Nick #2
“Hey, partner.” I move to his bedside, brushing a hand through his sweaty curls. His gaze lazily finds mine, and he gives me the tiniest smile.
“Nick?” His voice is gravely, muffled by his oxygen mask. “My throat hurts.”
“Yeah, I bet it does.” I carefully slip the elastic from around his ears and ease the oxygen mask away. “You worked really hard to breathe tonight. It's gonna feel scratchy for a little while.”
His cheeks and neck are still mottled with angry red patches. Luckily, the swelling has finally begun to fade.
“Look who came to see you.” I hand him his glasses before stepping aside. Leah quietly comes forward.
His smile brightens tenfold despite his weak body.
“Hey, Grady,” she says softly. “I heard hospitals can be kinda boring. So...” She reveals a bright green balloon with a cartoon T-Rex wearing a pirate hat. “I rescued this from the harvest festival before we left.”
His face lights up. “For me?”
“Yes, for you.” She ties the ribbon loosely around the bedrail before pulling something else from her purse.
“And—” she grins—“I found this in one of the prize baskets.”
She places in his hands a small plastic puzzle with brightly colored tiles that are scrambled. “You have to slide the pieces around until they make the picture again.”
Grady studies it. “I don't know how.”
“I can show you, if you'd like.” Leah pulls a chair beside his bed and sits close enough that their shoulders nearly touch. She slowly slides one tile at a time, explaining the pattern.
“Uh-oh …” She chuckles softly. “If you move that one, the Triceratops loses his tail.”
“And-and he'll look silly.” He giggles into a cough.
Leah chuckles. “Very silly. Let's try again.”
Grady watches closely, his tiny finger tracing in the air, mimicking his teacher's moves.”See? Sometimes you have to mess up the whole picture to move one tile into the right spot.”
“Ohhhhh …”
Within minutes, Grady is carefully sliding the pieces himself, tongue poking out.
“There you go, Grady,” Leah encourages. “You're doing so well.”
I settle onto the couch, watching her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear before she continues to play with my son.
And dear God, it is attractive as hell.
“You did it!” she squeals.
Grady beams, holding up the handheld puzzle. “Look what we did, Nick!”
“Good job, partner!
“And now …” Leah takes the puzzle, quickly mixing up the tiles again before handing it back to Grady.
He stares at the toy for a few seconds, his eyebrows drawing together. “It's broken again.”
“And now, you can play again. See?”
Grady looks at it for a minute, adjusting his glasses. He lets out a laugh and starts sliding the tiles again.
Leah flashes me a smile, and for one reckless second, I wonder what this moment would've looked like if I had kissed her that night at the bar.
The funny thing is I don't think much would be different.
I'd still be sitting here, watching her make my son feel better.
The only difference is I'd be able to lean over and kiss her whenever the hell I wanted.
“Well—” she stands up—“I better get out of your hair. Do y'all need anything?”
You. “I think we're good.” I ruffle Grady's hair. “What do we say to Ms. Harrison?”
He waves. “Thank you.”
“Of course, buddy. Make sure you teach Nick how to play, okay?”
He nods eagerly, pulling up his covers.
“I'll be right back, partner. I'm just right outside.”
I walk Leah out into the hallway, the door clicking softly shut behind us. Her pace slows down, as she casually pivots to face me.
I will not look at her lips.
“I'm glad he's okay,” she says quietly, rocking on her heels.
“Me too.”
Do not look at her lips.
Another silence stretches between us, our awkward chuckles filling the space.
“Oh! I almost forgot.” She digs deep into her purse and pulls out a deck of playing cards. “Here.”
I chuckle, a smile tugging at my mouth. My thumb brushes over the box, tracing the embossing of the filigree up until I peel back the flap to reveal a perfectly new deck of cards. “Thank you. I—”
I stop.
A scrawl of bubbly numbers inside the cardboard flap catches my attention.
Her phone number.
My gaze finds her widened eyes.
“You weren't supposed to find it just yet.” She scoffs before nervously chuckling. “Oh gosh, this sounded so much cooler in my head.”
I chuckle. “Oh yeah?”
“Nevermind.” Her cheeks flush as she takes the cards back. “I'm sorry. This is probably incredibly inappropriate, given—well, tonight and your son, but I-I thought—you know—maybe you should have it for … well, I guess just in case … Gosh, I'm really sorry—”
“I'm not,” I interrupt.
Her eyes fly to mine. Her breathing hitches, as I step forward. “You're-you're not what?” she asks, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink.
“I'm not sorry.” My hand reaches down, my fingers brushing against hers and resting around the deck. I lower my voice. “Can I have your number, Ms. Harrison?”
She stares at me, chewing on her lip. “You don't have to … if you don't want—”
“Give me your number.”
A playful smile crawls across her face, her eyes never leaving mine. She slowly loosens her grip on the cards, but her touch lingering.
Laughter echoes down the hallway from the nurses’ station, reminding us we're not alone. The spell between us breaks as we step apart.
“I better go.” She adjusts her purse over her shoulder. “Night, Mr. Crawford.”
The corner of my lips curl. “Night, Ms. Harrison.”
She turns and heads toward the elevator, casually glancing over her shoulder once.
I don't move until she's completely out of sight. The warmth of her fingertips is already fading from mine, and I hate how quickly I miss her.
I sneak back into the room. Darkness sinks deep into my bones as exhaustion consumes me. It's surreal; the stillness in the wake of so much chaos, so much emotion, leaves me with an emptiness. It's lonely.
For a long moment, I simply stand there, watching the steady rise and fall of Grady's chest. I can't get enough of it. I could stand here for a thousand years and never tire from such a beautiful sight.
I toe off my sneakers, setting them neatly against the wall. Grabbing some blankets a nurse left for me earlier, I turn the couch into a bed.
“Nick?” Grady's sleepy voice floats over the silence.
“Yeah, partner?”
He blinks at me through heavy eyelids. “Are you my dad?”
The words stop me cold. I slowly pivot around, considering my words. “Where'd you hear that?”
“The doctor.” He shrugs one shoulder beneath the blankets. “She called you Dad.”
I let out a sigh. The moment I've been longing for is suddenly happening way too quickly.
I slowly make my way to the bed, careful not to jostle the wires and IV tubing.
Lowering myself onto the edge of the mattress, I rest my forearms on my knees.
I don't exactly know what to say or how to say it. I thought I'd be better prepared.
So, I settle on the truth.
“Yeah,” I answer softly. “I am.”
Grady is quiet for a few minutes, studying the ceiling. “So ...” His gaze drifts back to mine. “Do I have to stop calling you Nick?”
A laugh catches in my chest before it ever reaches my lips. “No.” I smile. “You get to choose.”
“I do?”
“You do.”
He thinks about that for another few seconds, his nose scrunching the way it always does when he's concentrating.
“Can I still be your partner?”
I rest my hands at his sides, leaning over him. “That will never, ever change."
He holds up his pinky finger.
Smiling through the sting in my eyes, I hook mine around his. “Pinky promise.”