And not the good kind of rooted that involved a warm, willing woman and a king-size bed. The kind that came from a long flight and the crossing of so many time zones various parts of his body were still catching up. His brain was back in Sydney, his stomach in Fiji, and his arse was in Hawaii. He was pretty sure his dick had ditched somewhere in the interminable expanse of the Pacific Ocean.
His legs—or his right one, anyway—was in purgatory, a fact blatantly evident as he hauled himself up a staircase right out of Downton fucking Abbey in the dead of night with this goddamn walking stick he hated more than he hated losing a game of rugby. Unfortunately, there was no way on Earth he’d have made the climb without the offending article. His right hip bitched at him, and his thigh screamed in protest with every lift of his foot, and if he hadn’t needed to get horizontal so badly, he’d just give up and lay down on the steps.
For a guy who’d regularly put his body through high-intensity, high-impact rugby games and vigorous bouts of training that would break a lesser man and still be fit and raring for more, he felt like a giant, clumsy, useless baby instead of a grown man of thirty-two. But between the accident, his injuries, multiple surgeries, and a three-hour drive, on top of his never-fucking-ending long-haul flight, he was weaker than a newborn.
And he was still only halfway up the goddamn stairs.
Leaning heavily on his cane on one side and the railing to the other, Cole gritted his teeth and stoically powered to the top, grunting in relief as the floor evened out and the pain went down several notches. He’d been trying not to take his painkillers because they made him too fuzzy, but he’d have killed for a couple now as he contemplated which way to turn.
According to Wade, his house had multiple bedrooms, so it probably wouldn’t matter.
Collecting himself, Cole turned right, venturing forth carefully in the dark. It was a moonless night outside, and, with Wade and CC not currently in residence, there were no stray lights left on. At least with the blinding spots of pain clearing slowly, his night vision had kicked in, but it was still dark, and he was in unfamiliar territory.
And if that wasn’t a metaphor for his life, he didn’t know what was.
He halted at the first doorway on his right and reached for the knob. It turned easily—soundlessly—to reveal a room even darker than the rest of the house. He could just make out the canopy of what appeared to be a massive four-poster bed, and that was all the information Cole’s brain required. A bed meant taking the weight off his leg, and he was blind to everything else as he crossed to the monstrosity.
Making an awkward turn, Cole parked his butt on the side of the mattress and propped his cane against the dark wood of what he assumed was a bedside table. Gently, he toed off his shoes and socks then pulled his shirt over his head. His hands trembled as they unzipped his fly, and he gritted his teeth as he lifted tenuously from side to side to ease his jeans down his hips, pushing them clear of his thighs and finally kicking them off his ankles.
Normally, Cole slept naked, but removing his underwear was a bridge too far, as was pulling down the covers. Instead, he eased himself back, slowly swinging his legs onto the bed and lowering his head to the pillow.
Finally, finally, fucking finally.
The pain turned off like a faucet, settling instantly to a very manageable ache, and Cole almost groaned out loud—it felt that good. But groaning required expending energy he did not possess, so he just shut his eyes and let endorphins and fatigue tug him into the deep, dark layers of sleep.
…
Jane Spencer was utterly exhausted. And not the good kind of exhausted that came from a really good hot yoga session or a vigorous round of lovemaking.
She’d gone into a sleep deficit when she’d given birth to her son four years ago, and she’d never made it up. Between the colic and the reflux that had lasted an entire year and her business taking off about the same time as her ex had decided being a rock star was far more exciting than being a father, she’d resigned herself to never making