Page 41 of Refusing Kendall

My stomach jumps into my chest. “Please,” I beg, “I just need to know how he’s doing?”

He opens his mouth to surely tell me to get lost or to call for security, but a shout from inside stops him cold.

“FUCKING LET HER IN,” Goose’s voice echoes around us.

I don’t even give him the satisfied smile that I’d like to, my main concern is getting to Goose. Tears fill my eyes as I get my first look at him. He’s still caked almost head to toe in mud, but that’s not what does me in. It’s the devastation and pain on his face as the people are busy around him, constantly in motion. He reaches out a hand to me, and I don’t hesitate. One of the staff huffs at me, so I move to the top of his head where I’m not in the way. The ass that tried to block my entrance to the room glares at me from the doorway, and I have to bite my lip to keep from smirking at him.Fuck you asshole. The 80’s called, and they want their mustache back.

Goose attempts a smile up at me, “I can almost guess what’s going through your head right now.Littering and…”

His reference to the Super Troopers movie where they have the same mustache makes us both laugh, although his quickly turns into a groan. I glance down to where there are bodies hovering over his leg and instantly wish that I didn’t. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure his knee is broken at the very least. That’ll mean the end of the season for him and maybe next season too.

I bring my lips down to his forehead, “I love you, Grant Michaels.”

He murmurs back to me, but it gets lost in the mayhem that ensues. There’s talk of an ambulance, hospital and surgery. I try to keep up, but there’s just too much going on in the room. All I know is that when they get ready to move the stretcher, he clings to my hand like it’s his only lifeline, and there’s no way I’m letting go. The only time I do is when they load him in the back of the ambulance that’s waiting outside for us.

“Will you be riding with us or following?” the attending EMT asks. When I tell him it’s the former, he gives me a hand up into the seat beside the stretcher. Goose rides the whole way with his eyes closed, answering all of the questions patiently for the EMT. Me, I can’t seem to look anywhere but him. I don’t like hospitals, and I’m nervous as fuck for him to go into surgery. I just hope that the others can get here before he goes back.

Turns out that luck isn’t on my side today, but it does work in Goose’s favor. It feels as though he’s made a number one priority as soon as we’re through the hospital doors. I give him a quick kiss and let his hand go. His smile is disheartening, but the doctor promises that he’s in good hands. The waiting room that I’m shown to is completely empty. Making matters worse, the television is tuned into the game. Seeing Lucas, Teagan, and Maverick still hustling their asses off makes me feel a little better. Then they start switching back and forth between the game and discussing available updates on Goose. I can’t sit still and have to start pacing when they show replays of him being carted off the field. An old habit of biting my nails even resurfaces.

The game finally ends, and they move onto the next one, but still take time right before commercials to mention Goose and questioning his status. I’m still pacing off the wax on their tile floor when my other three guys come rushing through the door. Lucas is the first to wrap me up in his arms. I feel two other sets of hands and lips all over, but it’s more comfort than sensual this time.

“Any word yet?” Maverick asks quietly.

I find his eyes. The worry and pain there brings tears to mine. Letting go of Lucas, I quickly move to him. There’s no hesitation as his arms go around me. He breathes a quiet sigh into my hair. It could have easily been any of them in Goose’s position, and we all know it.

The three of them take a seat in front of my pacing spot, which doesn’t slow down, even with them here. It actually doesn’t stop until Teagan reaches up to take my hand. He pulls me down into the seat between him and Lucas. It’s then I notice that our little waiting room is a lot louder and more crowded than it was earlier. At least three quarters of the team arrived at some point, and I’ve been so lost in my head that I didn’t even notice. They’ve all shown up here for Goose, to be with their brother. I have to rub at my eyes to keep from crying again. When Lucas takes my hand to keep me from biting at my thumbnail that I’ve already gnawed down to nothing, my leg starts to bounce. I feel like I’ve had five energy drinks and can’t sit still.

I’m just about to go try to get an update when the doctor I spoke to earlier walks in the room. His face is blank as he strides in the room, showing no reaction at the number of people in here now. We’re all so crowded in this room that there are bodies everywhere. Most are siting on the floor against walls. He bypasses the coaches that stand up with me when we notice his arrival, coming directly to me to deliver the news.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name earlier,” he apologizes.

“Kendall Davis,” I rush out.

He nods, “Ms. Davis.”

“You should be talking to us and not her,” mustached dickhead tells him.

The doctor’s eyes widen, and Lucas opens his mouth to respond, but Teagan beats him to the punch, “Actually, dick, he should be talking to the four of us, so don’t be rude.”

The guy’s face turns an ugly shade of red, but he shuts the fuck up, letting the doctor speak, “Mr. Michaels’ surgery went as well as could be expected. He’s in recovery right now, but we’ll be switching him over to a room soon. He can have visitors just as soon as we do.”

“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely just as mustache opens his mouth again, “What’s the diagnosis, doc? Will he be able to take the field again?”

I want to punch him right in his stupid face, and by the murderous look on T’s face, I’d say he does as well. I step in front of him slightly to make sure that he doesn’t do anything he may later regret.

I have to refrain myself from hugging the doctor as he tells us, “That’s not information I can share with you at this moment. Mr. Michaels and I will go over his recovery options. He can then choose if and when to answer any of your questions.” As much as I want to hug him for giving mustache a huge fuck you, his words make my chest ache. Just knowing that there’s a possibility that Goose could lose something that makes him happy and means so much to him makes me want to cry like a baby again.

“Will someone come let us know when we can see him?” I ask him.

He smiles and gives me a nod before leaving us in the middle of this mess we’ve found ourselves in. Thankfully, after hearing that Goose is okay, most of the people in the waiting room clear out, not even bothering to go in and speak to him. Dickstache takes his leave with them, and I’m tempted to tell him not to let the door hit him in the ass on the way out.

There’s only about twenty or so of their teammates that stick around. I know for a fact that it doesn’t slip the guys’ notice. Half an hour later, when a nurse comes in to let us know that Goose can have visitors now, she doesn’t even argue about letting the four of us in together. She simply tells us that he’s groggy and not to overwhelm him.

My first look at him laying in the bed steals my breath away. A quick flashback of Gramps last year in the same position almost has me turning on my heel and running the other way. Goose’s eyes cracking open and him searching until he finds me are the only things that stop me.

A drug induced smile crosses his face, and that’s all it takes for me to hurry to his side. When he reaches for me, I take his hand and press a kiss against the top of his forehead. His eyes close as I move back.

I assume he’s fallen back asleep until his lips move, “Did we win?”

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