Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Chess
Hospitals are horrible. Especially waking up in one. I threw up and they scanned my brain for internal swelling or bleeding.
That scared the shit out of me. Apparently, I have a concussion. Which means I spent the night being checked on in intervals
that felt too short and were annoying since it meant I couldn’t sleep. I really wanted to sleep.
It’s morning now. My head weighs a metric ton and throbs as if someone is steadily kicking it. But the nausea is gone, and
I’m no longer dizzy. I’ve been allowed to shower and put on my street clothes. Yeah, a hospital shower with antiseptic smelling
shampoo that turns hair into straw.
Lying on the bed to wait for James, I’ve been drifting on and off, sheer exhaustion pulling at my lids. They’re releasing
me with instructions that James watch over me for the next twelve hours.
The hollow feeling in my chest grows. I don’t want James.
The door opens, another nurse coming to poke at me. But it isn’t a nurse. Emotion punches into me, a fist to my aching chest,
a sharp squeeze of my tender heart.
Finn.
He looks about as good as I feel, eyes bloodshot, the skin bruised beneath them, his hair matted on one side and sticking up on the other. I soak in the sight of him like water on parched earth.
His blue gaze darts over me as if he doesn’t know what to focus on first, or that he can’t yet take in the whole of me. Tension
rides his body, making it visibly tremble. Then his eyes meet mine. He looks haunted, ripped apart.
I swallow with difficulty. “Hey.”
When he speaks, his voice is a ghost of its former self. “Hey.” He takes a step into the room and closes the door behind him.
“I got here as soon as I could. Flights were scarce.”
He’s here, that’s all that matters to me. I should sit up, make myself appear strong and capable and all that. But, unless
someone comes to wheel my ass out of here, I’m not moving.
“I think I was hit by a guy on a bike.” Everything’s kind of hazy, but I remember two wheels and a handlebar.
The grooves around his mouth deepen. “You were.”
He moves like an old man, making his way to my side. I watch him come, little tremors quaking in my belly. I want to hug him
so badly my arms twitch, but they’re too heavy to move.
He sits in the chair by my bedside, his body too big for its stingy frame. Up close, he looks worse, careworn and exhausted.
I empathize.
“Is the guy okay?” My memory is fairly shitty right now. Apparently, concussions can do that to a person.
“Couple of scrapes. Broken wrist.” Finn’s expression is blank, barely a flicker of movement. He glances down at my hand resting
on the bed.
“How ironic. Mine just healed.”
The corners of his mouth pinch. “Love that you can joke. Two times, I’ve had to hear you were in the hospital.” Blue eyes
pin me to the spot. “That’s two times too many.”
“It’s not like I planned this.”
He grunts.
“I’m not even a clumsy person. Both times, they ran into me.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of looking both ways, Chester?” He actually glares.
“It was a one-way street. Who thinks to look for rando bikers going the wrong way?”
“You do. From now on. Jesus.” He wipes a hand over his mouth. “My heart can’t take another call like that, okay?”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” I am. Not for getting hit, but for putting that look of abject fear in his eyes.
Finn scowls. “Don’t be sorry. How do you feel?”
“Fuzzy.” I blink down at my body. The inside of my elbow has a bandage on it from where they put an IV in earlier. A saline
drip that had provided cool relief and, later, some very exceptional painkillers. One thing to love about a hospital, I guess.
“I can’t remember what I look like. Give me a damage report.”
His throat works on a swallow. “A few scrapes and bruises on your right temple and cheek.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“Debatable.”
This is not the reunion I’d planned. Finn is here and clearly worried about me, but he’s distant and fairly humming with some
emotion I can’t figure out. My memory clears a little more and a bolt of horror hits me. “Oh, shit.”
Instantly, Finn jolts as if pinched. “What? Are you hurting? Talk to me.”
“Jake. How is he?”
Finn settles down with a scowl, then rubs a hand over his face. “He sprained his neck. And, like you, has a concussion. He’s
out for the season but, all in all, he got lucky.”
“I saw it happen. I was so scared.”
Finn pales, and his lashes lower. “Me, too.”
“I know. I should have been there.”
Finn glares down at his fists.
I want to touch him, stroke away the stiffness along his neck and shoulders. But he looks as if one touch will shatter him, and I don’t know what to say to bridge the gap between us. “Did you win?”
The muscle on his jaw bunches. “Yes. We weren’t going down without a fight.”
But there’s no emotion in his words. He keeps glaring at his fists as if he’s thinking of punching something. I don’t know
what to do.
“You were magnificent,” I tell him with a soft voice.
He grunts.
“Are you mad at me?”
“Yes.”
It lashes like a whip.
I bite my lower lip, look away, blinking hard.
None of the harshness leaves his voice. “I’m trying not to lose it.”
Guilt pulls at my heart. He witnessed his best friend get knocked out on the field.
Jake could have died, and I know how much that affects Finn.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” My voice is a thread, reaching out for him.
Silence greets me instead. The force of his stare is a heavy hand on my chest. I turn to face him.
Wide eyes filled with outrage and anger glare back at me. “You think I’d be anywhere else than at your side?”
