Page 46 of Want You

NATHAN

“This bruise is taking its sweet time healing,” the physiotherapist, Shannon, said while Nathan was lying face down on a table in the therapy room after practice.

“I barely feel it,” he lied. He felt it, he was just good at hiding pain. After a lifetime of various injuries, he’d learned how to push through. Every professional hockey player could. Half the guys were on a cocktail of pills they couldn’t even remember the names of at this point.

“I’m going to do a quick ultrasound just to make sure there’s nothing more going on.”

Nathan turned onto his side and gestured at the bruise. “Knock yourself out.”

“Hey, Berty,” the head athletic therapist greeted him. “How’s Scottie doing?”

“Physically, he’s coming on really well. Mentally, it depends on the day.” He hissed as the cold gel hit his skin. “He’s moving in soon, so I’ll have a better idea when I see him more.”

“Well let me know if he wants someone to come play Call of Duty.”

“He’s been playing it at rehab. Had me bring a Ghost mask last week, apparently he wanted to show some kid who he’s been playing against.”

“I bet it’s an authentic one too, right?”

Nathan only offered a shrug because he wouldn’t know. Knowing Scottie, probably.

“Well, we’re staying home over the break so let me know if you need someone else to distract him. I’m happy to volunteer.”

“Will do.” Nathan nodded as the therapist grabbed a box of wraps and left the room.

“Breathe in and hold,” Shannon instructed, moving the wand along the bruise which made it hard for Nathan to keep his breath held.

“Anything?” he asked when the pressure eased.

Shannon shook his head. “Just a deep haematoma. Let’s get ice on it and wrap it. Not much else we can do right now.” He wiped the gel off Nathan’s skin and motioned for him to sit up.

“It’s fine,” Nathan said, standing and letting Shannon do what he needed to do.

Three hours later, he was home and unpacking boxes of things Octavia had ordered to make his guest room a bit less impersonal. Scottie wouldn’t be there for long, but Nathan figured he may as well do something with the space. He’d been living in the condo for five years and the room didn’t even have art on the wall.

Octavia ordered everything in shades of blue and cream. A calm palette, very different from the black and grey Scottie had in his place. A place he knew Scottie was desperate to return to. He probably could but his neurologist suggested he needed somewhere that was all on one floor, and while Nathan lived on the seventeenth floor, the ramps, elevators, and minimal stairs made it the most ideal place for him to stay for a bit.

Nathan threw the bedding into the wash and then began sorting through the various decor items. Five pieces of art, all seascapes, a couple lamps for the bedside tables, a decorative throw. He burst out laughing when he opened the final box to reveal a Ghost bobblehead.

He set the bobblehead on the dresser and placed the pictures against the wall where he thought Octavia may want to hang them. He glanced down at his watch and smiled, she’d be here soon, probably itching for a massage after a long day in court. She’d deny it but he knew that she was most tense on these days. He’d give her a massage and run a hot bath for her so she could soak while he made dinner. Her coming home to him warmed something in his chest and he had to force himself not to immediately start imagining a future where she always came back. When she was here when he got home from a long trip. When he was there when she got home from work long after he retired.

The door opened as he tucked the end of the sheet beneath the mattress, and he listened to Octavia taking off her coat and setting down her bag. Heard her groan as she slipped off her heels followed by a long sigh.

“Nate?” she called, her voice closer.

“In here,” he replied, straightening, stretching his arms above his head as her head peeked around the door.

She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes trailing down his body, halting where his shirt rose above the waist of his sweats.

“See something you like, Autumn girl?”

She trapped her lower lip between her teeth and shrugged. “You could say that,” she cooed, stepping into the room and walking to him.

He reached for her when she was in front of him and brought her in so her body was flush against his. “Hi,” he breathed out, lowering his head.

“Hi,” she murmured against his lips.

Her lips were like home, the taste of her on his tongue was heaven.