Look at me now.
I was the one who needed reassured.
I hated myself for it, but even that deep loathing couldn’t make me shake the sudden anxiety squeezing my heart.
What if he didn’t know me? What if his father got to him and he, too, sent me away? What if the blue eyes I’d discovered myself in suddenly saw me as a stranger?
“T,” he called to me.
My legs were shaking, but I pretended they weren’t and stepped farther into the room. Staring at him, putting one foot in front of the other until I made it to the end of the bed.
“You need to let the doctor do his job,” he said, trying to ruin this moment. Trying to steal something else from me.
“Do you know me?” I whispered, praying and begging all at the same time.
Drew gestured with his hand, beckoning me closer.
I rushed forward, nearly tripping over my own feet to fulfill his request. The sound of a scuffle broke out behind me, but it was short lived and something I completely ignored.
“You look like shit.”
I nodded. “You look beautiful.”
His body was still completely relaxed against the bed, but his fingers lifted, reaching toward me. “Why you still over there, frat boy?”
A sob broke free from my throat. Lips quivering, I closed the distance between us, reaching out to take his face but hesitating just before contact. “You know me, right? I can touch you?”
“Since when do you have to ask?”
The dam inside me splintered, and emotion I didn’t even know I’d been holding back rushed free.
“Drew.” I wept, gently cupping the sides of his face and leaning in. “I’ve been so fucking crazed,” I confessed, gently resting my forehead against his. The ache in my chest turned into full-blown pain, and if it wasn’t for the emotion leaking out of my eyes, I probably would have exploded.
One of my tears dripped off my face and onto his. His movements were sluggish when he lifted his hand and wiped my cheek. “It’s okay, now, T. Everything’s okay.”
I dropped my head into the side of his neck, letting his words sink in as I weathered the storm of relief.
27
Drew
* * *
I didn’t know much right now. My brain was sluggish. Pain and discomfort radiated throughout my entire body, and even though I was finally awake, haziness clung to the back of my mind.
Even through all that, I sensed the underlying currents vibrating in the room. Tension, anger, and fear tinged the air with unwanted odor.
Trent was openly weeping against my neck. The cool slipperiness of the tears leaking from his eyes slid over my collarbone, and the trembling of his large, usually steady frame unnerved me.
I glanced over him toward my family who was literally crowding the room. Everyone was here, staring at us with mixed expressions of relief and worry.
It must be bad. I must be really hurt.
The doctor cleared his throat. “I need to check the patient.”
Trent sucked in a deep breath and pulled back. “Please go ahead.”
The man cleared his throat and came forward, then turned to face everyone crowding around. “I know it’s a happy moment, but if I could get the room. Once I’m certain there’s nothing needing immediate attention, visitors are welcome back in.”
Toward the back of the room, Hopper, Arrow, Joey, and Lorhaven filed out. I glanced at Romeo and B, who remained rooted in place. Interesting.
My father cleared his throat. “Out! Everyone out.”
Romeo gave me the briefest glance.
It was enough.
Trent turned as if he were going to also vacate the room. I reached for him, though he was a little too far away to touch.
“Where you going, frat boy?”
He stopped and turned back, something shimmering in his eyes.
The doctor, who obviously was aware of whatever the fuck was going on, stepped in. “Drew, would you like Mr. Mask to stay in the room with you?”
What the fuck kind of question was that?
“Yes,” I said, reaching for his hand again. This time, T saw and came forward instantly.
Romeo and Braeden relaxed.
“We’ll be down the hall,” Romeo said, and they left.
I glanced at my parents, noting the dark look on my father’s face. My hackles rose almost immediately. “You can wait outside too.”
“You would have him in here over your own parents?” He accused. “You have no idea how he’s behaved!”
Trent stiffened, and I gave his hand the strongest squeeze I could muster, which honestly was pathetically weak.
“Just go,” I said, growing wearier by the minute.
“We’ll be right outside, honey,” Mom said, offering me a weak smile, then ushering my father out.
The minute they were gone, I looked up at Trent.
He smiled, but it couldn’t hide the look deep in his eyes. A look that pained me more than any physical wound I had.
I wanted to ask, but the doctor took over, shining lights in my eyes and asking so many questions I became frustrated. I wanted answers, not questions.
“What’s wrong with my leg?” I demanded partway through the freaking inquisition. It was propped up by some kind of sling and I was pretty sure it was in a cast, but all I saw was a bunch of obnoxious color.
“The largest bone in your lower leg is broken. We had to perform surgery on it, and now you are in a cast. Because it is the bone that supports your body’s weight, you will likely need to do some physical therapy in a few weeks to help regain your balance and strength.”
I made a sound. “Why the hell does it look like a unicorn threw up all over it?”
The doctor cleared his throat.
“Your toes were cold.” Trent defended.
“You put that there?” I asked, incredulous.
“I wanted to give you a rainbow,” he replied, his voice echoing with pain.
