Chapter 10 Teddy
TEDDY
“Room service,” a voice calls from the doorway. I’d recognize it in my sleep.
My mouth tips up before I can stop it. “Get in here already.”
Footsteps cross the floor in long, confident strides.
I picture Jasper without even trying—that stupid signature grin plastered across his face, the one that used to drive me nuts when he beat me at anything off-ice.
He’s definitely wearing his purple Peacocks hoodie like he was born to play for them.
The image is sharp in my mind. My brain fills in the missing pieces because that’s what it does these days, reaching for the familiar in the middle of all the uncertainty.
“I’d hug you,” he says when he stops beside the bed and his voice softens, “but I don’t want to break you.”
I force a grin, though my body already aches in warning. “I’ll risk it. Unless you’ve gone soft playing for the Peacocks and can’t hug worth a damn anymore.”
I don’t actually care if it hurts. I just need my best friend right now. I need a physical touch that isn’t part of my care.
Arms close around me, strong but careful. The pressure tugs against sore muscles in my chest and ribs, making me wince, but I hold on tighter anyway. For a blissful moment, I forget about the hospital, the IV drip at my side, and the void that never leaves.
It’s me and Jasper, like it’s always been. Two close friends like brothers.
When he finally lets go, I’m breathless. Not from the force of his grip, but from everything the embrace meant. “I needed that.”
“Me too,” Jasper admits in a whisper, his voice breaking. “I missed you so much, brother. I thought…fuck, I thought the worst for a moment there.”
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, useless as the gesture is. But it gives me something to do with the rush of emotion clawing at my insides. “Yeah,” I rasp out. “I didn’t know if I’d get to see you again.”
My friend coughs to clear his throat. “I’m so glad you’re still here with us.”
“Same,” I agree with a smile.
“Glad we can agree on one thing.”
A loud thud hits the dresser following his statement. I turn to the sound. “What was that?”
“A gift basket from the guys. They pooled together to send it. There’s snacks and a couple things I shouldn’t spoil until you open it.”
“They didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, they did. You’re still their, well, our guy.”
I nod and swallow hard, forcing the lump down. Damn, I’m an emotional mess lately, and that is not my normal setting. “I’ll open it later.”
“Not sure the nurses would approve of half the contents, though, so you better be careful who you ask to help.”
That earns a genuine chuckle from me. “Bet you never thought you’d visit me here.”
“I always figured if you landed in the hospital, it’d be because you tried to fight a vending machine that ate your dollar or something just as stupid.
” His following laugh rumbles deep in his chest. “But it’s good to see you’re getting back on your feet.
How’s the recovery going? Don’t even try to sugarcoat or bullshit me. I know you too well.”
The question digs deeper than he probably means it to. “My body doesn’t know what the hell it’s doing, and I’m learning everything from scratch.”
“That’s how it was when you learned to skate, too, wasn’t it? It took some time, but you figured it out. You always do, no matter what.”
His faith in me is as irritating as it is comforting. “Yeah, we’ll see. I started physio yesterday.”
My mind flashes back to the session with Rosemary, one of the physiotherapists.
The feel of the different canes in my hand, the hollow tap of the one I picked against the mat, her steady voice coaching me to take one more step.
Just one more. The rhythm of it comes back—tap, step, breathe—and with it, the frustration of stumbling forward like a toddler learning to walk.
I hated every second of the exercise, hated how unsteady my body felt and how much I missed the certainty of skates under my feet.
“How it went?”
“They’ve got me learning to walk with a white cane.
Turns out there’s a whole lineup of them—lightweight, supporting, guiding, you name it.
” I reach to the side, fingers brushing against mine.
It’s slim and lightweight with a longer sweep than the others I tried.
The metal is cool to the touch, both alien and comfortable in my hand.
“This is a long one with better reach that helps me map out the ground ahead of me.”
“Can I—?”
“Go ahead.”
Jasper’s hand brushes mine and his fingers curl around the device. He whistles and I can hear the whizzing sound of it swinging back and forth. “Damn. It doesn’t look like much, but I can imagine how it works. Sweet.”
“It’s not exactly badass equipment,” I mutter, lips twitching.
“Come on,” Jasper starts, “you’re out here learning to use it. Taking steps after all that? Yeah, that’s badass.”
The words hit heavier than expected. I cover the rising emotions with a scoff, the way I was basically trained to do growing up. “I took ten steps without face-planting. Don’t polish it up too much.”
“That’s still ten steps more than before.” What a smartass. “For what it’s worth, the Peacocks guys send their best. We might wear different colors, but you’re still one of us.”
“Tell them I said thanks. Even if you’re repping the wrong damn jersey.”
“Still salty about the trade, huh?”
“Maybe a little,” I say, pinching my fingers together to show just how tiny I mean.
We both chuckle at that. Jasper slips into story mode, filling me in on the latest locker room chaos and the equipment manager trainee who somehow dyed all the practice jerseys pink.
I can picture every second he describes, and for a moment it feels like I’m right back in the middle of the camaraderie I’ve been missing while stuck here.
“No way,” I laugh, shaking my head. “How the hell do you dye jerseys pink by accident?”
“The kid mixed the detergents wrong or something. I have no clue, but a whole load came out this bubblegum color. You should’ve seen Coach Presley’s face. It looked like he was about to combust on the spot.”
“Bet the rookies loved it.”
“Are you kidding? They strutted out to practice like they were born to wear it. Full on Barbie-core.”
A wheeze of laughter breaks out of me before I can stop it, hurting my ribs, but it feels good to joke around. “God, I wish I could’ve seen that.”
“You would’ve convinced Foster to keep it as an alternate jersey if it happened to your team.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“Please. You once tried to order us custom practice socks with flamingos on them.”
