Page 33 of His Christmas Love Song

“It might be broken,” Hank says. “We won’t be certain until you get an X-ray. We don’t have those facilities here. But even if it’s just a bad bruise and sprain, the treatment is basically the same. I’m going to wrap it, give you a sling. You’re going to ice it and elevate it and take pain meds as needed.”

“Damn,” Ryan says ruefully. “I need this arm to play.”

Jesse hadn’t realized that an immobile right arm means Ryan won’t be able to pick up a guitar for a while.

“It’ll heal up in a few weeks,” Hank says in his calm doctor’s tone, “if you take care of it properly. We’ll know a bit more after the scan. For now, let’s get some ice on there. I’m going to grab a few things and be right back. You.” He points at Jesse. “Chill.” Then he leaves, the door standing open.

Jesse presses his lips together and sucks the seam between his teeth to keep himself from talking.

“I know the truly herculean effort you are making,” Ryan says, looking at his feet instead of at Jesse, “and I promise I’ll explain what happened. You can yell at me all you want later.” He glances up, his eyes aqua under the fluorescent lights. “But right now, can I just get a hug?”

Jesse pushes to his feet, crosses the little room, and puts his arms around Ryan, being extremely careful of Ryan’s injured elbow. He tucks his chin onto Ryan’s shoulder, folds his body as close as he can with the exam table exaggerating their height imbalance. He takes a deep breath, Ryan smelling reassuringly like himself. He feels the moment Ryan relaxes into the hug, his shoulders dropping, his uninjured arm curving around Jesse’s side. They’ve hugged lots of times, one-armed bro-hugs and quick squeezes and jocular pats on the back. Jesse’s never sunk into Ryan’s space and stayed there. He’s never let himself turn his face toward Ryan’s neck and let his nose graze Ryan’s skin. He wants to press a kiss to that skin, over Ryan’s pulse, but Ryan only said he wanted a hug. Jesse’s going to do a better job of listening.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Ryan says, his voice gravelly. “I thought I was seeing things when you got out of Hank’s truck.”

“I’m here,” Jesse whispers. “I’ll always be here.”

Ryan shifts and Jesse looks up just as Hank walks back into the room his hands full of supplies. He lets go of Ryan reluctantly, squeezes his shoulder briefly, then sits in his chair again before Hank can lecture him.

Ryan’s cheeks have more color now. Hank wraps his elbow and arm, applies ice, and shows him how to use the sling.

“I’ll tell you where you can make an appointment to get an X-ray, and I’ll check on your arm tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Hank. I’m sorry about this. You tried to tell me not to go and I didn’t listen.”

“Hey, I’m not mad. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Hank glances between them. “Though if I never had to patch up either of you knuckleheads again, I’d be a happy man.”

“Me too,” Ryan says on a sigh. “So, are we stuck here?”

“Actually, I saw them plowing Main Street. I’ll call Emma and see if the road up to the lodge has been cleared yet and then we can go back. Locals aren’t dumb enough to go out in this weather, so hopefully my phone won’t be ringing again tonight.”

While Hank calls Emma, Jesse helps Ryan put his flannel and jacket on his non-injured side and tuck them around his immobilized arm as best he can. Ryan looks as if he wants to say something, but when Jesse raises an eyebrow in question, he shakes his head. Later.

The roads are better since the plow and the sander came through, and they pile into Hank’s truck for the short drive to the lodge. When they get there, Jesse realizes they all missed dinner.

Hank parks and they enter through the front. “Emma said she left a tray behind the bar. You two go ahead. I’m still on call, so I’ll check in with you tomorrow. Don’t be a hero about the pain, Ryan. Take something when you need to.”

“Yes, sir,” Ryan says. He has shadows under his eyes and Jesse wonders if they should skip dinner and go straight to the cabin and turn in. But pain meds will go down better with food, so he gives Hank a short hug, tells him a heartfelt thank you, and they make their way to the great room.

There’s a fire in the fire pit, and a cluster of people playing a board game on one of the breakfast tables. Jesse steers Ryan to a comfortable looking chair near the fire, then goes to the bar and finds a tray of sandwiches. He liberates a few bottles of water from the bar’s under-counter mini fridge. They eat in silence, and when Ryan’s put away half a roast beef sandwich, a bottle of water, and three ibuprofen, Jesse allows himself to relax. The fire is throwing off a lot of heat and his lids are starting to droop after the emotional turmoil of the day, with its nearly catastrophic ending. Ryan looks ready to lean back in his chair and fall asleep.

“You must be tired,” Jesse says. “Let’s go back to the cabin. My bathroom has that big soaking tub. You can use it, take a long bath.”

“I am tired. And a bath sounds good. But don’t you want to talk?”

He wants to say yes, to tell Ryan what he realized, to beg him for another chance to respond to the earth-shattering news that Ryan’s in love with him, properly this time. But it’ll keep. They’re together, and Ryan’s safe, and the snow’s still falling. His feelings aren’t going away.

“Tomorrow.”

SIXTEEN

Jesse’s so tired by the time he falls into bed he sleeps like the dead for eight hours and wakes up to thin gray light coming through the edges of the blinds in his room. The cabin feels chilly, and he throws on a sweater and heavy socks before shuffling out to see if he can get something resembling coffee to come out of the machine in the kitchenette. He stops at the sight of Ryan asleep on the too-short couch, his legs curled up toward his belly, lying on his non-injured side. The blanket from his bedroom is clenched around him and there’s a groove between his eyebrows.

Ryan’s in pain.

Quietly, Jesse moves through the cabin, fills a glass with water, drinks half of it while looking in their fridge. He sets the glass down and wrinkles his nose at the leftovers from taco night. He checks the time. They’ve started serving breakfast in the lodge. He’ll get dressed and get food and real coffee and when he gets back he’ll make Ryan take more pain relievers. But when he turns to go back to his room, Ryan’s sitting up on the couch, his hair sticking up every which way.

Jesse moves to Ryan’s side, crouching on the floor. He gets a buzzy feeling in his stomach seeing Ryan wear his Titans T-shirt and a pair of his sweats. Ryan’s stuff got left behind in last night’s commotion.