Page 14 of Afterglow
I don’t want to let him go when it arrives but am forced to when the paramedic straps Fletcher to a stretcher and loads him into the back.
“Can I go with him?” I ask as they place an oxygen mask on his face.
“If you’d like.”
“Ma’am?” A police officer stands behind me with my dinged-up bike and scraped-up belongings. “Is this yours?”
“Yes.” I collect my things from him before turning back to the ambulance.
“I need to ask you some questions.”
“But I’m going with them to the hospital. Can we do that when we get there?” My voice shakes as I lock the bike to a sturdy signpost nearby and throw my bag over my shoulder. “I’m not leaving him.”
“You know one another?” the policeman asks.
Who in this town doesn’t know Ottawa’s redheaded sweetheart? Landon and Wade are fun and charming, but they’re also very taken.
Fletcher Donovan, on the other hand, is the most beautiful man I’ve ever set eyes on. Millions of single women across Canada would agree.
“He plays for the Regents.”
“Miss, I meant, do you know him personally?”
Honestly, I don’t. But I wish I did. I’d like nothing better than to know Fletcher Donovan.
“Sorta, it’s complicated.” I brush the question off as the paramedic helps me climb into the ambulance and seats me across from Fletcher.
The shock wanes, and my eyes brim with saltwater. As if he can sense it, his eyes roll open to look at me.
Fletcher looks terrified. His hand blooms open weakly. I reach for it.
“I’m so sorry,” I weep, sandwiching his hand between mine. “I’m so,sosorry.”
The corner of his full, ashen lips lifts into a frail smile before his heart monitor beeps wildly and he loses consciousness again.
I hug my arms, rubbing the goosebumps away in this freezing hallway of Ottawa Hospital General.
So much has happened in the past few hours. Fletcher woke up long enough to tell his side and graciously informed the police officer, named Owens, that he didn’t want to file charges.
Yet he doesn’t say a word to me.
Judging by how red his face is, I bet he’s furious. Concussions mean you can’t play. Maybe it doesn’t matter since the Regents are no longer in the playoffs. Still, he’s probably pissed that he won’t be able to do the things he usually does as a professional athlete.
Great job, Behraz. I mentally give myself a slow clap while checking the clock on the wall.
Sitting alone in a room in silence with Fletcher Donovan is insanely awkward. I need to get outta here, but the nurse said the doctor wants to speak to me about something. Not sure what it could be, but?—
There’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Fletcher answers quietly.
“Hi there, I’m Dr. Chhabra.” A balding middle-aged physician enters. “You look terrible.”
Everyone’s a comedian.
Fletcher returns a fake laugh. I recognize it’s fake because I’ve heard his real one on the team’s TikTok account. Usuallyforced out by Wade Boehner, their prankster goalie, or their social media manager trolling his teammates.
She once recorded their reactions to her calling them pookie, and the blush on Fletcher’s face had me fanning myself. I’d simply pass away if I could make him blush like that. And then I’d come back to life to do filthy, unspeakable things to him.
