I want a sassy bitch
THE MOMENT SHANE WALKS INTO MY HOSPITAL ROOM, HE STARTS TO cry.
“Don’t,” I beg from the bed. “Please. You’ll make me cry too, and my nose is too congested right now. I want to be able to breathe.”
But there’s no stopping him. His broad shoulders shake from his tears. I can’t even imagine how traumatic this must be for him—the last time he was in a hospital, he was clutching his father’s hand, literally watching him die. His shell-shocked expression as he stumbles toward me confirms my suspicion that he’s in the midst of a flashback.
“It’s worse than it looks,” I say wryly.
He doesn’t answer. Just blinks back his tears as his frantic gaze runs up and down my body. I know what he’s seeing. The bandage on my head, the split lip, swollen nose. It’s not broken, thank God, but it still hurts like a bitch.
The real damage, unfortunately, is internal. My kidney took a good beating. The doctor is worried about internal bleeding, so she’s keeping me here for observation for a few days. She warned me I have some bloody urine to look forward to.
Shane collapses in the chair that my dad was recently occupying. Dad went to collect Shane from the lobby when he called to say he was downstairs, and I suspect he’s in the waiting room now, giving us some privacy.
Uncertainty looms in Shane’s eyes as his hand finds mine. He’s shaking. “What happened?”
Shane’s expression starts off angry, as I describe how Percy kicked the door in, and ends homicidal when I describe myself curled up on the floor while he stomped on me.
As I relate the evening’s events, it’s difficult to control the sick feeling in my stomach and the weak, fluttery sensations that keep trembling through me. The doctor gave me something for the anxiety, but I know a pill or two isn’t going to fix what’s wrong. As embarrassing as it felt to admit weakness, I remembered what my dad had told me about asking for help, and so I asked my doctor if she could arrange for a counselor to come see me. I’ve had anxiety attacks since the summer. I can’t ignore them anymore. It’s time to face them head-on, no matter how scary that might be.
The gravity of the situation keeps slicing into me out of nowhere. How close I came to being severely injured. Maybe even dead. If Niall hadn’t called the cops the moment I screamed his name, if they hadn’t shown up within seven minutes of the call, who knows what would’ve happened? As it is, I can’t recall anything after that final kick. I just remember waking up in the ambulance, my head spinning.
“Oh, I also have a mild concussion,” I tell Shane. “So don’t turn on the big light.” We’re using the bedside lamp in the room, which offers an inoffensive pale glow that only slightly irritates my eyes.
He reaches up and touches the bandage on my temple. “What happened here?”
“I was lying in the front hall when he tried to leave. Bottom of the door clipped me and cut my head. Five stitches,” I say with resignation. “I feel bad for my dad, though, because he has to go back there tonight and clean up all the blood. Did you know head wounds bleed like a bitch?”
“Don’t make jokes. Please.” His eyes are wet again.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I grip his hand. “I’m fine.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. I should’ve been there.”
I squeeze his hand tighter. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known he’d show up tonight.”
“I should’ve protected you.”
“Stop it. You can’t blame yourself.” I adjust my position and wince when pain throbs in my side. Stupid kidney. “I don’t want you feeling guilty.”
He clasps my hand in both of his. When he speaks, it’s through a fuck-ton of gravel. “Seeing you like this…it’s killing me.”
“I’m going to be okay. I promise. Might have to see a therapist for a while to help me sort through everything, but physically I’m going to bounce back soon. You’ll see.”
He leans in and places a tender kiss on my forehead. “I love you. I’m never leaving your side again. I hope you realize that.”
That summons a smile. “I’m cool with it.”
“Will the nurses throw me out if I get in bed with you?”
“I’ll yell at them if they try. But come lie on this side. My left side is totally out of commission.”
Shane stands up to remove his coat and kick off his shoes. Then he gingerly gets on the narrow bed. He’s six one and stupidly muscular, so it’s a tight fit, but he manages to settle beside me, propped up on one elbow while his hand gently strokes my hair.
