Page 231 of Pucking Sweet

My phone rings in my pocket, and I scramble for it. It’s Jake. I tap the green button. “What?”

“We have Poppy,” he assures me.

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief, sinking down onto the nearest empty chair. “Oh, thank fucking god. Where?”

“We’re here in the hospital. Third floor. They took her right up to labor and delivery to get her checked out. Her water broke, but she’s got some time.”

I nod, my head sinking as I drop it between my knees, trying to get air.

“We won’t leave her side, man. Claribel’s here too. We have her, okay? You deal with Cole. Any update?”

I lean back, head against the wall as I hold back my tears. “No. Nothing.”

“No news is good news,” he assures me. “It means they’re still working. I’ll text you any updates from here as I get them.”

“Can you put her on the phone?” I need her. I have to hear her voice. She’ll tell me it will all be okay.

“Nah, they’re doing a pelvic exam now. Figured you’d appreciate me stepping out of the room for that one.”

Before I can say another word, a nurse comes through the doors, looking around. She’s the same nurse who first took Cole. Seeing me, she waves me over.

“Oh fuck, I gotta go.” I don’t even wait for Jake’s response before I’m out of my chair and walking over to her.

“You came in with Mr. Morrow, correct?”

“I did,” I reply with a nod.

“He says you’re family?”

Oh god, hesaidsomething. He spoke. I heave a deep breath. “Fuck—Yeah, I’m family. We’re—he’s mine. We’re partners. He’s my best fucking friend, please—”

“Okay,” she assures me. “We have a few minutes while they prep the OR, and he asked if you can come back. Would you like to come this way?”

I nod, following after her in my socked feet.

“This is the ICU, so I’m gonna ask that you put on this protective gear.” She hands me a mess of shoes covers and a paper robe and a mask and gloves, before she’s leading me into exam room three.

Cole is lying there on the bed, shirtless, oxygen mask on, tubes coming out of both arms. Machines are beeping. Nurses monitor everything, adjusting the equipment. He’s still breathing. I can see the cresting of his heart beeping on the machine.

“We only have minutes,” the nurse urges. “Please be quick.”

I nod, moving over to his bedside. I take his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. “Coley?”

He blinks his eyes open, looking up at me. “They can’t—stop—the dysrhythmia,” he says on each exhale. “I’m not—responding—to meds.”

“Okay.” I sink down on the side of his bed, putting his hand in my lap.

“They’re putting in—a pacemaker.”

I nod again. “Well, we thought that might happen eventually. We were ready for it, yeah?”

He holds my gaze, tears in his eyes. “My career. It’s over.”

Tears burn hot and heavy as I give his hand another squeeze. “Hey, you know, that’s okay, bud. You weren’t that good anyway. Really, it’s not much of a loss.”

He just smiles, leaning back against the pillows.

I bend over, kissing his hand. “I fucking love you so much.”

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