Page 56 of Loving Lies (Granton University 3)

But, Jesus, no wonder why he’d been such a great football player. If someone had shoved him on the field, he’d always had to shove back harder.

“Yo, Abbott.” Frenchie snapped his fingers in front of Jonah’s face, making him blink back to the present. “You check out on me, or what? I asked where your girlfriend was today.”

Just hearing that word twisted something inside him. He had no idea how he was going to make it through without her.

Refusing to speak of her, he glanced at his PT. “Do you think I’ll ever walk again?” he asked. “If not, I’d rather not even bother with this. There’s no point.”

Frenchie blinked a few times before he wrinkled his brow as if he considered the question ludicrous. “What’re you talking about, man? Of course you’ll walk again. The only question is how soon. After being in bed this long, due to the coma and all, it’s going to take you longer than it usually would to get back onto your feet. But you’ll get there eventually. Guaranteed.”

The man seemed so certain of his claim that dizziness swamped Jonah. Five seconds ago, he’d convinced himself he didn’t care if he would or wouldn’t be able to walk. He didn’t want to care about anything. Caring only got your heart broken. But learning that this was a certainty rocked his already unsteady world.

He couldn’t quite believe it. After his hopes for everything else had been crushed, why would this one thing actually work out? But maybe…maybe if he could walk out of his hospital one day, he could also find Tess, convince her he wasn’t the awful, awful person she th

ought he was.

“So, there’s no question at all? I’ll be able to walk again?”

Frenchie chuckled and shook his head. “Why would there be a question? You didn’t suffer any spinal problems. I typically have people back on their feet within days of breaking their femur. I know I’m off my game not getting you up and around yet, but trust me, you will walk.”

Mouth falling open, Jonah simply gaped at him. “But the nurse said…” Damn, what exactly had the nurse said?

“Said what?” Frenchie demanded, scowling with irritation. “Did someone tell you you wouldn’t be able to walk again?”

“Well, no. Not in those words, but…” He glanced around for Tess to corroborate his story and remember exactly what the nurse had said before he remembered she was gone. Shit.

Frenchie gave an irritated sigh. “I bet this nurse, whoever she was, implied you might not be capable of walking to intimidate you into not trying it by yourself, probably so you wouldn’t end up hurting yourself.”

Jonah snorted and shook his head. “Figures,” he muttered. That sounded exactly like something one of his nurses would do.

An hour after Frenchie left, Jonah stretched his toes, actually excited about the burning muscles in his legs. As soon as he was on his feet again, it’d only be days before they released him from this place. Days before he could find Tess and straighten this whole mess out.

Feeling slightly human and glad he had street clothes on instead of his hospital gown, he stared down the length of the bed at his toes, wiggling them through his socks. The sheets were tangled uncomfortably under his butt, but he didn’t care. He’d taken ten steps today. Ten unbelievably amazing steps.

He was ten steps closer to getting out of here. Ten steps closer to finding Tess.

“So, I see you’re a superstar,” his least favorite nurse announced as she carried his supper tray into the room and thumped it ungracefully onto the rolling table beside his bed.

Jonah looked up from his toes, still riding the eager train. He thought she was actually going to praise him for his awesome walking skills until he saw her face. Uneasy about the smug smirk she flashed, he asked, “What do you mean?”

Pointing to the muted television on his wall, she snickered. “You made the national news.”

Glancing up, he jerked back in his bed when he saw a photo of his football picture on the screen. “What the hell?” He scrambled for the volume buttons by his bed and turned up the sound just as the CNN reporter announced, “Police revealed the name of the gun owner today. Jonah Abbott, football linebacker and roommate to Anthony Morris, let the sixteen-year-old borrow his semi-automatic weapon—”

“What?” Jonah exploded. “I did not let him…Oh, Jesus.” He brought his hands to his head and turned his beseeching gaze to the leering nurse. “That’s bullshit. They’re lying. I didn’t let him anywhere near my Browning.” And what was up with them calling it a semi-automatic weapon like it was some kind of assault rifle? It had been his freaking deer-hunting gun. Christ.

Looking too evilly gleeful that Jonah’s reputation was being ripped to shreds on national television, the nurse merely turned away and strolled from the room, whistling.

“I’m not even a linebacker,” he called after. “I’m a God damn tight end.”

But she didn’t seem to care. She wanted to believe the worst of him. And she obviously wasn’t the only one. The news report recaptured his attention when they showed a clip of an interview with one of his teammates out on the football field, who actually was a linebacker.

“So, you knew Jonah Abbott?”

Benji Harmon gave a half-assed shrug. “Yeah, sure. I mean, we played ball together. I knew him just as well as anyone else.”

Jonah rolled his eyes and snorted. He couldn’t remember saying one word to this douchebag.

“He was kind of jerk. Thought he was better than the rest of us and kept to himself. And he picked on Einstein more than anyone I know. I heard he was still in the hospital from being shot during the massacre. If you ask me, I think he should’ve been on the fatality list.”

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