different. She’s built different. Built for this. Only for that same dark devil to remind me she doesn’t want a patient for a boyfriend.
“You good?” she asks, squatting in front of me to lift my feet onto the rests.
“I can do it,” I grunt. Though the energy to do so might fucking kill me.
“Gray, not today. Just…” She blows out a heavy breath, her curls flying out of her face as she rises.
I want to argue with her, but something in the set of her features tells me to keep quiet. Dr. Thompson is here today, and she’s not in the mood.
It’s been eight days laid up in that hospital bed. I’ve been trying to convince them to let me leave for the past three.
After I woke up long enough to hold conversations, it was like I’d nose-dived over a hump. I was up and moving around, with a lot of help, eating and talking. It was time to get out of this germ-infested injury treatment center, but River and my doctor both agreed to monitor me for a few more days.
River and I have had this tension between us since she made that decision for me. I’m not mad at her, per se, I just wanted to go home. She knows how I feel about hospitals, so it feels cruel to keep me here when I’m doing fine.
Then to treat me like I’m an invalid today has my sharp tongue firing at her.
“River, please call me if you need anything,” my doctor voices from the desk as the transporter wheels me past it, River at my side.
“Thanks, Joe. I will.” They smile fondly at each other, and something tells me this isn’t one of the men she has to prove herself to. Their dynamic was very different from what I witnessed with her partners. There was collaboration and mutual respect. Even a joke or two shared when they thought I wasn’t paying attention.
