46. Chapter 46
Jake
The not so fun thing about a grumpy two-hundred-and-fifty-pound, six-foot-four rugby player’s recovery was getting him settled back into his apartment four floors up after eight days of lying in a hospital bed and two surgeries.
He was, very reluctantly, using a walker, but that didn’t matter.
He barked orders and directed scowls, stomping around like a toddler.
I’d offered my place since it was one floor, close to the beach, and significantly easier for him to attend the multitude of doctors appointments he was about to have, but Nate had shut down that idea so fast I barely got the sentence out.
“Will you stop fluffing me?” Nate scowled at Connor, who was indeed fluffing him.
Connor didn’t even glance up from where he was rearranging the blankets over Nate’s non-bandaged leg like he was preparing a royal suite. “No. You get fluffed now.”
“I hate that sentence.”
“Yeah, well, I hate your apartment building. Four floors? What are you, a medieval widow protecting her tower? Get a fecking condo like every other person in California.”
Bobby snorted.
Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re all being dramatic. There’s an elevator.”
Connor gently placed another pillow behind him, despite Nate trying to swat him away without bothering his fractured ribs. “Mate, your body has more stitches than a baseball right now. Let us help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
All three of us stared at him blankly.
Underneath the grumpiness was something none of us were saying out loud. Fear. Frustration. The unbearable reality of suddenly needing people for things he’d always done himself.
“You know we’re not here because we think you’re weak, right?” I asked the question that seemed to be telepathically running between us all.
Nate’s jaw tightened, and he looked away.
Bobby leaned against his chest of drawers. “You’d do this for any of us without thinking twice.”
Another grumbled noise was the only indication that he’d heard us before his front door opened and closed.
“We got more groceries!” Seren announced loudly. She was fully in helpful mode and insisted that his house was stocked with everything he might need.
Teddy grunted. “Too much for a man who currently can’t move on his own very well, but sure, he can cook five steaks.”
“I’m gonna meal pre—You know what, don’t worry about it, just put the bags on the counter.”
“The only time you get to boss me around, by the way.”
They walked past his bedroom, arms full of bags, then Micah wandered in behind them, carrying another tote against her hip. “You two are becoming like some kind of married couple, and I’d just like to say that Teddy was mine first.”
We all looked at each other as we listened to them bicker. “This is true.”
Seren gasped dramatically. “Wow. Betrayal. In my brother’s house.”
From the bed, Nate let out a tired groan. “Please leave my apartment.”
“No,” all three women answered in unison.
Seren wandered into his room with arms full of water, and bottles of pills, setting them down on his dresser. “Anyway, you need protein, iron, vitamin C—”
“I need everyone to stop talking.”
“You also need vegetables.”
“I know this. I’m literally an athlete.”
“You’re currently a patient,” Teddy corrected dryly, coming in too.
Micah leaned against the wall, watching Seren fuss over everything with unconcealed amusement. “Seren’s gone full-mom mode.”
Seren ignored both of them entirely, already reorganizing Nate’s bedside table to make room for medication, snacks, and approximately six different hydration options.
“Speaking of, where’s Cai?” Connor asked.
“His dad’s. Jake and I are going to get him after Nate stops being such a baby and accepts our help.”
His expression tightened. “I’m fine.”
As though rehearsed, we all replied at the same time. “Yeah. We know.”
Truth of the matter was, Nate had a long road to recovery, with a full schedule of physical therapy and healing, and staring down the barrel of that as well as not being able to play for the rest of the season was his worst nightmare.
I could understand and feel his pain; it was like a living, breathing cloud surrounding him.
Rugby wasn’t just something Nate did. It was etched into the bones of who he was. His routines. His purpose. And now all of that had been ripped away in one brutal moment and replaced with pain medication and mobility aids and people hovering every time he tried to stand up too fast.
For someone as fiercely independent as him, I honestly didn’t know what hurt worse. The injury or the helplessness.
Nate shifted slightly against the pillows, jaw tightening almost immediately after. He still tried to hide every wince.
Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long gold stripes across the floorboards, the ocean breeze drifting faintly through the cracked balcony door, but inside the room, everything felt heavier somehow. Thick with things nobody knew how to fix.
Micah pushed off the wall gently. “You’re allowed to be pissed off, Nate.”
“I’m not pissed off.”
Bobby scoffed. “That’s actually the least believable thing anyone’s ever said in this apartment.”
A reluctant twitch pulled at Connor’s mouth, but Nate only dragged a hand over his face tiredly.
“I just hate sitting here while everyone does everything for me.”
Seren stopped reorganizing his medication.
Her shoulders dropped before she crossed the room and sat carefully beside his legs on the bed. “I know this sucks, but you’re a part of this team, and that means we’re all going to be here for you.”
Nate’s gaze went dark, but he nodded. His eyes closed not long after that, exhaustion finally seeming to win over stubbornness, and one by one, everybody started filtering quietly out of the room with soft goodbyes and promises to come back tomorrow.
I stayed with Seren until Nate’s breathing had evened out.
“Your mom is coming today?” I asked.
“In the next twenty minutes,” she replied, not looking away from her brother. “Do you mind if we stay until she gets here?”
“Of course not, baby.” I moved closer until my knee brushed hers gently. “We can do whatever you need.”
Her eyes finally lifted to mine, stress sitting heavy beneath them. She looked wrung out. Days’ old worry still clung to her shoulders, no matter how much everybody tried to carry pieces of it for her.
I hated that.
I hated how much fear had lived in her lately.
Then she whispered, “I just need you here with me.”
I reached for her hand immediately, threading our fingers together before bringing her knuckles to my mouth. “You’ve got me,” I murmured against her skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”