Chapter 28
twenty-eight
. . .
Amelia
After two days in the hospital, Jason is cleared to fly home, and we board a charter flight back to Boston.
I went back to the hotel to shower and sleep—at his insistence—and otherwise, spent every waking hour at his bedside.
I think he’s getting a little sick of me.
Three days of togetherness with all the pain he’s in isn’t easy to deal with.
Dr. Iglesias says everything looks great. He’ll be in a cast for a few weeks before he can try putting weight on it again, but for now, all he can do is rest.
Right now, we’re sitting side-by-side on the jet. I wanted my own seat to give him space, but he insisted we share the bench seat. He pulled me close, wrapped his arm around me, and promptly fell asleep.
We won’t have very many moments like this in the immediate future.
I’m sure the guys will troop in and out of his apartment, ready to help and entertain him.
What will he do when the guys are on road trips?
There’s nobody else on the Injured Reserve list right now, and hopefully, it stays that way. But he’ll be alone even more.
Zac prefers not to travel with the team since his kids are so young, so he’ll probably take the lead on Jason’s PT.
I’d volunteer to do it, but it’s not a good idea for a laundry list of reasons.
I’d much rather be his girlfriend than his punching bag, and coming back from this injury will tax him in ways he hasn’t considered yet.
I’ve already texted Tyler, who delivered a full fridge of food to Jason’s apartment.
I also arranged for our cleaning crew to go in and do a deep clean.
Even though he has a cleaning crew of his own, I don’t think it occurred to him to schedule them, so I took the liberty of arranging it.
I don’t want to micromanage his life; I only want to make this recovery as smooth as possible for him.
Jason jerks awake, his entire body jolting. I pat his chest, trying to soothe him.
“What time is it?” he mumbles.
“We have about an hour and a half left.” Time zones have no meaning in the air.
“Fuck. I had the weirdest dream.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“I was reading.” It’s hard for me to fall asleep on planes, which is not great when half my life is on the road.
“I just want to be home,” he groans, adjusting his ankle, which is propped on the seat across from us. “I want to take a shower and crawl into my own bed.”
Swallowing, I ask the question I’ve avoided. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
He squints at me. “You’re not talking about sexy times, are you?”
I shake my head. “Do you want me to stay over and help take care of you?”
Jason scowls. “I’m not an invalid.”
“No, but you’re on crutches for the foreseeable future. I don’t mind staying. But we’ll need to have a story ready.”
“I wish it was for some sexy times,” he grumbles.
Right now, he’s on so many pain meds, it’s out of the question. I don’t think he could get it up, if he tried.
I pat his chest. “As soon as you’re off the meds, I’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t need taking care of.” He huffs petulantly. “I’m fine.”
“I was talking about a blowjob. But if you don’t want one…” I pull my hand away from his pec.
He takes my hand, flattening it against his abs. “I didn’t say that.”
Hiding my smile against his chest, I burrow further into his side. “Your leg might be fucked, but I can still ride you. Just means we have to be careful.”
His hand cups my face, catching my chin between his thumb and his forefinger. He tilts my face up until he can kiss me, his mouth devouring mine.
“You can ride me right now. The flight attendant isn’t watching.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Not until you’re off the pain meds.”
Grumbling under his breath, he tightens his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. A grown man pouting shouldn’t be this cute.
Then again, there isn’t much he could do that I wouldn’t find adorable.
I only want him to feel better. It might take a while before he finds himself again, but I’ll be by his side the entire time—whether he likes it or not.
Three days later, and he doesn’t like it. Not one bit.
“I’m going stir crazy here,” he snaps. “I need to get out. I need to move.”
“We can walk down the hallway again,” I suggest.
Jason makes a face.
“Look, it’s twelve degrees outside, and icy as fuck. The last thing you need is to slip and injure yourself worse,” I point out. “I can drive you to the practice facility if you want to hang out with the guys.”
He scowls. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
I blow out a breath. “I know you don’t. I’m offering. I have to run some errands, anyway, so I don’t mind driving you over.”
He’s off the pain meds, and his right leg is fine, so in theory he can drive, but his mobility is still impaired. Getting in and out of the car with crutches is difficult.
“Fine,” he grumbles. Heaving himself off the couch, he crutches his way into the bedroom. From my spot on the sofa, I watch as he drops his athletic shorts, his soft cock hanging between his legs as he struggles into a pair of boxer briefs and then a pair of joggers.
We haven’t had sex yet. For all his eagerness on the plane, I gave him a hand job yesterday that turned into him pushing my hand away, not able to cross the finish line. I’m struggling not to take it personally.
