When the sandwiches and salads I’d ordered came, everyone gathered together around the kitchen island.
“So…” I cleared my throat. “I wanted to talk to you guys while you were here.”
“You’re coming out, aren’t you?” my brother Will said, leaning back in his seat. “I knew it.”
“What? No.”
“If you’re gambling again, you’re going to be the only one going into the hockey game bruised up,” Tate said.
“You better not be caught up in some harassment shit,” Ethan said.
“Sex tape.” My brother Lucas nodded. “It’s definitely a sex tape. I really don’t want to see your junk flashed all over the news, dude.”
I shook my head. “What the hell is wrong with all of you?”
“I know I dropped Will on his head once,” my mom said. “But the rest of you have no excuse. Let your brother talk.”
I chuckled. “Thanks, Mom.”
The room grew quiet, and all eyes turned to me. Damn. This isn’t as easy to say as I thought it would be.
I took a deep breath. “I’m having surgery next Tuesday.”
My mother was more in the loop than the others, so she understood before I explained anything else. She walked over and patted my hand.
“What kind of surgery?” Will asked. “Penile enhancement?”
“No, dipshit. The kind they can’t perform on you since you lack the organ. Brain surgery. I decided to have the aneurysm removed. It’s grown, and I think it’s time.”
“Oh, shit,” Tate said. “You okay?”
I nodded. “I’m fine.”
“Does your new team know?” Ethan asked.
“Not yet. I’m telling my agent tomorrow morning. I figured he’d have some advice about the best way to handle it.”
“What’s the doctor have to say?” Tate asked.
“Who’s doing it?” Will asked.
“How long is the recovery?” Ethan chimed in.
Over the next hour, we ate lunch and I filled them in on everything the doctor had said and answered all their questions. Once everyone seemed satisfied, I excused myself and went to the bathroom in my bedroom to get some more Motrin. Then I stood out on the balcony to get some quiet fresh air.
My brother Tate followed me out and watched me take the pills.
“What are those?”
“Motrin. I can’t get this headache to go away the last few days.”
He nodded. “Stress will do that to you.”
I finished off a bottle of water. “I need a favor from you,” I said.
“Name it.”
“If something goes wrong, and I don’t…you know. I need you to promise me you’ll go tell Georgia in person before word gets out on the news.”
“Nothing is going to go wrong. But yeah, of course. You have my word.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks.”
“What about when everything goes right? Where does this leave you two? You finally going to pull your head out of your ass and try to get your girl back?”
I smiled. “Try? You mean try to stop me.”
Tate laid a hand on my shoulder. “You know when you know it’s real?”
“When?”
“When the thought of being without her doesn’t scare you half as much as brain surgery.”
CHAPTER 30
* * *
Georgia
I opened the front door of my apartment at 6 AM, and Maggie rushed in. “Did you see the news this morning?”
She had on pajama pants with big red hearts and a T-shirt that said V is for Valentine, but the word Valentine was crossed out and underneath it was the word Vodka. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and what looked like yesterday’s mascara was smeared beneath her eyes.
“No, why?” I asked. “And did you ride the subway like that? You look a little nutty.”
She took out her phone. “Max was injured last night.”
My heart stopped. “What? What are you talking about?”
She typed something into her cell and handed it to me. A news segment showed a hockey rink with a bunch of players down on one knee while paramedics worked on a player splayed out on the ice.
“During tonight’s Hockey for Alzheimer’s charity event,” the reporter said, “Max Yearwood, the newest member of the LA Blades, took a spill. He went down during the second period while attempting a slap shot. No contact was made, and as far as we can see, the incident was not due to an injury. He was transported to Cedars Sinai where he is reportedly in stable, but serious condition. No word yet on what caused the All Star to lose consciousness.”
“Oh my God. Stable but serious? What does that mean?”
“I Googled it on the way over. It said it means he’s probably in the ICU for a condition, but his vitals are stable.”
I felt frantic. “ICU? What could have happened?”
“I have no idea. But you have that meeting downtown with the bank this morning, and I was afraid you’d hear about it on your way and get upset. So I came over to tell you.”
I sat, holding Maggie’s phone out to her. “What do I do? His family all lives out of state. What if he’s alone? Should I go there?”