“Hey, man. Thanks for driving.”
Tanner shot him a warm smile as he backed out to the edge of the driveway, then asked for their destination to put into his GPS.
“He’s at St. Mary’s near the university campus,” Lance said. Tanner entered the location and headed for the interstate.
Tanner didn’t press him for information about what happened. Instead, he searched for a soft rock station and set the volume on low, trying to soothe Lance’s nerves while also allowing for conversation.
About 20 minutes into the trip, Lance finally began talking about Parker’s accident as he gazed out his window.
“They were driving back from football practice. It was the last one of the semester. His buddy who was driving turned left at a light, but he didn’t have right-of-way, and they got hit head on by a big SUV. Apparently, Parker was unconscious at the scene. He’s in stable condition now but still unconscious. He’s scheduled for a CT scan and an MRI. There could be internal bleeding, but it’s too soon to tell. Hopefully we’ll know more by the time we get there.” Lance shared what he’d been told over the phone by hospital personnel. He was unnaturally calm as he spoke, still shell-shocked from the news.
“He’s in the best hands, then,” Tanner said, reassuringly.
“Right,” Lance replied, with a slight nod. But he looked unconvinced.
Tanner reached over to place his right hand on Lance’s thigh and squeezing gently.
“It’ll be okay, Lance. Kid’s as strong as an ox.”
Lance nodded once more, but turned back to the window quickly, trying to hide the tears of anxiety sliding down his cheeks. Tanner pretended not to see them, and silence fell once again.
Tanner dropped Lance off at the main entrance of the hospital and headed for the visitor parking lot. When he returned, he searched for the waiting area, where he found Lance slumped sideways in a chair in the back corner.
“Any news yet?”
Lance looked up in surprise as if not realizing he was standing there.
“None, unfortunately.” Lance sighed and leaned his head back, sounding discouraged. “I’m such a mess. He’s just—I kind of raised him, you know, so it’s—” he shook his head and wiped the pooling tears from his eyes, avoiding Tanner’s gaze.
“Lance, it’s me you’re talking to. You watched me have a meltdown over a stack of pancakes at the diner. You’re definitelynota mess. Besides, he’s your brother. I get it,” he assured him, with a nod. He squeezed Lance’s shoulder, unsure why he needed to touch him, but he couldn’t help it. If he’d followed his instincts, he’d have wrapped his arms around the man and held on tightly. He wanted Lance to let him help shoulder this burden. He owed Lance that much, and lots more too.
“I’m sorry I brought you here. You must be fucking sick of hospitals,” Lance said with a choked laugh.
“Technically, I’m the one who forced you to let me come here with you. Besides, as long as I’m not the one in the assless gown stuck living on orange Jell-O and tapioca pudding, I’m just fine,” he assured Lance with a wink and a smile. Lance snorted and wiped his nose with his shirtsleeve. His gaze was filled with affection as he looked directly into Tanner’s eyes. It often was, but there was definitely something more to it now—a certain—depth of meaning and intensity that Tanner had never seen before. That meaningful look tugged at something tightly wound in his gut and made his heart pound, causing an echoing and increasingly familiar feeling that Tanner had yet to name.
“In any case, thank you for being here.” Lance smiled with affection and gratitude.
Tanner gave him a quick nod, his throat so tight with suppressed emotions that he couldn’t speak.
“Mr. Kingsley?” A nurse in pink scrubs called out from the doorway.
“Yes?” he replied, turning to face her. She was smiling, so that was a huge relief. She wouldn’t be smiling if she had bad news to deliver.
“Your brother is fully stabilized and is resting comfortably. If you’ll follow me, I can show you to his room. He’s been drifting in and out of consciousness, but the doctor would like to meet with you,” she said, holding the door open for him. He was halfway across the room before glancing back to find that Tanner had remained seated.
“You coming?” Lance looked at him expectantly.
“I can wait here—” Tanner offered, not wanting to intrude on their reunion.
Lance shook his head.
“Please come,” he said, and Tanner couldn’t refuse, not after seeing that expression of raw need on Lance’s face.
Parker’s resemblance to Lance was startling: the same classic jaw line, aquiline nose, and brilliant blue eyes. His hair was a shade darker than Lance’s, but it had the same curly texture. He was sleeping peacefully, and the only thing attached to him was an IV for fluids.
“The doctor will come by in a minute,” the nurse said and closed the door behind her.
“You guys could be twins,” Tanner observed as he compared their features.
