Page 28 of Riding Jamie

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

We’re both still whispering, probably quieter than we need to be, but the air around us seems so fragile that I’m almost scared to move.

“Had to come check on you, didn’t I?” I joke weakly. “You’re not allowed to get hurt if I can’t play nurse.”

His chuckle comes out breathy and tired as he shifts up, and I hear the edge of a pained wheeze on his breath. The blankets slip down his chest, and as much as I know I probably shouldn’t stare, I can’t tear my eyes away.

The normally tanned skin of his chest and left shoulder is marred with expansive bruises, shades of purple and red and sickly green melding into the stark blank ink of the tattoos that litter his torso. His arm is set in a cast up to his elbow, and I feel my eyes start to well up with tears when I see the familiar green wrapping. He’d gotten the same color when he broke his wrist in high school, had picked it because it was the color of the dress I was wearing that day. I reach out to trace my fingers over the cast, biting back a sob.

He’s just as gorgeous as I remember, although his hair is a little longer than I’m used to, and his stubble is getting closer to the territory of a proper beard. It’s the pain in those stunning blue eyes that I’m not used to, the obvious worry just beneath the surface.

He’s never looked so fragile before.

“How are you holding up?” I ask, ignoring the way my voice wobbles.

He glances down at his chest and shrugs, then immediately winces as the movement pulls at his injured collarbone.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he says.

I let out a wet laugh and wipe at the tears on my cheeks before reaching out. I intend to swat at his head in a playful reprimand, but I wind up just twining my fingers into his hair. It’s a little greasy, but I’m sure washing it isn’t easy right now. If things were different, I’d be helping him to the bathroom and leaning him over the tub so I could scrub shampoo into his scalp. The thought makes something sharp and sad twinge in my chest.

“Don’t play tough with me, Jamie,” I scold, and I can feel all the playful teasing drain from me, replaced by the gut-deep worry that’s been eating at me since Maggie dropped the bomb about his injury.

“I’m ok,” he promises, but he winces when he lifts his good hand up to cup mine where it’s still tangled in his hair.

I tug softly at the strands as tears cloud my vision again, and I don’t bother to hide them. Every ounce of fear and guilt that’s been welling up comes to the surface, and I barely manage to stop myself from wailing pitifully. I look down at him, shaking my head.

“You could have died,” I rasp out, my words harsh and desperate.

“Hey, hey, hush, it’s ok,” he soothes, squeezing his fingers around mine. “I’m a professional, it comes with the territory. But look at me, yeah? I’m alright. It’s fine.”

I pull my hand back and wipe furiously at the tears streaming down my cheeks.

“It’s not fine, Jamie!” I cry, quieting my voice immediately after. “You get thrown by Code Blue, and you expect me to believe you’refine? Do you have any idea how worried I was when Maggie told me?”

The look on his face shifts from soothing to something more contemplative, like he hasn’t considered that I’ve been worried, and part of me wants to smack him for it. When he speaks, it sounds almost like he’s in awe of the very concept.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice trembling. “I’ll be careful.”

I nod, still wiping at my cheeks.

“You better,” I tell him.

The quiet that falls between us is broken only by my sniffling. We both just stare at each other for a long moment, neither of us quite sure what to do now. I don’t feel like I can walk away from him any more than I did when I got here, and I open my mouth, not sure what I’m going to say, but knowing that I need to talk. I can’t just freeze this time.

“Bo told me you came to New York,” I say, almost surprised at myself for picking that as the first thing to bring up.

Jamie shifts on the bed, gritting his teeth as he shifts his eyes away from me to glare at the wall in front of him. I feel the loss like it’s a physical touch.

“Why didn’t you come see me?”

My voice is weak and pained, and I flinch a bit when Jamie looks at me again. The soft joy that had been on his face is all but gone, a mask of indifference just barely covering the hurt etched into the lines of his face.

“I did,” he says bluntly. “All I got to see was you kissing some blond guy outside of your apartment. It was pretty obvious I wasn’t welcome so I went back to the circuit.”

My heart drops immediately, and the sour taste of panic rushes back into my mouth. I feel guilty enough about what happened with Shane. I can’t let it ruin this, too.

I won’t.

---