I snort at the memory. “That was genius. You were the one who lacked vision.”
“Pretty sure you’re making a pun,” he mutters, then adds lightheartedly, “Blind jokes already?”
“If I can’t handle a bad pun, then I’m screwed. I don’t want you tiptoeing around me, acting like I’ll break if you say the wrong thing,” I explain. “I want everything to remain the same between us.”
Jasper exhales a laugh of relief. “No filter then.”
“Good. That’s how I like you.”
“Careful what you wish for, Seaborn.”
“I can handle it,” I shoot back, smiling despite myself.
Later in the evening, Ivy’s voice floats in like she’s been here all along. “Good evening, Mr. Seaborn. How are we feeling today?”
“Depends. Are you going to break it to me gently that I missed out on room service again?”
There’s a pause before her laugh carries across the room. “I heard quite the opposite. You had a very special visitor earlier today.”
“Yeah. Jasper dropped by. He brought a gift basket from the guys on my team,” I say with a broad smile.
Having Jasper here earlier today didn’t just feel good; it was a damn lifeline. I’m grateful he showed up and that we slipped right back into who we’ve always been. Not a single awkward pause or hint of pity.
Ivy’s answering sigh is playful but dramatic. “You’re killing me, Theodore. Of course I missed the infamous Jasper ?kerman in-person.”
“Fangirling again? I thought you were supposed to be a professional.” I make air quotes around the last word.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“It’s not my fault my nurse is a superfan,” I tease. In reality, I’m glad she didn’t hide the truth from me. It’s actually pretty sweet, even if I won’t admit it to her.
“I’m here to check your vitals, not your ego.”
“Pretty sure you’re tanking both,” I sigh dramatically, letting my head fall back against the pillow. The exaggerated response pulls another soft laugh from her, and damn if that sound doesn’t do more for me than the meds ever could.
“After the checkup we’ll see what the guys sent you,” she suggests and gets to work.
She takes my vitals—including blood pressure and temperature—then checks my eyes before moving through the rest of her routine. By the time she’s done scribbling on the clipboard, I’m ready to find out what the guys got me. Knowing Foster, it could be anything. And I mean anything.
“All good. Now for the fun part.” There’s a rustle of paper, followed by a snort. “Uh…there’s some lube in here.”
Fucking Foster. Of course he got me the one thing I don’t need right now.
“Lube? Seriously? I’m not exactly in any condition to use it.”
She tries to hold back a laugh but it slips out anyway. “They figured you’d need it eventually.”
“Of course they did,” I deadpan.
“Oh, just to make things even more interesting, there are condoms in here too.”
I groan, imagining Ivy holding the foil packaging. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
I can’t believe this is happening. Of all the things to end up in the basket, it has to be lube and condoms. Classic Foster move.
And of course, my probably hot nurse is the one to find them.
My life has officially become some weird hospital-themed sitcom.
Good thing Ivy’s got a sense of humor; otherwise, this could’ve turned into painfully awkward real quick.
I’m mostly hoping no one else strolls in and adds another witness to this circus.
She snickers. “I mean, they’re thorough. You can’t accuse them of not planning ahead.”
“Thorough is one word for it,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “I can’t even walk without tripping over myself and they’re sending me this stuff? This is the best my teammates could come up with?”
Based on the way her next words come out all strangled, she’s trying to hold in a full-on giggle. “They’re obviously ensuring you’re prepared for everything once you’re up on your feet again.”
“There better be some useful stuff in there.”
The soft crinkle fills the room before she says, “Good news, there’s some protein bars, different types of nuts, chocolate, gummy worms, and two pairs of fluffy socks with the Woodpeckers logo.”
“Always wanted another pair of Woodpeckers socks,” I tell her as she tosses me a set. “You can have the second pair.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. It’s a gift for you.”
“I insist, Ivy. Unless it would make your partner jealous.”
“No partner,” she says quickly. “I’m single.”
The new piece of information shouldn’t matter as she’s my nurse. But it does. A grin tugs at the corners of my mouth before I manage to school my expression. “Good to know,” I murmur.
“Well…thank you,” she says after a moment, her tone lifting with a mix of surprise and brightness. “See? It wasn’t all bad. Only a few odd items for fun.”
“I like how you called them odd items.” I let out a choked laugh. “The socks and gummy worms are the winners.”
“I’ll take care of the rest. You let me know if you need anything else.”
“Have you found me a nose ring yet?”
“Oh yes! I was able to find your original one. Be right back.”
Her footsteps fade, then return a minute later. The faint clink of metal against the side table makes me smile. It’s a small thing, but a part of me I’ve been missing.
“I’ll clean the area first, then we’ll go slow. It might sting a little,” Ivy warns.
“I can handle it.”
She hums under her breath, a cute tell she’s focusing on her current task. Her knuckles brush against my cheek as she disinfects the nose and slides the ring in place. There’s a brief pinch of discomfort—more pressure than pain—followed by a smooth slide as it slips through.
“That was quick,” I comment.
“Lucky for you, the piercing was still open.”
I reach up, carefully touching the cool metal and twist it slightly. A wave of relief washes through me. “Thanks, Ivy. Seriously. I feel more like myself with it.”
“Anytime.” Her voice is warm and sincere. Even in the middle of this nightmare, where nothing makes sense, she feels like solid ground.
After Ivy leaves the room, I grab the bag of what I hope is gummy worms. The package tears open with a satisfying rip, and the first bite confirms that the guys picked my favorite sour gummy worms. It’s easily the best thing I’ve tasted in days.
I lean my head against the pillows, the candy bag in my hand, and let myself relax for real this time. Maybe I’m not as alone in this as I first thought. I have Ivy, the rest of the care team, and the guys. Not to mention Jasper, Em and my uncle.