A corner of her mouth lifts. Soft surprise floats through my chest. The hand on my wrist disappears. Billie looks across from me, and I force my gaze to follow. Carys carefully walks to the door of the hospital room, her eyes flicking from Billie to me and then back.
“Are you sure?” Billie asks in response to some kind of silent communication.
Carys nods. “Take all the time you need.” Her eyes lock on mine, and then I feel her hesitant hope along with relief. “I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.”
Billie leans forward, perching her arm on the bed’s railing. I want to fill the silence, want to tell her how much I still love her and want her. That I know about her and Carys and want all of us to figure this out together. But I hold it all back, waiting for her to break the silence.
She’s the one who asked for space.
“They don’t think you sustained any damage to your spine,” she says after a minute, “or have a concussion which is really lucky. It was a terrifying fall.”
“You saw it?”
She nods and rests her head on her arm, lightly tracing the bandage covering the IV in my arm. A tear slides down her cheek. I carefully wipe it away with my free hand. She leans into the touch, and I shudder out a breath.
“I didn’t think they’d show it on television. Networks get nervous about showing medical stuff like that.”
“I don’t know if it was shown on the broadcast,” she admits. She traces my thumb, drawing shapes on the inside of my wrist. “That kid is an asshole. Marley’s already texted me. They’ve read him the riot act apparently. He didn’t realize who you were, I guess.”
I can’t shrug, so I try to convey through our bond how much he doesn’t bother me. Her lips twist as she feels my lack of worry and then she chuckles.
“Just like you to need three transfusions and not be concerned that the guy who caused the whole mess didn’t even get a penalty for the cross-check.”
“Transfusion?”
“Three of them. When you fell, you landed in the exact wrong spot. Peter cut up your neck when he tried to move and clear the puck.”
“Damn,” I mutter. “That explains the fuzzy feeling in my head.” And then I start piecing every together a bit better. “You were at the game?”
She nods, breathing in more raggedly this time. “To talk to Carys. To tell her I wanted to have you both if I could, if I hadn’t burned the bridge after I refused while you were in Florida.”
My stomach clenches. I wipe another sliding tear away, and she looks up at me.
“She said it was up to you.”
“Up to me?”
She nods once, her cheek brushing against my arm. Nerves flow across our bond.
“It’s never been up to me,” I say softly. “It’s been your choice. Whatever you want, I’m willing to live with.”
She looks down at where she’s touching my hand, her fingers light as a feather.
“I said I needed space to figure things out,” she says after a minute. “I don’t know if I really have. I felt guilty for being attracted to her and then didn’t know how to handle that you knew she was your scent match. I was… Mostly, I was angry at myself for not trusting you enough to tell you that I was having feelings for her.” She traces a vein up my arm. “And then when Carys said she couldn’t handle another secret relationship, Ipanicked. I just… froze. What if I’m a really shitty pack Beta and the fallout is seen by the entire hockey world? But that’s just me being scared again. And I don’t want to be scared. You taught me to be brave three years ago when you bought me that drink. And I want to be brave now, too.”
I make sure she can feel my love for her. Her smile is softer now, not that carefully guarded mask.
“You were brave before me, Bee. I remember you that night.”
More emotion flows through the bond.
“We need to make sure Rhett’s on board, too,” I say. “Being in a pack is a lot different from being a pair. We’ll need to make sure we establish boundaries and expectations and be willing to talk through all of the jealousy that’s bound to crop up.”
She nods and squeezes my hand.
“I know. I want to try. I’m… probably not going to be all that great at communicating like that,” she admits, pink staining her cheeks. “But I’ll work on it. And the bond helps with that, too.”
There’s a knock on the door. Billie looks to the door without sitting up, her constant contact soothing the part of me that wants to protect and provide for her.
