24. Noelle & Cal
Chapter twenty-four
Noelle & Cal
Noelle
I took Khia back to my place before the game ended. Though I’d reassured her Cal was all right, her tearstained face was pale with exhaustion.
“Is Daddy really okay?” Khia asked, her lower lip trembling as I tucked her on the small air mattress I’d set up in the corner of my room.
“He needed to see a doctor, but he’ll be right as rain soon,” I promised.
She sniffled.
“Oh, sweetie.” I tugged her into my lap.
Her small arms wrapped around my neck like an octopus, and she sobbed against my shoulder. “I want my daddy. I don’t want him to die, too.”
I rubbed her back. “Your daddy’s okay. He’ll be okay.”
“You promise?” she hiccuped against my neck.
Gently, I rubbed my hand up and down her back. “I promise.”
She sniffled harder, and I started humming softly. The sobs quieted to whimpers, and then her tired little body sagged in my arms.
Only once her breathing evened out did I let her go, carefully slipping her under the covers before I crept out of the room. My back spasmed from sitting in one position like that and from the hardness of the arena seats earlier.
But it was more than that.
The rush of adrenaline and emotion at seeing Cal hurt surprised me. I was no stranger to horrific injuries far worse than Cal’s, but tonight, my hands shook as I clicked the kettle on.
I didn’t handle stress the same way I used to. Maybe it was because I was finally working on not shoving all my emotions as far down as the Mariana Trench.
Or maybe it’s because he’s someone you care about.
There was always that.
The routine motions of steeping tea settled my nerves, and the lemon balm with a hint of honey would help. I’d just swallowed the last sip when a soft knock came at the front door.
Cal’s face was pinched with pain as the door swung open. “Hey.”
I grabbed his arm. “What did the X-rays say?”
He shrugged awkwardly, given the crutches under his arms. “Nothing’s broken. I’m all taped and stitched up, but I’ll be off for a week or so. A little bit of physio and I’ll be good to go.” He grinned. “Can’t keep me down long.”
Relief coursed through me so fast I sagged against the doorframe. “That’s good news.”
Cal eyed me with concern. “You okay, Elle?”
“I’m fine.” Apart from the ridiculous swell of tears trying to escape their confines. “Khia just fell asleep. Do you want me to carry her up to the house? Or she can stay if that’s easier.”
“Do you mind if she stays overnight? I’d hate to wake her.”
“Not a problem.” I glanced at the truck idling in front of the cottage. “Did someone drive you?”
“Yeah, Myles. He’ll get me sorted.”
“Anything I can do?”
Cal shook his head. “Thanks for all you’ve done. With Khia.”
“Of course.”
The tension between us was palpable in the dim porch light. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I gave in to the urge to hug him. I slid my arms around his shoulders and squeezed. He couldn’t hug me back with the crutches, but that was okay.
I needed to know he was in one piece. Know he was really okay.
It was quick. Just enough to feel his strong build and convince my overwhelmed brain he was indeed fine. I stepped back, cheeks hot. “I’ll let you go. You need to rest. It’s the best medicine. And don’t use heat or ice longer than twenty minutes.”
A faint smile tugged Cal’s lips. “Thank you, doctor.” He turned to leave but paused before the single step. “Hey, Elle? I definitely could have used your brand of distraction with the stitches tonight.”
I gaped at him.
And the man had the audacity to wink at me before hobbling away.
Cal
“Don’t say it,” I grunted, pulling myself into the passenger seat of Myles’s truck. It was decidedly ungraceful, and I flopped like a beached whale. Thankfully, Noelle had already gone inside so she didn’t witness my humiliation.
Myles, however, grinned in the cab light. “Did I say anything?”
“Didn’t have to. You looked it.”
“Pain makes you churlish.”
“Was that the word of the day, Mr. Thesaurus?” I glared at him, but he only chuckled and pulled farther up the driveway to the main house. We sat in silence for a minute after he parked.
Myles broke the stillness. “What are you going to do?”
“About hockey? Oh, you know, sit on the bench and watch you oafs fumble your way around without me.”
“Jules is right. Your ego is alarming.” Myles huffed. “But you know what I meant.”
“Grey already lectured me on my idiocy about letting Elle back into my life. I don’t need it from you, too.”
“No lecture,” Myles said mildly. “Honestly, I think she’s good for you.”
“You do?” My ears perked up despite the weariness in my body. The painkillers had dulled most of the pain for now, though I knew they wouldn’t last.
He shrugged. “I could be wrong—”
“Doubtful.”
Myles had an uncanny sense of reading people correctly. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so useful.
“She’s changed, Cal. But she’s still the same in a lot of ways.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You still have feelings for her.” He didn’t bother framing it as a question.
“Never really stopped,” I grumbled.
He hummed in understanding. More than anyone else, he knew just how far I’d fallen in my attempts to forget her. “I’m not saying you need to jump back into a relationship, but you were friends once. That’s a good basis for any relationship.”
“I hate it when you make so much sense.”
“One of us has to be the sensible one in this friendship.”
Touché.
“And for what it’s worth, Grey has a point.
We both know it.” He held up a hand when I tried to protest. “But you’re going to have to make the best choice for you and Khia.
Only you can do that.” My best friend spitting facts, ladies and gentlemen.
“Pray about it, and remember the concern comes from a place of love.”
After he left, the words looped in my mind as I stared at my bedroom ceiling.
Friendship was a good start. But I was lying to myself if I said it was all I wanted.