Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
Sam showed up a little after I did and offered to go pick up Mason and bring him to the hospital.
We stayed there until visiting hours were over. The doctors came and went, nurses checked vitals, and we sat in uncomfortable chairs watching Abby’s grandmother sleep, her breathing shallow and labored.
The whole time, Abby had a hollow look on her face like she was stuck in a nightmare she couldn’t get out of.
Her normally bright eyes were dull and distant, her shoulders hunched forward as if carrying a physical weight.
She kept rubbing her grandmother’s hand, occasionally whispering something I couldn’t hear.
I didn’t know what to say, but I hoped my presence provided some comfort, so she knew she wasn’t alone.
“I need to go home with Mason,” she said when the nurse finally came to tell us visiting hours were ending. Her grandma had woken up briefly toward the end, but hadn’t had much strength to talk before she fell asleep again from the painkillers they had her on.
“I’ll drive you guys,” I told her. I had no intention of leaving her side. Even if it meant I had to get up extra early for practice tomorrow. The thought of her facing this alone made my chest ache. Not to mention, I didn’t think she was any state to drive right now.
I was considering calling Coach and telling him I couldn’t make practice due to a family emergency.
I didn’t like the thought of Abby being at Gram’s or at the hospital to deal with everything by herself.
I knew she wouldn’t lean on Mason because she was already worried about him, but she deserved to have someone there so she wasn’t carrying all the weight of this situation on her shoulders.
It was bad form for the captain to be MIA.
But I’d finally found something—someone—that was more important to me than hockey.
And I wouldn’t let her face this alone.
I drove Abby and Mason back to Gram’s house, the headlights cutting through the darkness as we navigated the quiet country road.
Mason had been in a daze since we’d left the hospital.
He was beating himself up for not realizing the severity of the situation, even though I’d heard Abby tell him multiple times that it wasn’t his fault their Gram was in this condition.
He’d shoved his earbuds in once we got in the car, his face turned toward the window. As soon as we walked into the house, he went straight to his room and closed the door with a quiet click that somehow seemed more concerning than if he’d slammed it.
I was worried about him, but I was most worried about Abby.
“Why don’t you head upstairs and I’ll find us something to eat?” I suggested, squeezing her hand gently.
She nodded but didn’t speak as she walked woodenly up the stairs, her hand gripping the banister like she needed the support to keep from collapsing.
After searching the fridge and cupboards, I found some bottles of water, bananas, and crackers. It wasn’t a gourmet meal, but I didn’t think Abby or Mason had much of an appetite. Still, they needed to eat something, even if just to keep their strength up for the difficult days ahead.
I stopped at Mason’s room first—which was easy enough to find because it had a football and some band stickers on the door. I knocked softly.
“Mason? I brought you some water and food.”
When he didn’t respond, I knocked harder, until finally he opened the door, one of his ear buds in his hand.
“I thought you might want some snacks.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled before taking them and closing the door again.
When I got to Abby’s room, I found her standing in the center, arms wrapped around herself.
The space was dimly lit by a small bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the walls.
It wasn’t as decorated as I expected, which I supposed made sense—this hadn’t been her childhood bedroom.
She’d told me she lived in a different house until her mom died.
As I walked closer, I realized she was shaking. It was probably the shock and drop of adrenaline from the day.
I’d never lost a loved one, and now Abby was about to lose the third parent figure she’d had. I felt helpless to ease her pain. All I could do was be here and yet that didn’t feel like enough.
I set down the water and snacks on her desk and then wrapped my arms around her. Her body was cold despite the warmth of the room, and she felt fragile in a way I’d never seen her before. She hugged me back and pressed her cheek against my chest.
“What do you need?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I rubbed her back.
“You,” she whispered, her voice breaking on that single word. She looked up at me, her brown eyes begging me. “I need you to make me forget—even if just for a little while.”
“Abby—” I started, uncertain.
Her arms tightened around my waist, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt. “Please, Foster.” The desperation in her voice made my heart clench.
I knew sex wouldn’t take away her pain, but I couldn’t bear the thought of her feeling rejected when I knew how scared and lost she felt.
Leaning down, I placed a gentle kiss against her lips. She responded immediately, pressing herself closer, her mouth seeking mine with an urgency that spoke of her need to feel something—anything—other than the pain that threatened to consume her.
