FALLON
“I don’t wantto be knocked out,” I said, with as much force as I could, which honestly wasn’t much, thanks to my fucked-up lungs. Dr. Bautista jerked his chin to shake his hair out of his eyes, and I couldn’t look away from him. His dark blond hair reminded me of Vail, and I wanted him here right now. Out of everyone, Vail usually supported what I wanted to do. “Aspen, no.” The idea of lying alone, knocked out without the ability to wake up—no matter what was happening around me—made my skin crawl. There would be no way to defend myself. I shook my head. “No.”
Aspen stared at me and his brown eyes glittered as he tipped his head forward to glare better. His black hair gleamed in the sunlight that came through the window.
“No. I won’t.”
After another short stare-off, he turned his attention to the doctor. “He needs this, right?” I didn’t miss the sneaky glance he gave me from the corner of his eye. I flipped him off, and he grunted, shaking his head.
“Oh yeah. Fallon, you’ll be in a bad spot if we don’t do everything we can right now to get this under control.” Dr. Bautista leaned closer to Aspen. “If he was my boyfriend, I would want him to do it.” The fucker gave me a small smile. “I wish I had better news, but it’s something we know how to treat, which is good. If we do everything I am suggesting, your prognosis has a great outcome. All we need to do is... well, do it. Give your lungs the time they need to heal.”
“Fuck this.” I tried to push Aspen off to scoot down the bed, since the side rails were still up, but he gripped my knee, and I stopped when he dug his fingers in. I gasped with the flash of pain in my ribs. “No way. It wasn’t that bad, was it? Maybe there’s another doctor I can talk to?”
Dr. Bautista had one of those wrinkles on his brow, as if he wished more than anything he could do what I wanted, and that kept me from trying to fight my way free. Well, that and the fact I had no doubt Aspen could lay me out if I started swinging my fists, especially with the state I was in right now. Everyone had a real dire vibe, but I didn’t remember my beatdown being that much worse than anything else I’d ever had happen.
Aspen picked up my hand. I stared across the room at the window, and he tightened his fingers on mine until I glanced back his way. “You’re going to listen to the doctor.”
His stern tone hit me the wrong way, and I tried to tug free, but not too hard because let’s be serious, I didn’t want him going anywhere. “Or what?”
His lips thinned. “You want to fuck around and find out?” His low tone sent a shiver down my spine and lifted the hair on my arms.Fuck yes, Daddy.Damn.
“When you say it that way, maybe.” I forced a laugh because I was feeling awkward and turned on—even though my dick was light-years away from getting up with all the medicine pumping through my veins—but that was a bad move because it just hurt.
Aspen snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Amusement glinted in his eyes, and relief swamped me. I never actually wanted to piss him off. Not that I thought he would hurt me, but I’d seen the damage he could cause when he was unhappy.
Sighing, I leaned back against the pillows. “I don’t want to be put to sleep like some back-alley dog. What if I don’t wake up? What if something happens while I’m asleep?”
Aspen’s grip on my hand tightened, and I wished I hadn’t said that last part out loud. I was a Killough man and couldn’t have worries like that. I wasn’t allowed to show fear. “Someone could come in here and—”
“That’s not what we’re doing.” The doctor came closer to Aspen’s side and smiled at me, seeming more genuine this time. “Your lungs need to do as little work as possible to heal. You’re in shape—” He gave me a wink that had Aspen frowning in his direction. “—think of it like you’ve overtrained and need rest for a day or two. We’re going to give your body some help.”
Help. Fallon needs help. Fuck that.The thought burned my ass. “Just like the insulin.” I couldn’t help sounding bitter. I wanted to be strong and healthy and not need fuckinghelp. Every time I thought I was over these feelings something would happen to bring them back to the front of my mind. Vail had encouraged me not to feel like a fuckup because of my body not cooperating, but somewhere inside there was a part of me that always wondered if maybe I’d done something wrong. I knew that was stupid; I had type 1 diabetes, some people got it and I’d drawn the unlucky card.
But it sucked.
“Exactly! Great comparison.” The doctor smiled, popping those dimples.
I sighed. “Is there any way we couldnotdo this?” I tried to take a deep breath to prove I was fine, but all I managed to do was make everything hurt worse.
Aspen shook his head at me.
Dr. Bautista patted my shoulder. “We’ll get you ready in ten. The faster we get this done, the better it will be. I’m sorry, buddy. No one wants to have this happen, but we’ll do our best to keep you healthy and get you patched up.”
Horrified, I watched the doctor walk out of the room, tapping away on his iPad, and I tugged on Aspen’s hand until he leaned down.
“It’ll be okay,” he said.
I shook my head.
“What’s wrong?” He leaned closer and a whiff of his deodorant and fading cologne, mixed with a hint of his natural musk, washed over me. I loved that smell because it was so Aspen. All the guys had their own scent—Vail was sweet, which fit him—but I could pick Aspen out in a dark room, and I wanted him closer. I was scared by what that meant, too. It was okay to want Vail to cuddle me, but Aspen? Was that allowed? My insides were a tense mess.
“Sometimes I worry I’m going to fuck up my insulin, which is why I like the pump. Have you ever heard of an insulin coma? You get fucking sugar in your blood vessels and it murders you. Sugar.” I was spinning out of control but couldn’t stop. “You go into acoma, like what they want to do to me. A fucking coma. You go to sleep and fucking die,” I whispered.
He rubbed his hand over my arm, then tangled our fingers together.
“They know everything they should in your chart.” He glanced at a nurse moving around nearby, opening drawers beside the sink to take things out, which she set on a stainless steel tray on a rolling table.
“But what if I don’t wake up? Between my diabetes and whatever the fuck they’re giving me to knock my ass out, what if I don’t?” He bowed his head and stared at our hands. “Don’t let them do it to me, Aspen. Don’t. You might as well let them take me out back and shoot me.”
