Hayden’s gray eyes were droopy and glazed when they passed over me but the smallest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. His face was bruised, mostly around his eye, and a deep cut split his lip. His foot was elevated in a cast and although he was shirtless, his entire torso was wrapped in thick, white, bandages.
“Fuck, I must be reallllllly hurt,” his eyes jumped from me to Anderson, “if you two showed up at my deathbed.”
“You’re not dying, asshole,” Anderson said, but I heard the way the words were forced out of his throat. He was freaking out, too. “I do think maybe you’ve lost your handsome looks for good, though.”
Hayden shifted his attention to me. “What do you think? Are my modeling days over?”
I inhaled, trying to steady myself from wave after wave of emotions rolling through me. My hands clenched around the bed railing and I thought of myself on the other side, when they looked down on me like this, and I don’t think I ever comprehended how much fear they had until this very moment.
“Heaven,” he said. “I’m going to be fine. Promise.”
“I just had to make sure you were okay. I saw the game—watched it—and when you went down, I don’t know. We called and there was no information and no one would say anything and I just panicked.” My hands shook so bad that I barely noticed when Anderson took one in his. “Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?”
Hayden’s eyes locked with mine. “Wait…you watched my game?”
I nodded and he smiled lazily, pleased.
Anderson walked over to the table and returned with a handful of tissues. I took them and wiped my face. “Tell me what I can do.”
He glanced between the two of us and said, “Just sit with me? I’m pretty sure I’m going to crash in about five minutes, but sitting with me would be great. Just knowing you’re here helps.” His words were already slurred. I stepped forward and tentatively took his hand, linking his fingers with mine. A spark passed through me, one of familiarity. I squeezed tight and ran my hand over his short hair as he exhaled and his eyes fluttered shut.
12
Heaven
The alarm on my phone trilled and I quickly stopped it before it woke up the two sleeping beauties in the room. It was 10 p.m., and the alarm was for my medication, not sleep. Regardless, neither moved an inch. Hayden was helped by doses of painkillers and Anderson, in the uncomfortable chair, from sheer exhaustion. His long legs sprawled under the bed and his hands were crammed in his hoodie pockets. I knew he had the ability to sleep anywhere; partly from being male but also from so many long days at meets.
I quietly crept into the bathroom, rummaging through my purse for my medication. I’d been on it since freshman year, with a few alterations here and there. It definitely helped keep my depression in balance. That didn’t mean every day was a good day. Depression didn’t work that way, but the meds kept me a little more even and the demons at bay.
I popped two pills in my mouth and took a swig of water from the bottle by the sink. A glance in the mirror told me I looked like hell. My brown hair felt greasy and needed a wash. Red rimmed my eyes from exhaustion and tears. But inside it felt right to be here. I knew how much it meant to wake up in a hospital bed and find someone you care about waiting for you.
He’d done it for me and I’d do it back.
I opened the door and Anderson consumed the doorway, his eyes bleary with sleep, although not tired enough to not notice the two bottles of medication in my hand. I shoved them in my bag.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I dragged my hand through my hair. “Just trying to wake up a little.”
He grunted and we swapped places. When he appeared a few minutes later, Hayden was awake and the doctor had come in to check his progress.
“Mr. Pierce will be in testing most of tomorrow and they’ll start early. The doctor wants to do an MRI for the concussion and X-rays on his knee,” the assisting male nurse said, adjusting Hayden’s bed. We’d been in the room for close to twenty-four hours. Every surface was covered in coffee cups and plastic wrappers from the vending machine food. “I suggest you go home for the night and rest.”
“I’ll stay,” I said, glancing at Hayden. “I don’t mind.”
“Bab—” He stopped the endearment. “Heaven, seriously. Go take a nap.”
“I’m fine.”
“Thompson,” he glared at Anderson, “get her the hell out of here. She’s about to crash.”
“You don’t want me to stay?” I asked.
His eyes flicked over me. “I want you to rest. Take a nap. Eat some protein.” He jerked his head at Anderson. “My boy needs a…” He grappled for the word, but finally adds, “shower.”
Anderson rubbed his face and head, sending his reddish-brown hair into disheveled spikes. I had a feeling if I didn’t go, Anderson wouldn’t either, so I finally relented.
“Fine. I’ll head out for a few hours and be back tonight, okay?”