He’s in pain, especially now that he’s off the meds, but I can’t help feeling rejected. The rational part of my brain knows he has a lot going on right now, but it doesn’t stop those negative, self-conscious thoughts from creeping in.
Once he’s changed into a team long-sleeved shirt and a zip-up hoodie, he slips his right foot into his shoe, looking at me expectantly.
Grabbing my coat and purse, I follow him out the door, the electronic lock securing automatically. We take the elevator down to the lobby, and I leave him there as I hurry to my building’s parking garage, pulling the car around the front for him.
Morning skate is over, and the guys are settling in for tape review right about now. It’s my day off, so even if I wanted to hang out with the team, I have some things to take care of. Things I’ve been avoiding.
I drop Jason off at the entrance to the facility and wait until he’s safely inside before pulling out, driving across town to the bookstore Vanessa recommended.
It’s a small brick building in an old neighborhood, cutesy and cozy. There’s a coffee cart in front of the shop, manned by a woman with a teal streak in her hair. I order a latte and browse through the store, taking it all in.
“Can I help you?” A curvy woman wearing a purple smock approaches, her dark eyes friendly. She wears her chocolate brown hair in a wavy style, and has a gold hoop through her nose. My eyes flick down to her name tag. SADIE. Just the person I was looking for.
“Vanessa and Jared said I should come introduce myself,” I say. “I’m Amelia, a physical therapist with—”
“Oh, you work for the Grizzlies!” Sadie says. “Van told me all about you.”
I gulp. “Good things?”
“Based on your Tbr, yeah, you’ll fit right in here,” she says, a bright smile on her face.
She’s dating the team’s sports analyst, Jared Aviyente. When he saw me with my Kindle for the third time in three days, he suggested I reach out to Sadie about her book club. Vanessa overheard and agreed. She’s been a member for years, and even Robby has come to a few meetings.
“I’m not good at… this.” I wave my hand in the air. “Making friends.” I pause. “Making friends with women.”
To my surprise, Sadie grins. “That makes sense, especially given the hyper-masculine work environment. And Van said you have two brothers?”
“Well, one and his husband. But when I say I have two brothers who are married to each other, people get weirded out,” I grin.
“Oh, we’re going to get along so well,” she says. “Come on to the back of the shop, and I’ll show you where we set up for book club.”
She launches into a spiel about the group of people who get together twice monthly for book club.
Most of them are neurodivergent, but everyone is included regardless of disability.
Rachel and Audrey, married to the two goaltenders, are both part of the book club, as is Hailey, MacGregor’s sister.
Gonzo’s sister-in-law, Viv, is a member, too.
“We used to meet only once a month, but we found too many people had scheduling conflicts, so we opened it up to twice a month. BYOB—bring your own booze, not boyfriend.” Sadie snickers. “We had an issue with that once.”
“I don’t know how often I’ll make it. Between home games and road trips…”
“You’ll come when you can,” she says, patting my arm. “Van doesn’t make it to every meetup, either. We know the score. Work comes first. It has to.”
“So, we all read one book every two weeks?” I can do that, easy peasy.
Sadie shakes her head. “We don’t have assigned reading. It’s more of a social club where we talk about romance books and what we like and dislike. We hang out, we drink a little, snack a little, and at the end of the night, you hopefully leave with your well recharged.”
I blink at her. “My well?”
“Social battery, people meter, whatever metaphor you use. You can’t draw from an empty well; you have to refill it from time to time with the things that make you feel relaxed and at peace with yourself.
That’s our goal, to make you take a moment to pause and appreciate all the things you enjoy about your life. ”
“I like that,” I admit. “I’ve been… well, it’s been a rough few days.”
She clucks sympathetically. “It’ll get better.”
Shrugging, I admit, “Yeah, but it’ll take longer than I’d like.”
“Anything I can do to help? Or anyone else?”
I shake my head. “Some things just take time.”
Sadie pats my arm again. “Well, there’s nothing a good book can’t cure. Now tell me, how do you feel about grumpy-sunshine?”
My thoughts drift to my scowling hockey player. He’s extra scowly these days, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it; this is natural after an injury.
“Sign me the fuck up. I want all the books.”
I let her lead me through the store, and before long, I’ve picked up four new paperbacks, plus a list of others to add to my Kindle. She also extracted a promise that I’d join the book club at their meetup next Thursday, since it happens to be my night off.
It’s time to put down roots. I’m staying in Boston; it’s time to start acting like it.