Every ounce of frustration I felt drained away. “In that case, I like it,” I declared.
The lines and creases furrowing Trent’s face softened. Fuck, he looked bad. I’d never seen him look so wrecked.
“Yeah?” he asked, still unsure. “I can go get you the black one.”
“Unicorn throw-up is my new favorite color.” I confirmed.
I’ll be damned if that didn’t make him happy. It was cute as fuck… but it also scared me. Trent wasn’t normally this soft. At least not on the surface.
What have you been through, T?
“How long have I been here?”
“Five days,” the doctor replied.
“Five,” I echoed, trying to comprehend the fact I’d lost five days.
“You spent almost the first four in the intensive care unit and then were moved here.”
“Where’s here?” I asked, glancing around.
“This is actually the labor and delivery wing. We thought it would be a quieter place for you to recuperate.”
My gaze shifted to Trent.
“We were trying to hide you from the press,” he explained.
I yawned, the simple action making me wince.
Trent was there immediately. “What hurts?”
Everything. “My throat. My mouth,” I said, tentatively reaching up to finger the corners of my lips. They felt raw and cracked.
Trent snatched something off the bedside table and uncapped it, dipped his finger in, and brought it to my lips. Slick relief smoothed over the dry areas, making me sigh.
“You will have quite a bit of discomfort for the first few days,” the doctor explained while Trent smoothed the balm over my mouth. “You were on a ventilator, and your throat is probably swollen. I suggest some liquids, but go easy because you may gag at first.”
Trent put aside the stuff and poured a cup of water, holding a straw to my lips. Tentatively, I took a sip. The burst of cool liquid over my tongue and dry mouth was overwhelmingly satisfying, and instinctively, I took another long
swig.
My throat seized up, and the water came spraying back out as I heaved and gagged. Trent pulled his shirt off in a flurry, gently patting all the water off me and dabbing at my chin.
Every cough and heave that shuddered through me made sharp pains stab my chest. Freaking out, I looked at T.
“I got you.” He assured me, sliding his arm under my shoulders and lifting. Automatically, my body gave in to his, allowing him to support my weight as he mopped up the rest of the water. My eyes were tearing from the burning in my throat, and my stomach churned from the force of the gag.
“You’re okay,” Trent whispered. “We’ll take it slow.”
Eventually, the spasms subsided, and I collapsed against him all over again.
“Your skin is warm,” I murmured cuddling into his chest. How long had it been since we’d touched? Suddenly, I felt starved. Utterly denied of the physical contact I relied on just as much as air. If I had the strength, I would have pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him.
“Are you cold?” He fretted. “I’ll get another blanket.”
“No.” I stopped him, tugging him close again. “I want you.”
The doc cleared his throat. I’d forgotten he was there. “It appears that you are doing fine. Brain function seems to be as it should, and there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage.”
“You thought I had brain damage?” I asked, alarmed.
Because T was so close, I heard his thick swallow. “There was some concern.” He hedged.
“I’ll want to run a few more tests, probably do another brain scan, but I’ll give you a while to orient yourself.”
I turned back to T. “How long’s it been since you’ve shaved?” I asked. His entire jaw was covered in stubble.
“Me?” He scoffed. “You have a full-on beard.” Reaching up, he scratched lightly at the thick hair that had grown in.
“The nurse will be in soon, and I’ll get an order in for that scan,” the doctor told us. “Get as much rest as possible. You will probably sleep often, which is completely normal.”
“But he’s out of the coma, right?” Trent worried.
“Yes.” Doc assured us. “If the pain you experience becomes overwhelming, call a nurse and we can up your pain medication. But you should expect discomfort for a while.”
“How’s your chest?” Trent asked, taking his free hand and gently touching the center. He had to be uncomfortable, half leaning over the bed, my body pinning one of his arms against the pillow.
He didn’t complain. Not at all.
“Oh, and one last thing.” The doctor came closer to the bed.
When was this guy going to leave?
The air around T altered as though he was suddenly afraid of whatever the doc would say. Dividing my stare between him and the man in the white coat, I asked, “What?”
“I need to stress the importance of keeping a calm, relaxed atmosphere. I realize that Drew is awake, but stress takes a heavy toll on the body and his injuries are still very new and severe.”
“I understand,” Trent said, serious. So serious that he eased away from me to stand straight and face the doctor. “Drew comes first.”
The doctor nodded, but doubt clouded his features.
I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way he was sort of indirectly scolding my guy. “What’s this about?”
Trent shook his head once. “Nothing to worry about.”
My eyes narrowed, and it caused shooting pain in my skull.
The doctor and Trent still stood there, almost having a silent conversation. Suddenly, Trent’s shoulders slumped.
“Drew?” he asked, his voice low and laced with regret.
“Yeah?”
“The doc needs to have a word with you. I’ll be just outside the door.”
“What?” I echoed, confused.
