Page 42 of Mountain Challenge

“I’m Ry’s housemate,” Hugo said, when his turn came. “Alex used to live with us as well, but he dumped us when he met Yvette,” he ribbed. “Broke the lease so quickly our heads are still spinning.”

Alex laughed. It seemed like he’d heard this before. “I apologized, okay?”

“You’re all like children,” Beau said, sighing. “I should know. I have one at home.”

“Beau’s speaking of his fourteen-year-old daughter, Ren,” Tristan clarified. “And she’s the most mature fourteen-year-old you’ll ever meet. Takes after Val.”

“You’re the team’s pilot.” It felt good to put faces to names. “I feel like I already know you all a bit,” she said, then quickly went on to clarify. “Because Ry talks about you all the time, I mean.”

At her words, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate. “We’ve heard a lot about you as well. Ry’s told us what a great artist you are?—“

“You’re an artist?” Yvette asked.

Isla blushed over her blush. “I’m a tattooist,” she said, before Yvette hired her to paint a portrait of the mayor. That had happened to her before.

“That’s so cool. Tell me more about it.” Isla knew the woman was trying to distract her—to keep her from worrying about Ry—but her interest seemed genuine, and she didn’t seem like the kind of person to fake interest in anything, so Isla started speaking, all the while keeping an eye on the door. Was Ry okay? What was taking so long?

Eventually, the door opened, and a beautiful woman in a white doctor’s coat came through. Her hair was the brightest red Isla had ever seen. If she hadn’t been so worried, Isla would have asked her where she got the color done. Her own blue streaks were starting to fade, which meant it was time to get it touched up.

“Val,” a chorus of voices said. Everyone except for Beau, who stood very still, his hands clenched into fists.

“How’s he doing, Valentina?” Was his voice trembling? What was that about?

Valentina reached over to hug him, and even though he towered over the woman, it was clear she was trying to infuse him with strength. “Dr. Barrett’s one of our best trauma surgeons. He’ll be out to talk to you soon, but the surgery went well. Ry’s waking up now.”

“Can we see him?” Alex asked.

“I can bring one or two of you in to see him, but not all of you,” she said firmly.

Isla took a step back, ready to fade into the background, but Alex was quicker. “Beau and Isla will go.”

Isla shook her head forcefully. “Ah, no. Ry and I … we’re not … I should …” All eyes turned to her. She was really botching this up, making this about her when it should be about Ry and what would make him feel safest.

The word gave her pause. She’d messed things up the last time they’d been together—messed things up badly, and hadn’t even bothered to explain. But she wanted Ry to feel safe—to wake up and know that all these people cared about him. Hell, thatshecared about him.

“One of you should go,” she said weakly, looking at Alex for support, since he seemed the most approachable.

Alex laughed, his arm around Yvette. “Believe me, he’ll be a lot more interested in seeing you, than in seeing any of us.”

“Come on,” Beau said, taking Isla gently by the arm and effectively making the decision for her.

Okay, then. She’d just have to tell Ry about all these people who were out here waiting to see him.

20

Ry

There was no confusion in his mind when he woke up, no instant where he didn’t know where he was. Also, no pain whatsoever, which meant they must be pumping him full of something.

For a few minutes, he watched the liquid dripping slowly into the IV line in his arm. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just taking the pain away; it was also making him feel incredibly mellow. Eventually, though, impatience set in. He knew he’d had surgery—Val had been there to say hello and introduce him to the trauma surgeon and the anesthesiologist, just before they’d played thecount back from tengame with him.

He waited for someone—anyone—to step into the room. He wanted to know how Terence, with the broken hips and balls of steel, was doing. He wanted to know how his surgery had gone. As a more immediate concern, he wanted to know when he’d be able to go home. He wasn’t spending the night in a hospital. Nofucking way. And he needed his phone. He had to call Isla and explain … he vaguely recalled asking Alex to call her, but the whole helicopter ride—was fuzzy in his mind.

He shifted impatiently in bed, stiffening at the pain coming from his shoulder. The meds didn’t seem to be working as well as they had just a few minutes earlier. He debated pressing the button to get one of the nurses in here, but that felt like a shitty thing to do. That button was red for a reason, and him not feeling mellow any longer was probably not an emergency.

A sudden noise had him looking towards the door. Ry perked up, tracking the opening door like an eager puppy. When he saw Beau and Isla appear, he was this close to letting out a happy woof.

“You’ve met,” he said, unnecessarily, as Beau closed the door. Of course they’d met. They hadn’t just bumped into each other in the corridor. He hadn’t expected either of them to be here. Beau should have been home by now, with Val and Ren, and Isla—whywasIsla here? Had Alex made it sound like Ry was dying, or something?

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