“Jake—”
“God . . .” Finn laughs but then, without warning, his eyes well up and his lips twist. I stare in shock as his chin quivers,
and he lets out a harsh exhale that ends in a strangled sob.
“Hey,” I whisper.
His chest heaves, a horrible, pained movement, and he leans in, resting his head on my belly. “Fuck, Chess,” he says on a
choked breath. His arm slings around my hips, fingers clutching my side. “You have no idea what it does to me to see you like
this. I cannot stand seeing you hurt. I can’t.”
I stroke his hair. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“It’s not okay.” He lifts his head and looks at me with eyes that are wet. “I got that call from James telling me I needed
to get to the hospital because you were there, and my life fucking stopped. Do you understand? Your life stops, mine does,
too.”
My heart swells in the hollow cavity of my chest. “Oh, Finn. Come here.”
But he doesn’t listen. He sits back in his chair, his expression resolute and hard, as he wipes his eyes. “So, yeah, I’m mad.
You left me. And you got hurt. You can’t get hurt. And you can’t leave me again, Chester. I won’t survive.”
My big, strong man waits for an answer, his body tense, silvery trails of tears running down his cheeks. He’s left his heart
wide-open for me, without shame or hesitation.
My vision wavers, and I blink to clear it. When I’m able to speak, emotion garbles my words. “Take my hand.”
Shaking, I hold out my own, waiting.
Finn’s brows pinch, his gaze darting from my face to my hand. I meet his eyes and hold his gaze. Does he know what I’m asking?
Does he understand? Emotion bounces between us, and then, all at once, his expression clears. A small smile unfurls as he
reaches out.
His warm, rough palm presses against mine. Our fingers thread. Something inside me settles into place with a silent click.
I give Finn’s hand a squeeze. “I was coming to find you. To tell you that I love you.”
He lets out a breath. And then he’s crawling into bed with me, tucking my body around his hard strength. Soft lips brush my
temple. Finn cups my cheek with infinite care. “I love you so much, it scares me.”
I lean into his touch with a sigh. “That was my problem, too. But I’m not scared anymore.” My fingers toy with his longer
ones. “I think no matter how my life played out I would have found you. I would have loved you.”
His eyes squeeze shut and when he opens them, they are shining. “You’re my fate, Chess. I’ve known that since the beginning. I was meant to be yours.”
“I told James that you were my fate.”
He gives me a knowing smile. “Some things were meant to be.”
I huff out a laugh. “That song . . . A band started playing it, right in the middle of my dinner. Every person in the place
was singing along. How am I supposed to ignore a sign like that?”
He laughs. “You don’t.”
I lay my head on his shoulder, and we both rest. The steady beat of his heart soothes me. Finn strokes my knuckles with an
idle touch.
“I’m sorry I left the way I did,” I finally say.
Finn stirs. “I wasn’t hearing you when you said you were afraid. Not the way you needed me to hear it, anyway.”
He turns his hand so that my palm rests on his and he’s now holding me. “You think I need to father a child to be happy because
of what I lost. It was easier for me to brush that aside with quick assurances than to really ask myself if that was true.”
A tremor goes through me, and he tightens his grip as if he knows I want to pull away. Finn’s voice is steady and sure, but
taut with a hint of wryness. “Football is easy, if you want to know the truth. Easy in the way that I’m gifted. I can do it
well. If I fail, it’s all on me. I can control that.”
Long fingers curl over mine. “I never really lost anything that mattered to me until the baby. I couldn’t control that. It
changed me, made me afraid. What I feel for you is fucking terrifying because I can’t control you, either. I can only love
you and hope for the best—that you’ll love me back, that I can keep you safe and happy.”
“I am happy,” I whisper, turning farther into his body to press close. “You’ve always made me happy. I panicked, but I shouldn’t
have. Because you are worth any risk.”
He lets that absorb, pressing his lips to my head. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, Chess. But I owe you an answer. Because I panicked, too. And I should have taken that same risk.”
Nerves pluck at my belly. I don’t know why; he loves me. I love him. I know my worth, and I know he sees it, too. But some
feelings cannot be changed, no matter how much you want to ignore them. I let him have his say.
Maybe it’s hard for him, because he takes his time, measuring his words as if they have weight.
“Thing is, when I lost my child . . . I lost someone to love. I didn’t realize it until then, but I needed that. I needed
love in my life. Someone who makes all the effort worth it.” Finn shifts on the bed so that we’re face-to-face. “I love you,
Chester Copper. More than anything. It isn’t a matter of that being good enough, it is essential. You take yourself out of
the equation and the rest has no meaning.”
I don’t know who moves first. Our kisses are soft and sweet, apologies mixed with promises. After a lingering press of his
mouth to mine, Finn strokes the sensitive side of my neck with the backs of his fingers. “You want to adopt a child, employ
a surrogate, do both, that’s what we’ll do. But I don’t need that. Not now.”
“I don’t need that now, either. I’m happy with it being just us.”
His cheek brushes mine. “Whatever we choose, we’ll do it together. As long as we’re together, Chess.”
“Together.” It is a word ripe with possibilities, and I cannot wait.