Just a Bit Wrong (Straight Guys 4)

“Bugger off and stop bothering me. Don’t you see I’m busy?”

“Fine. I’ll leave you to your self-pity.”

Tristan opened his eyes and glared at him. “All right. Talk.”

“Stop being such a quitter,” Gabriel said quietly, a small furrow between his brows. “Yeah, it sucks, but it could have been worse. Like, you could have damaged your spine and could have been paralyzed. Trust me, it sucks much more. When I got injured, the doctors said I could never walk again, much less play football. But I never gave up and here I am.”

“Yeah, you’re stronger and better than me. Nothing new here. Now get the hell out of here.” To his utter mortification, his voice got suspiciously thick, and Tristan glared harder at his adoptive brother.

Pursing his lips, Gabriel left, muttering something under his breath.

When the door shut behind him, Tristan closed his eyes again.

It was easy for Gabe to say. When Gabe had been injured, he had Jared to hold his hand and hug it better. Tristan had no one. Not that he needed anyone.

Tristan buried his face in the pillow. It smelled of hospital disinfectant.

If his eyes were wet, well, his leg was broken to pieces and his career was over. It was as good excuse as any.

Chapter 27

The problem with visiting football stars in hospitals was the fact that it was pretty much impossible. He was no longer Tristan’s physiotherapist, nor was he a relative.

Zach glanced around the hospital lobby and tried Jared’s number again, and again got his voice mail.

“Zach?”

He looked up, relief coursing through him when he saw Gabriel. “How is he?”

Gabriel gave him a strange look. “You’re here because of Tristan?”

Was it so hard to believe?

“Yes,” Zach said, a little harder than he had intended. He wasn’t sure how much Gabe knew, anyway. “Is he okay?”

Gabriel pulled a face. “He’s as bitchy and difficult as usual. But…well, you’ve probably seen the injury, yeah?”

Zach nodded jerkily. Of course he had. He hadn’t seen it live on TV—he had been leaving Donna’s place at the time—but he looked it up after Nick had called him, sounding freaked out.

“It looked gruesome,” he said roughly. As a physiotherapist, he’d seen some terrible injuries, but seeing Tristan’s leg broken in multiple places, with bones sticking out and blood everywhere, made him ill and helplessly furious.

“It looked worse in person,” Gabriel said, grimacing. “A couple of our players actually threw up. I’ve seen broken legs before, but this is something else. The FA disqualified those morons.”

“Good.” Zach took a deep breath and unclenched his fist. “How is he?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Jared says the surgery went well, but Tristan will need extensive physiotherapy. He’ll walk again soon enough, but as far as his professional career goes…” He shrugged again.

Zach couldn’t say he was surprised. As soon as he had seen the extent of Tristan’s injury, he knew the implications of it. “I want to see him. Can you get me in?”

Cocking his head to the side, Gabriel studied him. “Why? I think he’s upset enough.”

“Not to be rude, Gabe, but since when do you give a shit about him?”

“I don’t,” Gabriel said immediately, flushing. “I really don’t.”

Zach shook his head. The DuVal brothers had the strangest relationship. “You both have issues.”

Gabriel gave him a lopsided smile. “I’m not gonna argue with that. But at least I’m not emotionally constipated like him.”

Zach wasn’t going to argue with that. “I’ve got to talk to him, Gabe.”

“Not sure talking to him now is a good idea. He told me to leave him alone.”

“No offense, but I’m not you.”

“There’s that.” Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest. “But what do you want with him?”

Zach almost smiled. For all of Gabe’s claims that he didn’t care about his brother at all, he gave the opposite impression. “I’ll tell Tristan what I want with him. After you get me inside.”

Gabriel eyed him for a moment before nodding and motioning him to follow him. “Let’s go.”

On the VIP floor, Gabriel came to a halt in front of the door and turned to Zach. “If you make me regret it, you will—”

“You’re cute when you try threatening people like Tristan does,” Zach said with a smile before dropping it and looking Gabriel in the eye. “Maybe you should actually tell him you care. You’re the closest thing he has to a family.”

Gabe made a face and said reluctantly, “I’ll think about it.”

Opening the door, Zach entered the room and shut it quietly.

His eyes zeroed in on the figure on the bed. His gaze skimmed over the cast on Tristan’s leg before stopping on Tristan’s nape. Tristan had his face buried in the pillow, his fingers clenching the pillow so hard his knuckles were white. The knot of worry that had taken up permanent residence in Zach’s stomach since he’d found out about the injury coiled tighter as a wave of possessive protectiveness surged through him.