doctor’s face. “Ah, yes. I’ve fixed quite a few broken noses from the sport.”
“One injury you’ve never had, PF.” JT laughs around the pfff pronunciation of Kay’s nickname.
“Yeah, congrats, bro.” E snorts. “That’s one injury you didn’t check off when failing to catch her,” he says sarcastically.
“Aww.” JT folds his hands over his heart and flutters his eyelashes. “Don’t knock my catching skills because they’re better than yours, E.”
“Says the cheerleader to the professional football player.”
“Says the person who catches a ball to the one who catches people.”
“Will you two idiots behave?” Bette slaps E on the chest with the back of her hand. “This nice doctor is going to think we surround Kay with animals.”
Across the room, Grayson and CK do their best to smother their laughter while Em and B let their guffaws fly free.
Dr. Nikols shakes her head, but with the way she rolls her lips in as if to hide another smile, you can tell she’s amused by the antics. She writes something on Kay’s chart and turns her attention to Bette, who has moved to hover next to the bed.
“When can we take her home?” Bette asks the question we are all anxious to have the answer to.
“Everything seems to be tracking nicely.” Dr. Nikols closes Kay’s chart. “As long as her vitals remain stable, I don’t see why she couldn’t be discharged tomorrow.”
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Thank you, doctor.” Bette reaches out to shake her hand.
“You’re very welcome.” She casts a look around the room. “Try to keep it down in here, okay?”
We’re all quick to agree before she takes her leave. We appreciate them turning a blind eye to us breaking their protocols, and there’s no way any of us will risk losing the leeway we’ve been given.
It isn’t long after the doctor’s departure that the door to the room is once again pushed open, bringing the re-arrival of Jordan Donovan with it. Gone is the casual but in charge publicist who spent the middle of the night troubleshooting in a hoodie and leggings. No, this version—the one dressed in straight-legged black leather pants, strappy pointed spike heels, a white silk blouse with a black skinny tie, the knot hanging loosely down by her chest, and a fitted black suit jacket—is the famed PR powerhouse.
“Oh good”—she glances around the room, setting her bag on the floor, not caring about the designer label, and taking a seat on the arm of the couch closest to Kay—“you’re all up.”
“Kind of hard to sleep through people poking and prodding you,” Kay says dryly.
A ghost of a smile forms on Jordan’s lips as she pulls out her trusty iPad. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll live.”
“You fucking better,” I mutter as I grind my teeth.
Kay groans when she attempts to roll her eyes. “Chill, Caveman.” She lifts her arm, holding out a hand to me. “Come here.”
My eyes narrow at how callously she brushes off what happened to her, like I didn’t spend the most painful, most stressful couple of hours of my existence wondering if she would live.
Blood—fuck, I can’t get the vision of it out of my head. I swear I still feel the sting of every time I begged her to open her eyes without getting a response.
“Mase.” She wiggles her fingers, my feet already closing the distance between us, unable to ignore the plea in her voice.
I weave my fingers between hers and squeeze, probably harder than I should. I whisper an apology while trying to shake off the last of those dark thoughts. It’s hard. My life before Kay came into it pales in comparison to these past few months with her. Who would want to lose that?
Her thumb moves to trace figure eights down the length of mine. Even concussed, she’s still able to read my mood enough to know to soothe me. I lift her hand and kiss the back of it.
“You up for hearing plans A through”—Jordan tilts her head from side to side like she’s trying to calculate something—“H?”
“H?” I ask.
“Give or take.” She nods. “Before my partner Skye got on a plane to come here from Chicago, I think we were able to come up with eight scenarios.”
“Skye’s flying in?” E shifts to lean forward, bracing his elbows on his spread knees.
“Yup.” Jordan shifts her attention to him. “My gut tells me we’re going to need all hands on deck for this.”
“Shit.” Kay curses beside me, and this time I’m the one soothing