“I wish you could come with me,” he said, rubbing his cheek against mine, marking me with his scent.
“And I can’t. The hospital is short-staffed as they are. People get sick and hurt, even if I take time off.” Not to mention it would distract him, something he very much didn’t need right now.
“I know.” He looked like a sad puppy.
“It’s not like I won’t see you soon.” Something I kept having to remind myself of.
His phone beeped in his pocket. He grunted and pulled it out. “The car will be here in two minutes.”
“Well, in those two minutes, we can be sad because we need to be apart, or we can spend them kissing.”
“I know my choice,” he said, and brushed his lips against mine.
The kiss was sweet and gentle, and the emotions poured through it, my eyes tearing up, my heart racing. I had to be strong, not show him how much this affected me. He didn’t deserve to feel guilty for leaving. He was going where he needed to be.
I didn’t know how I would’ve said goodbye if I was the one bringing him to the airport. At least here, there was someone showing up to grab his things and putting an end to our prolonged good-bye.
One last hug, one last kiss, and he was gone. He’d be back with the team by nightfall. They wouldn’t be able to take care of him the way I could, but they’d be able to take care of him in their own way, and that was what my mate required right now.
As difficult as it was to give him that last hug, that last kiss, as he went back to his team who was still traveling, it was time. Axel wasn’t fully ready to play, not being able to shift here in the initial 24 hours had really hindered his progress, but he was close and much better than the initial reports thought he’d be. Of course, those reports were done by humans, and his healing was far superior to that. Go, furry genes, go.
He needed PT that was specific to his job, or so Coach had explained when he delivered the news. Ax hinted he would fight to stay here until he was ready to play, but I couldn’t allow that. As much as I wanted him here, Coach was probably right. If he was going to get back on that ice, I wasn’t who we needed and neither was the PT he’d been working with.
Axel had asked me to come with him. I wanted to, but it wasn’t practical, not for my job, and as much as we both wished that weren’t the case, it was what it was. But the reality was that it also wasn’t practical for my mate either. He needed to focus on his skills so he could get back to doing what he loved, and me being there would be a distraction.
We talked to each other every day, and for the first three, it felt like things were going really well. The team doctor andthe therapists were pleased with how far he’d come. Axel was excited. But over time, that diminished, but hope was still there.
Today’s call was different. I knew from the second his face filled the screen that something was wrong. I assumed he was having an off day, but it was so much worse than that. They weren’t happy with his progress. The first couple of days he looked unstoppable, but then it slowed to the point of no progress. Slowing was normal, but stopping? That was a really bad sign.
They said he needed more healing before they could be productive with him. My heart broke for Ax as he told me, only my heartbreak didn’t match his expression as he continued explaining the situation.
“I found a specialist who is a shifter and I think can help me.”
“Oh, that is good news.”
“That’s not the best news. He’s about 20 minutes from your house, so if you’ll still have me, I’d like to come back.”
“Of course, I’ll have you.” What I didn't say was that I was happy. As much as that was true, how could I tell my mate that I was glad he wasn’t well enough to be away from me? What kind of a mate did that make me? “Give me all the details.”
9
AXEL
“I can’t believe you remembered we used to go to that place when we were at college.”
Stan had pulled into the parking lot of Lucky Strike Arcade.
It must’ve been a franchise because this arcade was identical to the one we used to frequent when we were students.
“Are you kidding me?” He killed the engine and studied his hands, the same hands that had jerked me off this morning. “You made us go there after every game. You said it helped you decompress.”
“I was stressed.”
He folded his arms. “But you crushed every team you played against.”
“Exactly, and every game was and is stressful.”
I peered through the windshield. The neon signs were identical, and the building also needed lick of paint. The pixilated spaceship was newer than the one near our college.
