Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) - Lyssa Kay Adams Page 0,12
and when the door clicked shut, it was as loud as an air horn announcing to the world that they were alone. Vlad tried twice to speak but failed both times as she inched toward his bed. He still didn’t trust that he was actually awake. This could all just be a hallucination to distract him from the nightmare of his reality. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him by dangling the illusion of the only thing he wanted more than hockey.
“Are you okay?” Elena set down her coffee next to his water and then rested her hands on the arm of his bed. “Can I do anything?”
He licked his dry lips as he reclined again. “How did you get here?”
“Josh got me a flight.”
Josh had said that he would call Vlad’s family. He hadn’t said anything about calling Elena. “I don’t understand. Why are you here?”
The brusqueness of the question, which was more a product of his shock than his intent, made her lips part in surprise. “Josh thought—I mean, we didn’t want you to be alone.”
That was the last thing he needed. Her pity. “I’m sorry he bothered you. You didn’t have to come.”
Her mouth fell open again. “He didn’t bother me. I thought—”
“Where’s my phone?”
She started again at his tone. “I—I don’t know. I think they put your stuff in the closet.”
“I need to check my messages.”
“I’m sure anyone who texted you will understand if you haven’t responded yet.”
“My parents—”
“I can call and update them.”
“I need to do it. My mom will get her hopes up.”
“She should. You’re going to be fine.”
He dragged a frustrated hand down his jaw. “About us, Elena. If she knows you’re here, she’ll get her hopes up about us. So just . . . just let me handle my own family.”
She reacted as if he’d reached across the arm of the bed and smacked her. Her eyes pinched at the corners as her lips tightened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let me find your phone, and I will step out so you can call them.”
She immediately turned away from him, giving him a chance to mentally punch his own face. That had been cruel. His parents were the only family she had left, and just because he and Elena were getting a divorce didn’t mean she was being exiled from them.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said, trying to make his voice convey sincerity.
She pulled open the door to the closet next to the bathroom. “They put all your things in here, I think.” Elena crouched and pulled his overstuffed duffel bag from the floor of the closet. “Do you mind if I go through this?”
“Elena, please, I’m trying to apologize.”
“For what?” She opened the zipper and started digging through the clothes he’d worn to the arena before the game and all the other things they’d pulled from his locker.
“They’re your family too.”
“Not for long, though, right?” She retrieved his phone and tugged the white charging cord out from the bottom of the bag. It was wrapped around a sock. “Found it.”
She shoved everything back in the bag, shut the closet door, and then returned to his side. She wouldn’t look at him as she plugged the phone into an outlet attached to the arm of the bed. “It will probably take a second to charge up.”
Her arms came around her torso in a pose he once found defensive, standoffish. Now it made her look small and insecure.
“Elena, look at me.”
She plastered a fake smile on her face as she raised her gaze to his.
“They will always be your family. Always.”
Her chin lifted and lowered in a single, noncommittal nod.
The phone screen blared white as it came back to life. Vlad punched in his passcode and then sighed heavily when he saw the number of notifications he’d missed. More than three hundred texts had come in overnight. Probably half were from the Bros alone. Another surge of guilt soured his mood even more.
The door swung open. A tall woman walked in wearing scrubs and a white doctor’s coat. Behind her was a familiar face from the team—head trainer Madison Keff. Both women paused to pump hand sanitizer into their palms from the dispenser on the wall before advancing farther into the room.
The doctor approached his bed with a wide smile. “Good to see you awake, Vlad.” She extended her hand to Elena. “I’m Dr. Celia Lorenzo. You must be Mrs. Konnikov.”
“Konnikova,” Elena corrected.
At the doctor’s look of confusion, Elena clarified. “Women in Russia