She nods, looks at her computer, and taps several times. “He’s in room 310. Just follow the blue line around the corner and you’ll see it.”
Before she’s even done talking, I’m taking off. Seconds later, I reach the door and walk in with my chest heaving, and it’s not from exertion. I stand a few feet inside the room and watch a doctor pull off his jersey and his—my—shirt over the side of his head, dragging it carefully over his injured chest and shoulder. My body jerks itself in his direction when I see him wince as it’s being pulled off.
“Careful,” I warn the doctor and she turns her head to peek at me.
“You’re family?”
My steps eat up the space between Jay and myself and I’m about to grab his hand, when I stop myself. “Yes, I am.”
“The good news is it’s a clean break,” she says, then looks back at Jay. “The paramedics checked for a concussion and said you’re clear. We’re going to reset your bone, stitch you up, and put you in a sling. You'll be given some pain meds and you should be out of here in a couple of hours.”
“Did you check everything else?” I blurt then look back at my best friend, scanning his body. “Your arms? Legs? How’s your neck? Is your back okay?”
He lifts his fully functional arm, squeezes my elbow. “It’s okay. Everything else is fine.” He smiles, and I let go of a lodged breath.
I stay by his side through it all, watching the doctor set his bone and stitch his skin together, then place his arm in a sling.
The doctor hands me a prescription and tells me to make sure he takes the meds if he feels any pain but not to exceed the dose. I agree, taking the bottle and putting it in my bag. “And make sure he takes it easy for the next week at least. He can walk around but no lifting.”
“Got it.”
“I’m right here,” Jay quips.
“Shut up and let me take care of you.”
Chapter 27
Pain Management
Jay
Two Years Ago
“Youdon’thavetostay with me, Marco. I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself. Go to dinner with Vinny like you were planning on.”
“I already canceled,” he replies, bringing me a plate of food, already cut up. He sits down across from me at my small dining table and gestures to my plate. “Eat.”
“Where’s your plate?”
“Oh yeah,” he whispers to himself, gets up, and retrieves his food from the kitchen counter. When he sits back down, he asks, “How do you feel? Are the meds working?”
It’s been a few hours since we got back to my place, and my mind has been trying to catch up with the events of today. How we went from our usual, playful selves, joking with each other and enjoying a perfect spring day, to panic and pain is beyond me.
But there was more. I’ve never seen this side of Marco. The second I was down, he turned into someone—somethingelse.
Angry.
Scared.
Possessive.
And aroused? I’m not gonna pretend I didn’t see that boner. Was it a fear boner? I’m certainly not going to bring it up, but I’ll be thinking about that tent for a long time.
I felt like a fool for crying like that in front of everyone, but I couldn’t stop. The pain was too strong and sudden not to let it out.
I swallow my first bite and nod. “I’m okay. The meds are working, I guess.”
“You guess? What’s wrong?”
