Chapter 36
— Remmy —
Bastian’s hands flew to his head as my fingers pressed to my mouth. Shock sat heavy on my chest.
“Oh no,” I whispered around the coils of dread constricting my lungs. I pressed a second hand to my mouth while breathing out. “Oh my god. He’s hurt.”
The replays had added another wedge of weight to my chest. They showed the moments directly after Scout’s pitch in slow motion where something visibly pinged in his elbow. His face contorted in pain. Pain that made me ache hours later while desperately trying to call him.
Each attempt rang to his voicemail and the messages I sent were left unread. While I figured he’d be undergoing assessments and testing, it still killed me that I couldn’t get in contact.
Two hours later, Bastian had started work for the night, so he wasn’t there to witness me pacing the length of his living room. Not only was I holed up in his apartment still living out of my suitcase and not knowing if my boyfriend had suffered a career-ending injury, but not making an income had me feeling trapped and angsty. I didn’t have the tools of my “trade” to create content for my impatiently waiting clients before they no longer had access to my account. Regardless of the storm around me, I still needed to make a living.
Leif, Scout’s brother, had contacted me as promised and was drafting up an NDA and contract for the new client requesting exclusive rights. I’d half expected Leif to pry. To delve as much as he could out of curiosity. But much to my surprise, he’d remained strictly professional.
While still waiting to hear from Scout, I flopped onto the couch to do some retail therapy. I pulled up my go-to website—the one specifically for fetishes like I specialized in—and searched for a new sex machine to replace the one collecting dust and unobtainable in my apartment. I didn’t know exactly what my exclusive client’s unique tastes were yet, so I added a selection of dildo attachments of various sizes and styles.
Bass would lose his shit when he found out I’d be making content in his spare room. A wicked smirk played across my lips as I entered his address for delivery, then my credit card payment.
The retail therapy with the discreet, overnight shipping settled some of the turbulence in my head. I would at least be making money within the next forty-eight hours, exclusive client or not.
As if summoned by the prospect of kinks, Scout’s name finally appeared on my phone screen.
Ace: Hey, honey. Sorry I didn’t message earlier. The game didn’t go to plan…
No shit. I chewed on the inside of my bottom lip as I replied.
Me: I saw. Me and Bastian watched the game. How bad is it?
My heart crawled into my throat with each taunting little wave of the dots as he typed.
Ace: Bad. I need surgery.
Fuck. My fingers hovered, not knowing what to stay. Knowing that whatever I did say wouldn’t console him through what he’d be feeling.
I waited as Scout kept typing.
Ace: I’m on a flight back to Portland soon with surgery being scheduled as we speak. My season is over.
A deep fracture splintered its way through my chest. Those last four words, weighed with silent pain, had me pressing a hand atop of the ache.
Searching for words through the devastation, I opened my mouth as if I speak aloud to him. When none came, I simply shook my head.
Me: I’m so sorry. Tell me what to do. How can I help when you get back?
Gone was our argument of yesterday. The scars it had ripped open. To hell with the demons we both fought behind closed eyes. This moment mattered. Despite the turmoil around us, all that mattered in this beat of time was Scout.
Ace: I might need someone to collect me after surgery…
That would require me leaving the sanctuary of Bastian’s house and facing the gauntlet of cameras…
Me: Done. What else?
~
Two days later, I wove my way through the eerily quiet, sterile corridors of a private hospital, having received a call from a nurse an hour ago. I hadn’t spoken to Scout since before his surgery yesterday, and it made for an anxious night of little sleep.
The call from the nurse had woken me from a deep sleep at 8:30am on the dot. Apparently Scout had been asking for me. Demanding, actually.
I’d showered in a hurry, applied enough makeup that I didn’t look like the walking dead, then stole Bass’ car without waking him to let him know.
Arriving at the recovery ward reception desk a little out of breath, I gave the nurse a half-hearted smile.
“Hi, I’m here for—”
“Scout Gatlin,” she cut me off. “Sorry again for waking you. He was very insistent I call you. I barely managed to hold him off until eight thirty,” she explained, rounding the desk. “He’s sleeping just down here.”
I snickered and followed along before coming to a stop at the door of his private room.
“Surgery went well,” the nurse murmured. “He’s on some heavy painkillers at the moment, hence why he’s out cold again, but you’re more than welcome to sit with him.” She gave me a warm smile. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, then tentatively inched into the room.
As promised, Scout lay on his back, injured arm bent, wrapped, and resting on his stomach as he slept. A day’s worth of stubble peppered his jaw that hung slightly agape. He looked so angelic sleeping, and a little smile tugged my mouth as I slowly leaned over and laid a gentle kiss between his relaxed brows.
He woke with a deep inhale, then a wide sleepy grin spread across this face once he had me in focus.
“You’re here,” came his gritty voice.
