Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(80)

Hesitant, I stay rooted in the chair.

She sighs, sending a yearning through me, then, “If you don’t play your ass off, I’m going to have a whole university—not to mention every diehard Bobcat fan—planning my demise.” She wrinkles her cute nose. “I’m not sure my Jag could survive a large-scale condom bombing.”

I stand and, cupping her cheek, my fingers securing the back of her neck, I angle her face to me. Then I lean over and kiss her. Her soft lips yield under my greedy need to feel connected to her, and I savor each caress they gift me. I’m tempted to wrap my arms around her and steal her away, but the feel of her tubes pressing against my stomach has me releasing her. I pull back.

“To be continued,” I say. “And when I get you back, there’s a whole bunch of making up we’re due for.”

Despite her weakened state and the darkened half moons beneath her eyes, there’s still a heat smoldering in her gaze, and that passion claws at my chest. She’s beautiful even when she’s sick. She’s strong even when she thinks she’s not. After we defeat Engleton, I’ll make it my mission to never see her in a hospital bed again.

I glance at my phone. “Hell. There’re only minutes before the start of the game.” Dread creeps through me; Coach is going to put a hurt on me like I’ve never felt.

Ari smiles and points toward the door. “Run.”

My chest swells with pride. As hard as I’ve fought in the past to prove myself to my father, my brother, everyone… There’s only one person I have to prove anything to.

Myself.

Ari—my smart girl—gets that, and she’s demanding that I do it right now.

“I love you,” I tell her, paused at the door.

Her bright smile fills me with confidence. “Go,” she says, laughing.

And I do. I bound right through the door and race out of the hospital with one goal in mind: creaming Engleton. My girl wants me to win the game. Our rivals will never face off against a more determined quarterback.





31





Arian





Vee mutes the hospital room TV. “I’m going for it,” she announces.

“That nurse is going to get you,” I say, accepting the remote from her. “Maybe I can get Markus to sneak us in some popcorn.” My stomach revokes this idea, but I’m trying to keep the mood light, even though I know Vee sees right through my lame attempt.

Regardless, she gives me a sweet smile. “Popcorn won’t cut it. I cannot watch Gavin on that field without anything less than chocolate. That last tackle about killed me.” She frowns, and I offer her my best commiserating sigh.

Mel groans at the both of us. “All right. I’ll make a run for it. I’ve got plenty of experience dodging feisty nurses.” She winks at me before popping out of her chair.

“We should both go,” Vee says, pushing herself up with a stretch. “If one gets caught, the other can go for help.” Mel nods on a shrug at this idea.

As they creep toward the door, preparing to be sneaky, I smile. Soon as they’re gone, I allow my features to relax, smile fading, and adjust the tube connected to my forearm to a more comfortable position.

I tried to convince Vee to go with Ryder, because I know just how badly she wants to be there to root for Gavin, but she refused. She wouldn’t even debate me on it. She and Mel insisted we all watch the championship together.

For the first half of the game, I’ve been casual, as cheerful as possible. Serene, even. For Vee and for Mel. But I’m so exhausted. The overwhelming draw to pull into myself, to shrink away and hide, frays at my nerves. It’s making me agitated, and I can sense the anxiety trying to suck me under.

My secret isn’t a secret any longer.

I love my friends and Ryder, and I just want to be well so they’re not worried—but that pressure in itself is causing me to stress.

And I know, it’s not going to magically get better in a night. In reality, the hero doesn’t swoop in and save the heroine, the story ending on a kiss. Or a group hug. Tah-dah! Everyone’s happy and healthy. The end.

This is real. And it’s going to take real work and patience, and even screwing up along the way, until actual recovery is achieved. That much I learned in rehab, but it’s also just common sense. Mel can validate the process; she’s still battling her own demons. I have the most supportive, nonjudgmental people in my corner, and I need to allow them to be here for me—to help. Only it’s difficult to relinquish that control.

The low dose of anxiety meds that Dr. Brant gave me is helping some to curve my neurotic thoughts. And watching Ryder tear up the field is giving me hope that we’ll get back to normal. Hell, better than normal. But the fear of tomorrow—the realization that I can’t just fake my way through it all—is pounding at the edges. Bleeding into this moment of contentment.

Breathe. I just need to breathe. In and out. In. Out.

I start to count down, needing to center my racing mind, and hear the door squeak open. Pulling myself together, I get ready to watch the second half of the game with Mel and Vee. But when I look over, managing a smile, my features go lax.

My father stands at the door, one hand tucked into the pocket of his gray suit. “Is it all right if I visit?”

The fact that he’s asking my permission—for anything—makes me blink. Shocked, I nod him inside, worried my voice will give away my unease.