Page 54 of The Quarterback
“Did you push yourself, Colton? There’s some irritation where there wasn’t any before.” The doctor laid his hand over Colton’s shoulder and slid it across his collarbone, then down to his shoulder blade. “Definite swelling throughout the joint.”
Nick swallowed. Damn it, why hadn’t he stopped Colton last night? Why hadn’t he been more aware? Had Colton thought he needed to take the sling off to please Nick?
“I, uh, accidentally slept with it off. I think it moved around.”
“Colton.” The doctor shook his head and sighed. “Keep your slingonat night. At least for the next week, for sure.”
“What about during the day? And can I move forward with physical therapy?”
The doctor’s hands kept moving over the joint, poking and prodding and moving Colton’s shoulder this way and that. Lifting laterally, slowly, then lifting forward. He asked Colton to describe his pain levels with each movement, asked him if there was any catching, any locking. Colton gritted his teeth, but he told the doctor the pain wasn’t unbearable.
“All right,” the doctor said, “I will release you to the third phase of physical therapy, though you’ll start slowly. Very,veryslowly. Stretching. Gentle movements. I don’t want you lifting anything heavier than a coffee cup for now.”
“What about a football?”
“Underhand tossing only for right now.”
“I’ll take it.” A tiny smile brightened Colton’s face. “I’ll take anything that gets my hands back on the ball. What about working out? Can I go back to the gym?”
The most Colton had been allowed to do was walk, which they’d done down by Lady Bird Lake as often as they could.
“Light workouts,” the doctor said. “Nothing weight-bearing on your shoulder. Nothing that will overly strain it, either. Don’t go throwing yourself into squats and leg presses and heave with your back and shoulders this week. That won’t help you.”
“I got it. I think I’ve been pretty good so far, Doc. I want to heal right. I want to get back out there.”
Nick’s smile froze as Colton’s words hit him. They were the same things he’d been saying for months, and Nick had always wanted the same thing for him: full healing, Colton back on the field throwing touchdown passes and winning games. Colton back on the path of superstardom. On his way to the NFL.
He hadn’t beenwithColton before, though. He hadn’t had to think forward, imagine Colton playing football and him… what? In the stands, leaning over the railing for a pregame kiss like Justin and Wes? Him, a man twice Colton’s age? Colton surely wouldn’t want Nick there like that. Wouldn’t want the world’s prying eyes on their…
He still didn’t know what to call it. What was this between them? They were all over the place. Living together like they were married and then sharing first, terrified kisses. First blow jobs and hand jobs and whispering that they were going to figure things out.
Before they’d kissed, he could admit that Colton Hall, age twenty-two, was his best friend. After the kiss? Best friend wasn’t enough. Lover was too… well, they were more than just lovers. Colton was more than a hookup.
But whatwerethey? And what where they going to become? What were they going to figure out?
And what combination of events would lead Colton to be the number one college quarterback in the nation while he went home to Nick Swanscott, age forty-three, every night?
And after college?
Professional NFL quarterbacks didn’t have older men as their… best friends. Lovers.
Day by day. Hold on to each of them, because eventually Colton would begin to drift away from him. He could see it like he could see the trajectory of a pass when the football launched out of Colton’s hand.
Enjoy yourself. When was the last time you were desired like this? When was the last time someone dreamed about you? Maybe it does have an expiration date, but you can cherish it while it lasts.
Something rustled inside him, heavy and empty, like huge wind chimes moving on a dusty wind. His thoughts were discordant, off-key. They didn’t sit right inside him, ran against the grain of things he couldn’t change deep within him.
He’d never had a fling. Before Cynthia, there was his high school girlfriend, the foolish passion of a young teenager who thought the first girl he ever kissed would be the woman he spent forever with. Then he was married. He’d never cheated. Not once. And then… he wasn’t married.
The world liked to tell men of his age, after they got divorced, to let loose. Have a fling or twenty. Embrace single life. Embrace younger women—or men—who found them attractive. Go for it.
He’d always called that kind of behavior amidlife crisis.
Well, what was he doing now? Hadn’t Justin said that, when all he knew was that Nick and Colton went to a winery together?One dayof his and Colton’s summer.
“Take care of yourself, Colton,” the doctor said. Nick’s attention ground back to the appointment. Colton jumped off the exam table, his arm free from the sling and loose in front of him. He lifted it slowly, like the doctor had done.
Beamed at Nick.