Oh, how my heart softened. The look in his eyes alone—the relief and affection—had warmth spreading through my abdomen. If I hadn’t already been sure if I’d do anything for him, I knew within this moment that I absolutely would.
“I am.”
“You’re pretty.”
I snorted. “I think you’re still high. What are they giving you in these drips?”
“Good shit,” he drawled, accompanied by a sleepy, jacked-up laugh.
Albeit brief, an ugly pang of jealousy cut through my chest. The glazed look in his eyes called to my demons. The ache in my leg was long gone, but the hunger for just one more session never fully went away. Just looking at Scout made the ghosts of my addiction rouse. Made them gather a little more strength than what I usually allowed as my eyes traced the sloping arch of the hanging IV line from the bag to the needle lodged in Scout’s inner elbow.
A shudder ran through me. One laden with both loathing and longing. Of hunger arcing alight.
“Come to bust me out, honey?”
I forced my focus to shift to Scout’s tired smirk. Folding my arms, I popped a hip. “I’m not busting you anywhere until you get the all clear.”
He let out a light little snicker. “Poet. But I disagree with your choice.”
I pulled up a chair and affectionately squeezed his left arm. “Nothing new there, right? Seems like that’s the way we operate.”
Shadows passed behind his eyes before his blink brought renewed clarity. “We said things…”
I gave another gentle squeeze. “Inconsequential. Doesn’t mean we won’t talk about them later though.”
“Damn straight.” He nodded thoughtfully. “You know, Remmy,” he said slowly, “you could do a whole lot worse, and I think I would forgive you every damn time. Aside from infidelity.”
The earnestness in his tone scared me. I playfully slapped his arm. “You’re definitely tripping.”
There was no way though. His eyes were as clear as the night sky, and the unvoiced words inside his head shone like stars ready to speak their truth.
Scout shook his head and smoothed his knuckles down the side of my face. “I’m not. But I am at the same time. You’re my drug, Remmy. I’m so fucking hooked on you that you could do anything you damn well liked to me, and I’d fall to my knees and take it. Every last second. Every last lash. The good and the bad. I’d endure it and still worship the goddamn ground you walk on.”
My swallow, as painful as it sounded, failed to ease the squeeze in my throat. I floundered, taken so off guard that words—a response worthy enough—wouldn’t come. Instead, I offered a strained laugh.
Scout watched me flounder with a cocky smirk tugging his mouth. “I’m trying to tell you that I love you, honey.”
My brows hit my hairline. Outside, I said, “Now I know you’re definitely tripping,” but inside I couldn’t breathe. My stomach had claimed my lungs. I wanted to tell him that he meant more to me than he was ever supposed to. That I’d do anything for him too. To hell and back, I’d fight my demons to be with him. I swallowed thickly again, remembering that people like him weren’t meant to be destined for people like me.
That thought had tears prickling in my eyes. Scout mistook the emotion and smiled as he pressed his warm palm to my cheek.
He didn’t notice the impact or the pressure those three little innocent words created. Or the inevitable heartbreak because I still didn’t believe I was good enough to be his for life. Good enough to fuck, but not good enough to keep. People like me believed we never were, no matter how far we’d come. No matter how hard we’d clawed and fought to rise from rock bottom.
And I still hadn’t talked to Scout about what I wouldn’t discuss over the phone.
As his eyelids grew heavy, and his smile began to relax, I leaned in to kiss his mouth. And only because he was drifting did I let the whispered confession pass my lips.
“I’m falling for you, too, Ace.”
A quiet chuckle rumbled, and his smug smile returned. “I knew you were,” he drawled.
Despite remaining still with his eyes closed, that damned smile grew.
“You tricked me. Asshole,” I hissed under my breath, receiving another rolling laugh, and I sat down again.
My head swam. I could have throttled him in his hospital bed with his IV line if my heart wasn’t fluttering, blissfully swept off its feet by a modern-day prince.
Scout hauled me into his side with his free arm, then kissed my forehead. “Don’t overthink it, babe.”
I savored the scrape of his stubble against skin, all while telling myself to focus on the moment. Not yesterday’s trials, nor tomorrow's.
“Can’t help it,” I murmured, sliding back into my seat again.
“It’s easy, see.” He pointed at himself.
“All I can see is smug as fuck.”
Another lazy grin sent butterflies through my belly, until his expression grew serious again. “Time to get me out of here, babe. Go tell the nurse.”
I snorted. “Invalid or not, I’m not your bitch.”
Scout’s dark eyes twinkled. “No, but you love me, and that means you’ll do it.”
Muttering under my breath, I folded my arms and glared. After a minute and a sharp huff, I stood.
“I’m only doing this because this chair is uncomfortable, and I want to feel my ass-bone at the end of the day.”
“Same, honey. Saaaame.”
His snicker followed me as I exited his room, about to do his bidding with zero to no coercion.