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he glanced back at the doctor and pressed his lips together.
“Wait.” I called him back.
Two sets of eyes looked at me. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of Trent.”
“I think it’s—”
“Just say it.” I cut off the doctor.
“As a patient, you have certain rights.” He began.
My face scrunched up, sending more shooting pain through my head. Reaching up, I cupped my forehead.
Forgetting he was supposed to be leaving, Trent was at my side immediately, gently cupping the back of my head.
“What’s wrong with me?” I worried.
“You have stitches,” Trent answered gently. “Your helmet busted and cut your head open.”
I leaned into his hand and closed my eyes.
“Drew?”
I reopened them.
“Could you tell the doctor if it’s okay for me to be in the room with you?”
I wanted to laugh, but the look in T’s eyes was far too serious for a joke. The doctor stared, waiting for my decision as if this were some kind of court of law.
“Of course I want Trent in here with me.”
“So you give permission for him, Trent Mask, to be allowed in the room? You don’t feel pressured in any way to agree?”
“What the fuck are you asking me?” I half groaned. Why would anyone think I wouldn’t want him in here?
A shady memory of me wondering where he was and worrying came over me. Was that not a dream? Had that actually happened?
The look on Romeo’s face flashed into my mind. The fact that T wasn’t beside me when I opened my eyes. The fact that he looked like he’d been beaten, robbed, and hung up wet. My parents standing beside the bed…
Oh fucking Christ.
I looked back at Trent, suddenly extremely alarmed, and rasped, “What’d they do to you?”
A look passed behind his eyes, a look he worked very hard to hide.
I hadn’t seen a look like that for many years. Not since we’d struggled to admit our feelings and he was scared of everything he thought his love would take from me. The look he would get when retreating into himself, into a hidden place behind his heart.
“Nothing,” he answered, his voice steady. “Everything’s fine now that you’re awake.”
Anger I didn’t understand gave me strength. I focused back on the doctor. “I want Trent in this room. Trent is my number one.”
“Understood.” The doctor nodded and then left the room.
Finally, we were alone.
But I couldn’t entirely enjoy it because I was freaking the fuck out.
“Trent.”
“Thank you,” he said, stroking the side of my face.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Lay down.” He instructed. “You need to take it easy.”
“I don’t want to lay down. I want answers,” I demanded. The cost of me trying to use my regular voice and not the scratchy, raspy one I was sporting threw me into another fit of gagging.
T did the same as before, tucking his arm and shoulder under me, offering me a place to lean, somehow absorbing the worst of the pain and calming me.
Collapsing against him, I sighed. “I feel like I was hit by a truck.”
“More like a few race cars and a cement wall,” he replied, haunted.
“Lay with me.”
His face drew back so he could stare down. “What?”
“I want you in this bed with me.”
“The IV and your ribs…”
“You’re going to deny the patient?” I pouted.
He melted. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Get over here.”
Instead of coming around to the opposite side of the bed, he went across the room to a duffle bag I hadn’t even noticed and pulled out a shirt.
I shook my head. “Leave it.”
He carried it closer but didn’t put it on.
“You lost weight,” I said, taking in his bare torso.
“So have you.”
I patted the bed.
<
br /> Kicking off his shoes, he gingerly got into the narrow bed, lifting the French fry blanket and covering us both. I settled against him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin, soaking up the warmth he radiated.
Newfound peace washed over me, soothing some of the most intense pain I felt.
“Did you bring this from home?” I asked, glancing at the blanket as he tucked it closer around me.
“I never want to go back there without you again.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, settling just a little more against him. “I’ve put you through a lot.”
“Watch yourself.” He cautioned, his hands hovering around me as I moved. The second I settled, he continued. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault.”
I started to say something, but his lips at my hairline made me forget I was speaking.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said between kisses, then pressed one more. “The only thing I want you worrying about is healing.”
I tried stretching out my arm across his waist, but it hurt and I had to draw back. The huff of irritation turned into a cough.
“Stubborn,” Trent muttered. “Lay still.”
I turned my face into his chest. “I missed you,” I grumped. “And now I can’t get close enough.”
“What’s that?” he asked, leaning his ear closer. “You said you need a human Band-aid?”
I’m pretty sure that’s not what I said, but T shifted so that he basically spooned against my side, gingerly putting an arm across my waist, clearly knowing where all my injuries were because he avoided them. His jean-clad leg rested over mine, and his face was so close his nose bumped my cheek.
“Is this close enough?” he whispered against my ear.
Tingles broke out across my scalp. Grasping his arm, I smiled. “For now.”
28
Trent
* * *
Out in the hall, the peanut I’d met was quiet.
Inside this room, Drew was awake and in my arms.
I wanted to revel in the moment as long as humanly possible. I never wanted to let this feeling go.
No, nothing was perfect. Far from it.
But everything was okay.
It was enough.
More than enough.
#Fate Page 14