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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

S itting on my couch, I read over an assignment on my laptop for an accounting class. This should be easy, but…math. As I scratched my temple, my phone buzzed on the cushion next to me. Who the hell was calling now? I picked up the phone and peered at it, the screen reading, JJ.

“What the fuck?” Why would he call me? I answered the call and held the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Cooper, I need you to come to the ER at Tempe St. Luke’s,” JJ said.

“Why?” Shutting my laptop, I stood and scanned the empty house. Myles would return in an hour. “Are you hurt?” And why would he call me and not Casey?

“No, it’s Myles.”

My pulse froze. God no. “What do you mean?” As I stepped into the kitchen, I plucked my keys off the island. I needed to leave here, and fast. “JJ, what happened to him?”

“He was in an accident with a fucking motorized scooter.” He scowled. “And hurt his knee. He’s getting a CT scan now. He needs you, not me.”

He had that right. “Okay, I’m on my way.” I jogged to the front door and threw it open, stopping in my tracks .

A brown-suited man stood in the entry, his hand poised to knock. “Oh, hello. I’m Myles’s father.” He tilted his head, eyeing me. “Have we met? You look familiar.” He stretched his hand out.

Fucking hell. Not now. I gaped for a beat.

“Yeah, I think we might have met back when Myles was in high school. I’m an old friend of his.

” My heart pinched. Myles was far more than a friend.

But he wasn’t out to his family. As I shook his hand, I said, “My name is Cooper Hayes.” The guy had the same large, brown eyes as Myles, but his hair was dark and graying in the temples.

"Oh, you play football, right?” He freed my hand. “Is Myles home?” Swaying his head, he looked inside the house. “I have a surprise for him. I was here for a league meeting, and I got tickets for the game?—”

“No, he’s not here. He’s ah, I just got a call that he’s in the ER.” Fuck. Why did this happen now? I closed the door behind me. “If you want to come with me, I’ll take you to him.” I strode past him and to my waiting truck parked in front of the house.

“My God, what happened to him?” His father followed me to my truck.

“Something about a motorized scooter. He hurt his knee. That’s all I know.” I unlocked the truck and climbed inside. Hadn’t Myles been complaining about his knee? But was this even the same one?

After his father stepped into the truck, I started the engine and took off.

I parked in the lot at Tempe St. Luke’s. This was the hospital all the teams used at ASU, so I was pretty sure his team doctor had already been called. I glanced at Myles’s dad as we left the truck. Fortunately, the hospital was only a five-minute drive. The silence on the way over was deafening .

We hurried through the automated sliding glass doors under a large metal awning and stopped at a triage desk in the corner. With a peek at Myles’s dad, I said, “Hi, Myles Cummings is in the ER, and we need to see him.”

“Are you family?” a keyboard-tapping man in blue scrubs asked.

“Yes, I’m his father.” He straightened his spine, looking the young man over.

“Okay, I’ll let you in and take you to him. He should be finished with imaging by now.” The man in scrubs stood.

A large door swung open to our left, and we walked through it.

“Right this way.” The man held his arm out and strolled past closed curtains and rooms, along with a nurse’s station.

As we trailed behind the man, my stomach tied in knots. I fisted my hands and released them. How bad off was Myles? Not just physically, but emotionally? And how the hell would I keep my feelings for him from spilling over in front of his dad?

We came to a partially opened curtain and JJ stood there, texting. He looked up from his phone. “Oh good, you’re here.” He furrowed his brows.

I stopped next to Myles’s bed rail, looking him over. A thin hospital blanket covered his lower half, with his one leg exposed in a brace. An ice pack rested on his knee.

Myles lifted inside the bed and snatched my hand. “Cooper, thank God you’re here. I wanted to call you, but—” Myles halted, his mouth falling open and his gaze locking on his father. “Uh, Dad? What are you doing here?” He dropped my hand.

Fuck, I should have stopped him. But I couldn’t think straight. I faced his dad. Did he even notice the hand holding bit?

Clearing his throat, his dad glanced at me and then faced Myles. “What happened?”

After a peek at me, Myles said, “One of those motorized scooters hit me.” He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw. “I think my foot got caught under the wheel and I wrenched my knee.”

JJ scoffed. “They’re not allowed on walkways, but this guy was a newbie.”

“I wonder if it was the same asshole who almost hit me a few weeks ago?” Shit, I swore in front of Myles’s father. I stared at Mr. Cummings.

“Yeah, well, it looks like Myles is in expert hands, so I’ll leave you to it.” JJ briefly greeted Myles’s dad, said his goodbyes and left.

