Page 135 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

A barely audible “Come in,” filtered through the wood.

Auston opened it up, making sure not a lot of light entered. “Hey. How’re you feeling?” He’d been expecting a hit of Omega scent, but there was barely anything there. Not even hurt.

Auston frowned. He’d been surprised with it the day before, but now he had time to process it.

How the fuck was Chase hiding his scent during a goddamn concussion?

“Better, actually,” Chase answered, knocking Auston out of his thoughts.

He peered into the darkness. The kid had sat up slightly, face creased into a light grimace. “Dizziness? Nausea? Pain?”

“Um. No nausea. A little dizzy if I move. And, yeah, headache is pretty bad.”

“You’ve taken your meds?”

“Oh. Uh, not yet. Sorry. I’m a little fuzzy,” Chase replied, voice tight.

“No worries. You should probably rest as much as you can. I’ll bring you some toast…I think I’ve got tea here somewhere, too. Sound good?”

“Oh. You really don’t have to.”

“I kinda do, kid. It’s my job to take care of you.”

“I mean…I can probably do it.”

Annoyance crawled up his throat. “Just stay there. I’ll bring you the food. Don’t take the pills until you’ve got something in you. If you wanna come out later, I’ll have all the curtains drawn, okay?”

“Uhm. Okay.”

Auston nodded sharply and shuffled off.

He took care of the curtains first before setting out to make breakfast, piling some mushed avocado on toasted whole-wheat bread and making some tea. He got a fresh cup of water, too, and took that tray to Chase’s room.

The kid sat up again as Auston entered, squinting at him but less pale and drawn than the previous day.

That was the thing with concussions. You really didn’t know what you were gonna get, no matter how you felt right after the hit.

“Wow. Thanks,” the kid said, staring at the tray in his lap.

Did you expect me to just let you starve, or…? Instead, Auston said, “Curtains are drawn, so if you get tired of being holed up here, just come out. I’ll try not to make noise.”

Chase stared up at him with wide eyes. “You don’t have to—”

“Kid. I’m taking care of you until you get better. Or Sammy gets back from the road trip and kidnaps you. So, deal with it.”

“Oh, no, I can go home today. For real.”

Auston rolled his eyes heavenward. Universe, give me patience. “Sal will be coming over to check up on you later, and I guarantee he’ll tell you to stay here a few more days, so try to assimilate that into your thick head.”

Fuck. Wasn’t he trying to be nicer?

Auston didn’t wait for a reply, limping out and leaving the door cracked open in case Chase needed anything. By the looks of it, though, Chase would have to be actively dying to ask for help.

Auston tried doing some chores, but his hip was acting up too much, so he settled in the living room, TV on but volume low. He kept glancing at his phone, expecting to see a text from Charlie and then remembering his phone was broken. He eventually got up to take the plates from Chase’s room and wordlessly handed him a cold press for his head.

Sal arrived at noon, checking on both of them and agreeing with Auston—the kid should stay supervised until further notice.

“Concussions are unpredictable and can be incredibly debilitating very suddenly. It’s a myth that you have to be checked in on during sleep, but someone should be nearby in case something happens.”