Page 123 of Gunner

Ben shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to mask his pain. “Logan, I’ve been better, but I’ll manage.”

The doctor gave me a nod, and I shuffled out of the way but wasn’t budging until I heard what the doctor had to say. Maybe Ben didn’t completely hate my guts, because he didn’t ask me to leave. He made no effort to introduce me to the doctor, though they were on a first name basis.

Logan began his examination, methodically checking Ben’s vitals and inspecting the wound. He worked with calm efficiency, occasionally asking Ben about his pain levels and any discomfort he might be experiencing.

After a few minutes, the doctor straightened, removing his gloves. “Your vitals are stable, and the wound is healing nicely. You’re lucky the blade missed any major organs. However, I’m only comfortable releasing you on one condition.”

Ben’s expression tensed. “And what’s that?”

“You need someone to assist you at home. No heavy lifting, minimal physical strain. It’s crucial for your recovery. The last thing we want is for you to rip open the stitches.”

Before Ben could respond, I stepped forward. “I’ll make sure he takes it easy, Doc.”

“Wait a minute,” Ben said. “Don’t listen to him. He has no say in this.”

“Do you want to get out of here or not?” I asked.

The doctor raised his eyebrows, waiting for the answer just as much as I was. Ben scowled. “Fine.”

“All right, then,” Logan said. “I can go ahead and process your discharge.”

Satisfied, the doctor made notes on his clipboard. Seizing the opportunity, I asked, “Doc, is there anything he should avoid specifically? And what signs should I look for in case there’s a problem?”

Logan looked up, nodding as though in approval of my questions. “Avoid any activity that strains the abdominal muscles. No lifting anything heavier than a small book. Watch for signs of infection around the wound, excessive pain, or fever. And make sure he keeps the wound clean and dry. I’ll prescribe some painkillers and antibiotics. He needs to take them as directed, and the bandage should be changed at least once per day.”

“And what about his diet or sleep? Anything special he should be doing?”

“Plenty of fluids. Sleep might be uncomfortable for a few days, but he needs the rest. Use extra pillows to prop him up if needed. And most importantly, he should avoid any stressful situations. Stress can hinder healing.”

“Understood,” I said. “Don’t worry, Doc. I’ll make sure he follows all your instructions.” Ben was scowling at me.

Logan handed me a sheet of discharge instructions. “Take good care of him. We’ll schedule a follow-up appointment in a week. Call me if there are any concerns before then.”

With that, the doctor wished us good luck and left me alone with Ben. His face was so red he looked about ready to blow.

“Thanks for your help.” He scooted to the edge of the bed. “But I can take it from here.”

“You think I’m going to let you go home alone?”

“Gunner, I don’t want to fight with you. My side hurts like a bitch, and all I want is to hug Zeus.”

He looked exhausted, his face pale and his features pinched. “Then don’t argue. I’m not trying to get myself back into your bed. Not yet anyway, so relax. I just want to take care of you.”

Ben sighed. “I’m too tired to argue with you. Hand me my pants.”

I gave him his clothes, but he struggled to get his legs in, so I took them from him. “Here, let me help.”

“Thanks,” he grunted.

Getting him into the jeans wasn’t so bad, but raising his arms to put his shirt on left him panting and leaning on me. He closed his eyes, his chin on my shoulder.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he groaned.

“I know.” Yet I couldn’t resist burying my face into his hair and inhaling him. He smelled too much like hospital. “Let’s get you home.”

32

BEN

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