“Well, hello.” A cheerful nurse in pink scrubs and a ponytail bustles in with a laptop on a cart. “How are we feeling, Mr. Axford? Mind if I check your vitals? I’ve got some acetaminophen for you, and I figured you might need to use the restroom.”
She’s not wrong. Unfortunately, getting me upright and walking is a complicated, painful process that requires Robbie to lend an arm… or, to my chagrin,two.
I ignore his eye roll and huff when I insist on him leaving once I’m safely in the bathroom.
By the time the nurse leaves a little while later, all I cando is lie back on my pillow, feeling genuinely fucking exhausted and more than a little sorry for myself.
I pluck at the blanket with the fingers of my left hand. “You know, if I did something bad or embarrassing while under the influence, you’re required to tell me. It’s in the friendship rule book. It’s not fair that I don’t have Hippyottermus here to compel you.”
“Right.” Robbie sinks into the chair. “Because you tell me everything.”
“I… I mean…” I open my mouth, then close it like I’m a very large fish. “Pretty much everything, yeah. Eventually.” With one large exception.
Blip-blip-blip-blip.
He glances at the machine and snorts tiredly. “I pinky promise, Ames, you didn’t do or say anything embarrassing, okay?”
“Okay.” I exhale a little in relief. “Good.”
“Your rendition of ‘Let It Go’ was a musicaltriumph, and you shouldn’t be embarrassed in the slightest. There wasn’t a dry eye in the whole Emergency Room. They talked about inviting you back for a Christmas Spectacular.”
I gape at him. “What? I don’t even know the words to?—”
Robbie snickers, and when he sees my horror, he laughs harder. I can’t even be mad because there’s so much fatigue and relief in the sound, and it lifts my heart to hear it.
He leans his forehead against my left hip. “Sorry.”
“You’re an asshole,” I inform him, tugging his hair as punishment… though it’s possible that it’s morestrokingthan tugging, and that I’m grinning while I do it.
The man did save my life, after all.
Eventually, Robbie scoots back in his seat, but the laughter seems to have lifted some lingering tension or worry.
“Your mom and dad went home a few hours ago, but they’ll be back later,” he tells me. “Eliza dropped by before the clinic opened. True texted to get my coffee order, so I think he’ll be here in a bit too. Wilder said he’s going to FaceTime later. And Holden’s taking night shift with you after work, if you’re not already discharged by then.”
“Nobody trusts me to stay in bed,” I grumble, though the reminder that they care makes my heart squeeze.
He shrugs. “No shit. They know you. Besides, you didn’t want to be alone, so we’re making sure you aren’t.”
I frown.I didn’t want to be alone? When did I say that?The giant bruise formerly known as my brain is still trying to parse this when there’s a knock on the door.
Auden stands in the doorway, shuffling his feet and holding a little vase of flowers.
“H-hey, Ames. Sorry. Maybe I should’ve waited for you to call, but—” He rushes to my side. “I was so worried, I had to come over here during my free period, just to be sure you were okay.” He leans down like he’s going to kiss me.
I turn my head at the last second, and his lips catch my cheek instead, but even that jostles my collarbone, and I wince.
“Careful!” Robbie barks.
“Oh, god, sorry!” Auden pulls back immediately. “God, I’m so stupid. Of course you’re in pain.”
“I’m okay,” I assure him. “No damage done.”
“Thank goodness.” He goes around the bed and setsthe flowers on the windowsill, keeping a safe distance from Robbie for some reason. “These are for you.”
“They’re pretty. Thank you.” I wish I could be jokey or charming to ease his worry, but I’m exhausted to my bones. Every breath hurts, and my head pounds.
Robbie’s watching Auden with an expression I can’t quite read. Not quite hostile, but definitely not friendly.
