31. Gideon
GIDEON
The hospital’s harsh fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed above me. I’d driven here as fast as I could after the ambulance left the club. Lisa had already taken Olive to her house.
Piper gave a bleak smile as she entered the waiting room. “Like you said, it’s broken.”
“Cute cast.” I kissed her cheek.
“They gave me a choice.” She held up the pink cast. “I thought to myself, what color would Olive choose?”
“That’s the one.”
“Where is Olive?”
“Lisa took her to her house. The girls wanted to go swimming. I hope that’s okay.”
Piper looked relieved. “That’s perfect. I wouldn’t want her to see me like this.”
I knew that Piper was going to be sad. We had worked so hard, and we had almost done it. Actually, I knew that Piper wasn’t going to be sad—she was going to be devastated.
I whipped a Sharpie out of the pocket of my shorts. “Do you think Olive will mind if I’m the first to sign your cast?” I pulled the cap off with my teeth and made a fancy signature motion with the marker. I needed to start practicing my autographs again.
She blinked. “Gideon.” Her face brightened. “Did you get cleared to get back on the ice?”
“The doctor called while I was out with Ace. I wanted to wait for the right moment to tell you, but I hadn’t found it yet.” It felt criminal to be sharing my good news while Piper was having such a bad day.
I shouldn’t have worried. She wrapped her good arm around my neck and hugged me. “I’m so happy for you.” She let go and held out her arm. “Autograph my cast, hockey star.”
My signature and hockey number were well practiced, and I scrawled Gideon Bailey across the inner forearm portion—but added a heart after the number seventeen.
The smile that had come back faded away. “Six weeks.” Her voice was hollow.
“It’ll fly by. Come on, let’s get out of here.” I’d been in far too many hospitals these past few weeks.
“Six weeks of barely being able to work. Six weeks of medical bills. We were one point away, Gideon. One point.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. I grabbed an entire box of tissues from the reception desk and handed one to her, keeping the rest for the ride home.
The defeat in her voice was killing me. I’d seen plenty of injuries in hockey and knew firsthand the devastation of a career derailed by bad luck. I could handle it when it happened to me. Watching her suffer was ten times harder.
“The money’s not everything. I can give you ten thousand dollars.”
Her eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare. You know I would never accept it from you.” We were blasted with heat as we walked through the automatic doors.
The ride home was quiet except for her occasional shaky breath.
She wasn’t crying anymore; it seemed like she’d used them all up.
When I pulled into her driveway, she stared at the stairs to her apartment like they were Mount Everest. Her wrist was her worst injury, but her ankle had been sprained in the process as well.
“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet. “For staying. For driving me home. For everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
She stared at me,, cradling her cast. “I know you want to help, and I appreciate it, but I need some time to figure out what comes next.”
I took a breath. I already had a plan; I just had to get the most stubborn woman I knew to agree to it. “Piper. Let me help you up the stairs. I’ve made some calls, and there’s a few things I need to tell you.”
“Gideon…” She hopped out of the car, then hissed in pain.
“Dammit, Piper.” I bolted from the driver’s seat, scooped her in my arms, and carried her up the stairs.
The last time I’d been in this apartment, I’d been soaking wet and seconds from blowing my load.
I hoped that after I shared my news, and when Piper was feeling up for it, we’d be able to pick up where we’d left off.
“I talked to some people—”
“Gideon—” she interrupted.
“Just listen. My buddy Liam plays for the New York Thunder, and his stepsister, Everleigh, runs a charity that gives grants to kids from low-income families for sports, mostly hockey, but they make exceptions.” I paused, letting that sink in. “Olive’s getting ten thousand dollars.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“Equipment, coaching, tournament fees, whatever she needs, the foundation will cover it for one year. You’ll have to reapply every year if you want to continue. And your medical bills? The club’s insurance covers tournament injuries. You won’t owe a penny.”
She blinked. “You did this.”
“I didn’t do anything. I just made some calls.”
“Why?” The question came out barely above a whisper.
“Because I care about you. Both of you. More than I should after just a month.” I moved closer. “Because watching you hurt makes me hurt, and I couldn’t do nothing. Piper, if you’ll have me, I want to be in your life. We can be so much more than pickleball partners, and you know it.”
Tears filled her eyes. Not the bitter kind that she’d shed at the hospital; these seemed like a mixture of relief and disbelief. “Gideon, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Of course I want you in my life, in our life.” She kissed me and wasn’t the only one with tears in their eyes.
When she pulled back, I wiped hers away with my thumb and cupped her face. “The foundation thing. It’s real?”
“Real as it gets. Everleigh King’s husband, Gunnar Lockwood, actually received the grants when he was growing up. That family is a walking soap opera.”
Piper smiled. “It sounds like it.” She sat on her sofa.
I took a seat next to her and reached for her hand. I wasn’t done with the good news.“David Harrison called me too. He wants to talk to you about the job at the club when you’re feeling better.”
She was quiet for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Seriously? Even with this?” She held up her cast.
“He’s seen broken bones before. Yours was a clean break and should heal better than new.” I pulled her to her feet, careful of her cast.
She melted against me, her good hand fisting in my shirt. My body didn’t respect the injury; the moment her body pressed against mine, I was instantly hard.
“Gideon.” She looked into my eyes. “My wrist might be broken, but the rest of me works just fine.” Her fingertips traced the waistband of my shorts. “We had a deal. Business until the tournament.”
“Right. That deal.” I groaned as the fingers of her good hand wrapped around my cock. “What about it?”
She grinned. “Tournament’s over.”
“Lady, I need a bit more clarification than that.” She was backing toward her bedroom. I couldn’t help but follow—she did have me completely in her grip—and we shuffled to the foot of her bed. “Gideon. Bailey. Take off those shorts and fuck me. Deal’s off.”
I lifted her hand and kissed her cast. I found something that mattered more than any goal or contract. Deep down, I knew this thing with Piper was going to be a long game. And now, I had the skills to win it, one perfect play at a time. Starting now.