“Yeah,” he says, his voice gruff. “As good as I can be, I guess.”
“Will you need surgery?” his mom asks, cupping her hands on his cheeks and hitting him with that motherly worry.
He lifts his head again. “Unsure yet. I’m supposed to meet with the orthopedic surgeon tomorrow to go over next steps.”
“Well, we’ll deal with whatever happens, right?” his mom says, attempting to be optimistic.
He gives her a tight smile. It’s not his usual happy expression, hinting at his inner turmoil beneath the mask he’s putting on for his mom. “We sure will.” He glances between all of us. “Do you know how the game ended?” When no one answers right away, he deflates. “Was it bad?”
Andy grimaces and nods.
Hayes drops his head to his chest and huffs out a long breath. “Damn it.” He takes a moment, his jaw muscle ticking. He seems defeated when he turns to me. “Can we go home now?”
My throat tightens and I nod. “Of course.”
“Will you drive? They doped me up on some muscle relaxers and pain meds.”
We take our time as we make our way to the exit. While we walk, I call the number for the hospital’s valet to bring the car around to the front doors. The minute we step out of the hospital’s doors, we’re swarmed by reporters and cameras. Their questions fly at us, each one sending my nerves on edge.
“Hayes, how are you feeling?”
“Mr. Vogt, do you think you’ll be back in the game next week?”
“Hayes, what did your doctors say?”
“Jersey, do you feel guilty for distracting Hayes?”
“Jersey, how is your new album coming along?”
“Jersey, is it true you’re dating Corey Shrader again, too?”
I know they’re doing their jobs, trying to get the shot of Hayes’s current state after such a significant injury, but they’re only making a difficult situation harder.
Against my better judgment, I swing around and glower at them. “Don’t you all have something better to do? Leave us alone!”
Hayes eyes me with an eyebrow raised and holds out his hand for me. I weave my fingers through his and we focus again on getting to the car, keeping our heads down. The car is waiting for us right outside, so it’s not too much of a hassle.
He settles into the passenger seat, and I hop into the driver’s side. As I pull out of the parking lot, I scowl at the reporters still snapping photos of our departure. They have no understanding of privacy.
All my irritation disappears once we’re on the road, and Hayes quietly says, “I’m glad you were there tonight.”
“Me too,” I whisper, turning to him.
He exhales and rolls his head along the headrest to give me a somber smile. “I had great plans to bring home a win tonight. Sorry for disappointing.”
The emotion that I had discovered, but tucked away for later, comes rearing back at full force and my eyes burn. I will it back, blinking rapidly and focus on the road. Overcome with love for this man who is always so focused and driven, I extend my hand over the console, wanting to ease his hurt in any way I can while still getting us home safely.
He threads his fingers through mine, and I squeeze his hand. With every fiber of my being, I reassure him. “Hayes, you could never disappoint me.”
“The good and the bad, right?” he asks, a muted twinkle appearing in his eye.
I nod, my eyes starting to burn again. “And everything in between.”
TWENTY-NINE
hayes
MONDAY, DECEMBER 23