Myles hung his head. “I might have torn something.” He played with a fold in the blanket.

“Son, I’m so sorry this is happening right now.” He stepped to the side of the bed, wrapping his fingers around the rail. “Dean mentioned a scout from Seattle was visiting you this weekend.”

Myles freed a ragged exhale. “Yeah.” His voice cracked. “Was…”

Jesus fuck, I couldn’t watch him be this upset and not do anything. I was his fucking boyfriend. It was my job to take care of him. With my heart splitting apart, I reached for him, then wrenched my hand back.

His father’s gaze flicked to my hand. “This was supposed to be a surprise.” He gritted his teeth.

“I came here on business and heard about the scout, so I wanted to surprise you with tickets for the game tonight. I mean, five of your friends will play and it’s sold out…

” He huffed a breath. “This is terrible.” He turned and stepped from the bed, scanning the personnel walking by.

“Where is the damn doctor?” He rubbed his neck.

“I’m going to see if I can find him, eh. ” He stomped into the hallway.

“Myles.” I leaned toward him and whispered, “What do you want me to do?” ‘Cause right now it was awkward and heartbreaking as fuck .

“I don’t know.” He rubbed his eyes. “If the situation with the scout had worked out, I was going to tell my family about us. But now my life is fucking ruined.” His breath hitched, and he covered his mouth with his hands. A tear dropped onto the blanket.

“Fucking hell, Myles.” I couldn’t watch this and not do anything .

Throwing an arm around him, I held him to my chest and kissed his hair, brushing it off his face.

“I’m sure you’ll bounce back from this. I’ll help you.

I’ve been through this shit before. Freshman year, I hurt my damn knee.

I was out for six weeks, but now I’m better than ever. ”

“Do all football players hurt their knees? JJ said he hurt his too.” Myles clung to me, sniffling.

I snorted softly. “Pretty much. I guess it’s like hockey players losing teeth. It’s a rite of passage.”

A man cleared his throat. “I have the doctor here.”

Oh, no…I crept my gaze toward the sound. Of course, it was Mr. Cummings. I freed Myles and stepped back, my body tensing. If he hadn’t noticed the hand-holding and shit earlier, now it was clear that me and Myles were more than friends.

An older man in green scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck stood next to Myles’s dad.

“Looks like there’s no tear, so your knee appears to be sprained. There’s some swelling, but that’s expected. I want you to stay in the brace and follow the RICE protocol.” He lifted his brows. “Being a hockey player, I assume you’re familiar with it?”

“Of course, rest, ice, compression and elevation.” Myles breathed in deeply. “How long until I can play?”

“Four to six weeks. Your trainer will have some physical therapy lined up for you when you can manage. In the meantime, the knee will probably feel unstable.” He wagged a finger at Myles. “Wear the brace as much as possible.”

With a glance at his father, Myles said, “I will.”

“Good, then I’ll sign your release orders.” The doctor tapped the bed rail. “I’ve already sent your records to the team doctor. ”

“Thank you, doc.” Myles peeked at his dad as the doctor left us. “I suppose you want to know what else is going on?”

Planting his hands on his hips, his father said, “I’m pretty sure I have an idea, but let’s not have that conversation here.” He gave Myles a stern look.

With glossy eyes, Myles winced and peeked at his father. “Dad, I was going to?—”

“Not now.” Mr. Cummings held his palm to Myles. “Let’s get you home and then we’ll hash this out.” He flashed his eyes at me. “I’m going to leave you both alone. I’ll be in the waiting room. I have some phone calls to make.” Lifting his chin, he stomped away.

“He doesn’t even want to be in the same room with me.” Sagging his shoulder, Myles stared at his injured leg. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” His glistening gaze found mine. “Your parents were so cool about us being together.”

“I know.” I rubbed my hand across his back, thinking about my parents’ reaction.

“They were shocked at first, though.” What parent wouldn’t be?

Especially if they’d only seen their kid in hetero relationships.

“Maybe your dad needs time to think through it.” A sharp laugh sprang from my throat.

“Hell, he’s probably out there calling your mom right now. ”

“No…” He stared at me, hanging his mouth open. As he hooked a brow, he said, “You think?”

“Maybe. Isn’t that what parents do when one of their kids is in trouble?” I snickered. “Not that being gay means you’re in trouble. You know what I mean.” Shit, was I making any sense?

“I hope Mom is taking it well.” He sighed.

A man walked to us with a computer on a rolling cart. “Time to get you out of here.” He typed on the keyboard. “A nurse will bring you crutches and explain everything.”