Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

SAM

To say Sam was humiliated would be an understatement. Not only had he suffered a stupid seizure in the fucking snow, but instead of contacting the one person who understood what he was going through, he’d texted Oscar instead. The guy Christian had been wanting him to meet.

Great first impression.

Sam wanted to tear his hair out. After a seizure, his body hurt and his emotions were a mess. He’d be unnaturally angry until he got some rest. Once he arrived at the hospital, they’d made him put a hospital gown on because not only were his clothes soaked, but they wanted to examine him and make sure he hadn’t hurt himself.

“I’m fine,” Sam told the nurse. He was familiar with plenty of the nurses by now, from different trips to the emergency room over the years. “Jen, please, I just want to get out of here.”

Jen gave him a sympathetic smile. “Maybe in a bit. You know the drill. Your neurologist wants to have a look at you first.”

Sam flopped back against his pillows. “Is he even here? Or do we have to wait for him to show up? With my luck, he’s probably on some kind of ski vacation in the Alps or whatever and I’ll have to wait for him to come back from Switzerland.”

At his feet, Ace turned his head, looking away from Sam as if he too had heard enough of Sam complaining.

“Sorry.”

Jen smiled at him, less sympathetic this time and more like she thought his emotional turmoil was amusing.

“It’s fine, Sam. At least there’s a reason you’re so surly. You’ll be better after you get some rest. Why don’t you lay back and try to get a couple minutes in while I see what’s going on with the neurologist?”

As if he had a choice. Sam huffed quietly to himself and closed his eyes. As exhausted as he was, sleep wasn’t going to come yet. But at least if he was pretending to rest, no one would bother him. And he wouldn’t bite their heads off. It was a win-win.

Sam hated having seizures and he’d always blamed his anger afterward on the fact that he hated having them to begin with when, in reality, it was just an unfortunate side effect of his wonky brain chemistry. There was no cure for his emotional upheaval after except for rest. But hospitals were the opposite of restful. Everyone was talking. Shoes squeaked back and forth constantly. And if he did manage to sleep, it was never long before they were poking him awake for one reason or another.

“Knock knock.”

Sam popped an eye open to the sound of a vaguely familiar voice.

Oscar poked his head in the curtained-off bay before slipping inside. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam didn’t flinch at his grumpy tone of voice. Things with Oscar had already been ruined. He’d already seen Sam at his worst, so why bother trying to smooth things over.

“I pocketed your phone by mistake.” Oscar held up a bag that was clearly too big to contain just a phone. “And I brought you some dry clothes. Sweat pants, dry socks, and a sweater.”

Oscar approached the bed and glanced at Ace. “Is he still on duty or can I pet him?”

Sam’s heart softened. Oscar wasn’t a bad guy. Christian was right about him being Sam’s type too. It just sucked that now he’d never see Sam as anything except the guy he’d fished out of the snow.

“You can pet him. His name is Ace.”

“Hey, Ace.” Oscar held his hand out and waited for Ace to sniff it before petting him.

“I didn’t know your size, so I hope everything fits.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll give you a minute to change, if you’re allowed.”

Sam smirked. “I’d like to see them stop me.”

“Did you want anything to eat or drink?”

“I’m not hungry, but some apple juice wouldn’t be unappreciated.” Whenever Sam was in a hospital, he wanted apple juice. It was the only place he drank the stuff. There was something about the hospital that made the overly sweet juice palatable.

“One apple juice coming up.” Oscar set the bag on the bed and slipped out through the curtain. His departure was so sudden it was almost hard to believe he’d been here to begin with. Were it not for the bag of clothes, Sam might have convinced himself that he’d dreamed up the whole thing.

The sweats Oscar had brought were brand new, as were the socks. The tags had been removed, but they had that new clothes smell to them. Sam had just finished dressing and getting back into bed when Jen returned.

“I see your friend found you.” Jen’s eyes sparkled. “He’s very cute.” She fussed with his blankets, pulling them over his legs.

“There, don’t you look cozy now. Your neurologist is on his way down.” She slipped out of the room again.

Oscar returned a minute later with a bottle of apple juice and a cup of water.

“Here you go. One apple juice. And for the four-legged friend down here, we have water.” Oscar popped the lid off the cup of water and held it for Ace, who lapped it straight out of the cup. “That’s a good boy.”

“Thank you.” Sam cleared his throat and tried to keep the lump of emotion from building up in it. After a seizure, first there was Angry Sam. And once he was done, he vanished all at once, leaving room for Emotional Sam to take his place. The sooner he could sleep it off, the better.

It just sucked that Oscar was so perfect and Sam had made the worst ever first impression.

