Page 24 of Possession

Tim sort of whimpers and sinks into Kevan, who leans his head to the side and pukes, most of it splashing on Olive.

“God damn it, Kevan. What the fuck, man?” I want to jump in and be useful and clean up this disgusting mess, but Olive doesn’t seem to mind.

“Shhh,” she whispers. She starts lowering Tim back down to the floor. Kevan adjusts his posture so that Tim can rest his head in Kevan’s lap, and Kev starts stroking Tim’s hair.Definitely a thing together,I think.

I hear a commotion behind me, and turn around to see that a crowd of people from the banquet room has spilled into the hall to see what’s going on.

A bunch of dudes start jostling their way to the front, yelling that they are doctors and some bullshit. “Olive took care of it,” I say, as I see the paramedics coming in the sliding doors in the lobby.

The EMTs start asking questions, the doctors start pointing and yelling, and everyone is talking at once, until Olive stands up and cups her hands over her mouth. She shouts, “The patient had an anterior shoulder dislocation. I assisted him with self reduction using the Boss-Holzach Matter technique.”

Everyone is kind of quiet, then, and I’m all smiles. “Like a boss, Olive.” I nudge Kevan with my foot. “Get it? Boss technique?”

Kevan wipes his mouth with his sleeve and works his way to a standing position while the EMTs get Tim on a gurney. “This is the worst date I’ve ever had,” I tell him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. He shakes his head.

“Now is not the time, Morgan.”

“You riding in the ambulance with your boy or should Olive go with him?”

Kevan looks horrified by my words. “Of course I’m fucking going with him.” I nod and drape my suit jacket around Olive, who is still sort of dripping with Kev’s puke.

“Ok, we’ll meet you there, all right?” Kevan jogs off after the gurney and I can’t stop grinning at Olive. I don’t even care that Coach is trying to hustle all the big wigs back into the banquet. Nothing exists for me right now except her. I can’t even believe how amazing she is, and I really can’t believe I haven’t been telling her so.

“Olive,” I say, dropping a kiss on top of her head. God damn, her hair smells good today. Everything about her looks amazing and so damn sexy. But she also rocked that crisis like a goddess. “Baby, you were incredible just now. Do you fucking know how incredible that was?”

She smiles and her eyes are sparkling, almost like she’s not covered in quarterback puke. “Thank you, Bax. Can you take me to the hospital? I really want to check on him. Make sure I didn’t damage anything…”

“I will absolutely drive you there so everyone can thank you and reiterate that you did everything textbook perfect.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Olive

I AM ABSOLUTELY exhausted when I sink into the passenger seat of Baxter’s truck. God, I stink. I’m covered in Kevan’s vomit, but I’m not really wearing enough clothing that I could take off any one layer and still look decent in public. “Do you have anything in your truck,” I ask Baxter. But he only has some old practice towels lying on the jump seat.

He’s parking at the emergency room entrance by the time I mop up what I can with the towels. It’s going to have to be good enough, I decide, slipping out of Tia’s blazer and into Bax’s huge jacket. I don’t miss his eyes lingering on my chest in the lacy camisole, but there’s no time for me to stop and wonder what it might mean that Baxter Morgan is finally paying attention to my body.

I quickly walk up to the front desk, making note that the hospital floors are a bit slick under my heels. The security guard looks up from his newspaper. “May I help you?”

“Yes, hi. I realize I look a mess. I’m looking for Tim Peterson. He came in via ambulance a few minutes ago…I’m his athletic trainer and I was hoping—”

The guard points a thumb down the hall. “He’s in room 106,” he says. He eyes Baxter curiously, but I grab his hand. “You two can head on back.”

When Bax and I get down the hall to Tim’s room, he seems to be asleep on the bed. Kevan sits beside him on a folding chair, holding Tim’s hand and kissing Tim’s knuckles. Kev looks up when we walk in and seems relieved.

Springing up from the chair, Kevan pulls me and Baxter both into a big hug. “Guys, I’m so fucking sorry,” he says. “Jesus, this is exactly the kind of shit I try to avoid.Thisis why I don’t date guys who are in the closet.” Kevan starts pulling at his hair and then sinks back into the chair, picking Tim’s hand back up.

Tim has one arm in a sling against his chest to keep the joint stable. He must have gotten some good pain meds if he can sleep right now, because I know this injury is quite painful. I pat Kevan’s back, trying to reassure him, but Baxter isn’t one to offer soft words.

“Kevan, you have about five minutes to tell me what the fuck is going on with this whole fucking day before the paparazzi gets here,” he says, gesturing down the hall. “The guard definitely knows who I am and the staffprobablyknows who you are, so spill it before we’re on the top of everyone’s Instagram.”

“Tim’s story breaks my heart,” I tell Baxter, reaching for one of his fries in the cafeteria. We spent the past hour listening to Kevan explain how he and Tim grew up together, were friends all through high school. “Pence, Peterson,” Kevan said. “We were always together. Always.” Kevan has been out since elementary school, but Tim only admitted his feelings for Kevan senior year, after a drunken prom night.

Tim is absolutely terrified of losing his family, of losing their support, of what they’d say if they found out his true feelings for the boy next door. And so Tim and Kevan spent the summer before college hiding their relationship.

Baxter frowns into his fries and says, “Kevan said it was a relief when they went off to different schools. I don’t get that at all.” He takes my hand. “I could never be happy at a different school from my best friend.”

I shrug. “Yeah, but Kevan was probably exhausted from having to hide. At his other school, it sounds like he could date whoever he wanted and just be open about it.”

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