“I’m coming back to Briar,” he says. “Back to Meadow Hill.”
“Don’t you dare come back because of me. I’ll be fine.”
“Nah, not just because of you. My mom kicked me out.”
I gasp, then instantly regret it when my side clenches in pain.
“For my own good,” Shane adds. He presses his lips to my non-bandaged temple, and I feel him smiling. “She reminded me where I belong.”
“In the rink,” I confirm.
“And with you.”
His hand drifts down my arm. I feel his fingers shaking. “I know it seems like I’m handling this really well on the outside—”
“Does it?” I say dryly.
“But I’m terrified right now. The fact that you’re in the hospital is ripping me apart. Every time I think about him kicking in the door and hurting you…” Shane makes a strangled noise. “Don’t let me leave this hospital tonight, Dixon.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
“You won’t.”
We fall silent for a moment. I’m not hooked up to any machines, so the room is quiet. When Shane speaks again, his voice is trembling.
“You have no idea how much I love you. It’s almost pathetic.”
I can’t help but laugh. This time the twinge of pain is worth it.
“Never saw it coming, Dixon. But you’re everything to me. I don’t know when it happened, but it’s true. You’re the heartbeat of my days. You’re the reason I look forward to tomorrow. I honestly never thought I’d find someone who understands me so completely.”
Oh my God. I can’t believe these sappy words are leaving Shane Lindley’s mouth. I’d tease him about it if he wasn’t so damn earnest. Besides, I know exactly what he’s saying. I feel the same way. I am unapologetically myself when I’m with him. Weirdness and all.
“Being away from you this last month was torture. I fucking left you and look what happened. He could have killed you.”
“I’m all right,” I say firmly.
“I wasn’t joking before. I’m never leaving you again.”
“You’ll have to eventually,” I tease. “What about when you’re traveling with the Blackhawks on away games and I’m at home with the two children you expect me to pop out next year?”
He chuckles, his breath tickling my chin. “Yeah, about that… I may have changed my mind.”
I’m startled. “You don’t want marriage and kids anymore?”
“No, I do.” He absently strokes my arm.
I wish I didn’t have to wear this hospital gown. I asked my dad to grab me a cardigan or two when he goes back to my apartment tonight. But right now, I guess I don’t mind it. My short sleeves let me enjoy the soft scrape of Shane’s fingertips on my flesh.
“I definitely still want it,” he continues. “But the kid thing… I think you’re onto something with your waiting-until-your-thirties plan. Taking care of Maryanne when she was here and then being home with her this whole month…” He sighs. “It’s a lot of work.”
“No kidding.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
“You could always find yourself a sweet little wife who will be fine doing it all herself.”
“I don’t want a sweet little wife.” He kisses my shoulder. “I want a sassy bitch.”
I snicker. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
A sense of contentment settles over me, which is ironic considering I experienced a beating at the hands of my ex-boyfriend tonight. I shouldn’t be feeling content right now.
“Remember when you asked me if I would ever make sacrifices?” I say pensively. “If I could be the kind of partner who took on a larger load while you were in the NHL?” I purse my lips. “I think I could.”
“Yeah?” he says thickly.
“I would make those sacrifices for you. Because you’re everything to me too.”
“Jesus, Dixon, you’re so sappy. Have some more self-respect.”
I snort against his shoulder.
“Anyway, congratulations,” he says.
“For what?”
“I’m leaving you in charge of deciding when you birth our children.”
My burst of laughter makes my side throb again. “Damn it, Lindley. Stop making me laugh.” I snuggle closer to him. “But thank you. I appreciate you allowing me a say in our future.”
“I like that.”
“What?”
“Our future.” He rests his cheek against the top of my head. “Do you mean that? You see a future for us?”
I reach for his hand and slowly lace our fingers. “Yes. I mean it.”
I have no idea what that future will hold, but I do know one thing—when it comes to me and Shane, there’s no doubt in my mind that the journey will be fun.