I kissed her deeply, trying to pour all the love I felt for her into that connection. My hands moved to frame her face, thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall silently down her cheeks.
“I’m here,” I whispered against her lips. “I’ve got you.”
She clung to me, her fingers digging into my back as if she were afraid I’d disappear.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
I deepened the kiss, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. She opened for me, her own tongue meeting mine in a dance that was both desperate and tender.
I pulled back slightly, needing to see her face. Her eyes were closed, lashes wet with tears, but a faint flush colored her cheeks. “Are you sure?” I asked, my voice rough with a combination of desire and concern.
She nodded, her eyes opening, a raw vulnerability in their depths that tore at me. “I need this, Foster. I need you.”
I kissed her again, a promise in that kiss, a vow to be whatever she needed me to be in this moment. I lifted her into my arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently before following her, my body hovering over hers.
The bedside lamp cast a soft glow over her skin, highlighting the curve of her neck and the delicate line of her collarbone. Her pulse fluttered beneath my lips as I pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.
She reached up, her fingers threading through my hair, pulling me back to her mouth. We kissed again, deep and unrelenting, like we were trying to memorize the feel of each other.
I reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, revealing the lacy bra beneath.
My gaze lingered there, admiring the small swell of her breasts, before moving back to her face.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dark with something that looked like the way I felt—raw, reverent, and completely undone.
I unclasped her bra, letting it slip away as I kissed my way down.
When I took one of her nipples into my mouth, her back arched off the bed and a soft moan escaped.
Her hands gripped my shoulders and her nails dug into my skin when I moved to the other breast, lavishing the same attention on it, until a soft cry came from her lips.
Fuck, I loved the sounds she made.
My hand moved lower until I reached the waistband of her jeans. I quickly unbuttoned them and slid them over her butt and down her legs. By the time I’d stripped her bare, my hard cock was pushing painfully against my own jeans and desperate to be let out.
I grabbed a condom and shed the last of my clothes, too desperate to care where they landed.
Once the condom was on, I crawled onto the bed, positioning myself between Abby’s gorgeous legs.
Her arousal glistened in the light and I couldn’t stop myself from tasting her.
My mouth covered her clit, sucking teasingly as her flavor burst on my tongue.
I loved the breathy moan that escaped her throat at my ministrations.
If she wanted out of her head, I knew what would work the fastest. I repositioned myself so I could lie flat and wrapped my arms around her thighs, hugging her tight as I licked and sucked her clit until she was a panting mess on the bed.
Her thighs shook around my ears, and her hands gripped the sheet as an orgasm racked her body.
I lapped at her clit once more before I kissed my way up her body and positioned my cock at her entrance. “You still want this?”
Her eyes met mine and she nodded. “More than anything.”
Without another word, I slid inside her, stretching her as I went. Dropping my head to her shoulder, I let out a groan. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.”
She felt so good—so perfect—pulsing around me with the aftershocks of her last orgasm.
We began to move together, finding a rhythm that spoke of comfort as much as passion.
It wasn’t frantic or desperate, but slow and deep, each thrust a reminder that she wasn’t alone in her pain.
My hands never stopped touching her—caressing her face, tangling in her hair, tracing the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist.
As our movements grew more urgent, I slipped a hand between us, finding her clit.
“Let go,” I whispered in her ear. “I’ve got you. Let go.”
She came with a soft cry, her body tensing beneath mine. The sight of her, lost in pleasure rather than pain, was enough to push me over the edge. I buried my face in her neck as I found my own release, her name a prayer on my lips.
Afterward, I held her close, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing idle patterns on her back. We didn’t speak—there were no words that could make the situation better. But in the quiet aftermath, she seemed more relaxed and less burdened than she had been all day.
She pressed a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “For being here. For not letting me be alone.”
I tightened my arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
As her breathing deepened into sleep, I stared at the ceiling, thinking about the woman in my arms and the pain she was facing. I couldn’t fix this for her. I couldn’t make her grandma healthy or erase the grief that was coming. But I could be here—by her side—making sure she knew she wasn’t alone.
I could be the safe harbor she needed in the darkness. More importantly, I wanted to be that for her.