“It was no trouble. How are you feeling?”

“Oh, you know.” Sam made a random gesture with his free hand. “I’m fine,” he squeaked out, his voice cracking. He turned his attention to his apple juice and tried to open it. But either he was too weak, or too shaky, or the lid was on too tight, because he couldn’t get it to open.

Without a word, Oscar reached over and held the bottle still, his warm hand closing over Sam’s. Oscar cracked the bottle of juice open like it was no big deal.

“Fuck,” Sam said. He tried to dash the stupid tear away before Oscar saw it. “Fucking hell.”

“Sam? What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t look Oscar in the eyes or he’d lose it completely and he was already hanging on by a thread. “I wasn’t even going to call you, and that has nothing to do with you. It’s all me, why I wasn’t going to call you. But then I did, and it was an accident, but you came anyway, and you’re so nice, and now I’m sad that I wasn’t going to call you, and I ruined everything.” Sam sucked in a deep breath. He hadn’t meant to blurt all that out.

“Can I sit?” Oscar asked, patting the space of bed next to Sam.

He shuffled over a little, making room.

“Sam, I have a confession to make. I wanted Christian to give you my number. You have no idea how much convincing it took. I saw you and thought wow, he’s cute. And then I saw you and Christian one day and I asked him who you were. You should’ve seen the little scowl on his face. He’s protective of you. He wouldn’t give me your number, and he wouldn’t give you mine until he was convinced that I was honestly interested. He didn’t want to see you hurt, and I don’t want to see you hurt either. So I’m going to put myself out there and say… Sam, I’ve had a crush on you for months. Nothing has been ruined.”

Sam looked up at Oscar, mostly to see if he was hallucinating. But Oscar was sitting next to him, his hip pressed against Sam’s thigh. Solid and warm.

“A crush? On me?”

Oscar had the prettiest smile. Straight white teeth, a bit of scruff, pretty pink lips that looked nice and full. “A crush, Sam. On you.”

“I—”

“Sam, if it isn’t my favorite patient.” Dr. Calder, Sam’s neurologist, walked into the room. His tie today was a SpongeBob SquarePants one. He usually stuck to cartoon ties. Dr. Calder’s gaze drifted over to Oscar. “And friend. Hi, Sam’s friend. I’m going to have to ask you to come back in a few minutes. I have things to discuss with Sam.”

“Will I be getting out of here today?” Sam knew the answer by the look in the doc’s eyes.

“Sorry, Sam. Not tonight. But tomorrow, most likely. I want to keep you overnight for observation.”

Sam flopped back against his pillows. He squeezed his eyes shut, then forced himself to open them again. “Thanks for the sweats.”

“I’ll call you, okay? Or you can call me. Or text. Anytime.”

Oscar reached over and gave Ace a scratch between the ears, which made Sam feel insanely jealous. Which then made him feel stupid for being jealous of his dog.

“Okay,” Sam managed to croak out. He tried to smile, but his face wouldn’t cooperate.

Once Oscar was gone, it was like the energy drained out of Sam. “I’m tired,” he told Dr. Calder.

“You can sleep in a bit. Your room upstairs is ready and Jen will be by in a minute to take you up there. We’re just going to monitor you overnight. If all goes well, I’ll be by in the morning and you can go home.”

Sam fumbled with his phone and tried to get it to turn on, but the battery was dead. “I need to call Christian.”

“You rang?” Christian’s head appeared through the curtain. “Hey, Doc. How’s it going? Are you going to spring him tonight?”

Christian strode straight over to Sam and pulled him into a tight hug. “Oscar called me. I’d have been here sooner, but there was a traffic accident we had to detour around.”

“I’m staying the night.” Sam hated the warble in his voice. He was a wrung-out dish towel with no control over his mouth or his emotions. “I hate this place.”

“I know you do.”

“Can you take Ace home with you? I don’t want him stuck here with me all night. He should be home and off duty. He’ll need to pee and eat and Oscar brought him water.”

“I’ll take him home. After we get you upstairs and tucked in for the night.”

“I’ll see you upstairs, Sam.” Dr. Calder slipped out of the room to give them a bit of privacy. Christian and Sam knew him well. He was the neurologist both of them saw, Sam on a more regular basis now than Christian.

Sam sucked in a deep breath. He was about to tell Christian how he ruined everything with Oscar, when Christian started to speak.

“I ran into Oscar on the way in. He told me to convince you that he’s still interested in you. He’s not been scared off.”

Sam scoffed. Maybe he’d believe it after a dozen or so hours of sleep. But until then, Sam was too tired to be hopeful.