time as I join their circle of people. Guess he arrived while I was with Kay.
“Romeo here is trying to get the nurses to like him by showing off a little skin.” E hooks a thumb in my direction only to get a backhand to the chest from Bette.
“Don’t be an asshole, Eric,” Bette admonishes.
“Oh-ho-ho,” JT chortles. “Watch out, old man—it never ends well for you when she calls you Eric.”
There’s more eye rolling—Kay’s proclivity is becoming a damn epidemic in our group—but respect and gratitude shine in JT’s eyes, telling me someone told him the real reason I’m shirtless and he’s giving me shit because that’s what guys do when we can’t handle serious emotions.
“Thanks, man,” I tell him when he hands me a shirt from his duffle bag that sits on one of the chairs. I pull the white cotton over my head; it’s a bit snug, but it fits.
Joke time over, E falls back into the conversation he was having with nurse Vicki and Jordan. “So do you think it’s possible to get a room in…fuck…I don’t know…” E runs another hand through his hair, the already disheveled strands becoming wilder. “A more secure wing or something?”
“Eric…” Nurse Vicki gives his shoulder a squeeze.
“I know.” E lets out a heavy sigh, his head falling forward, his chin tucking into his chest. “I worry with the press coverage from after the game and what I’m sure is getting spun from all this”—he circles a finger in the air, indicating the hospital and the reasons that brought us here—“these new pictures will bring out all the vultures.”
Is that a real possibility? Could this grow to something more than campus fodder?
Somewhere in the distance, the elevator dings, and then B bursts into the room, his sneakers making a nails-on-a-chalkboard-type squeal as he pulls up short.
“B?” E’s eyes bug out and his brows hit his hairline at the sight of Ben Turner, the Crabs’ quarterback. “What are you doing here?”
“What the fuck?” B squares off against his best friend, his hands braced on his hips. “You think I wouldn’t want to come too?”
“The game.” E doesn’t say it, but his tone gives off the implied duh.
“You think that’s what’s important here?” B tosses his arms up.
“There’s no way you got approval to miss the game too.”
“Fuck that.” B smacks E’s chest, the sound reverberating through the room, every set of eyes bouncing between the two of them, watching in rapt attention. “I’ll take the fine. Our girl needs us more. Family sticks together.”
All the defiance drains out of E at the reminder of their mismatched family unit.
“Like, I’m seriously pissed at you, bro. You text me asking me to take care of Herkie because Kay’s in the hospital and you have to leave for Jersey. What. The. Actual. Fuck?”
“Where is my dog?” E asks defensively.
“Don’t take that tone with me.” B sticks a finger in E’s face, sounding scarily like Bette. “I picked him up and dropped him off at your house here before coming here.”
“You”—E pokes B, his finger bending back with the force—“let my”—he hooks his thumb back at himself—“dog in your”—his hand reverses direction again—“Ferrari?” E’s jaw drops, and Bette slips a finger under it to pick it up off the floor.
“Hell no.” B tosses his head back with a laugh. “When I grabbed him, I availed myself to your Escalade too.” He reaches into his pocket, twirling the keyring around his finger. “Figured you need something to drive, and it has enough room to fit everyone, both the two- and four-legged variety.”
“Thanks B.” Bette frees herself from under E’s arm to finally give him a proper hug hello, shooting her scowling-again husband a Be nice glare.
“Oh-kay.” JT claps his hands, shouldering his way in, clearly used to the way these two interact. “Now that that’s out of the way, can we bring the focus back to Kay?”
“Whoa. Dude.” E falls back a couple of steps. “Don’t call her Kay. Freaks me out when you do.”
JT chuckles. “She says the same thing.”
“True story,” Tessa agrees from somewhere behind me.
“Man…” E pulls B into a headlock, noogie-ing him. “Kay is going to give you so much shit for being here.”
“Me?” B threads an arm between them and delivers a purple nurple to set himself free. “Wait until she realizes what you being here is going to do to her fantasy score for the week.”
“Why am I even friends with you?” E rubs at his sore nipple.