Chapter Five
River
Why did I feel bereft when he bustled out the door, tray on one hand, like a waiter, and big fluffy cat tucked under his arm? I wanted to call him back, ask him to sit with me while I fell asleep or at least leave his pet with me to snuggle with. Hell, I wanted to snuggle with them both. But that was probably the circumstances tweaking my emotions.
Although this was my first “big” injury, meaning one that had the potential to end my career, all athletes are used to pain. From training, from small sprains and strains. Bruises from falls. I’d learned to brush them off, move on through the soreness, the aching, the blisters… So it wasn’t just the pain that had nailed me. I think it was the fear that had me wanting to ask this very comforting alpha to hold my hand and tell me everything would be all right.
But he didn’t know why I was so upset. I didn’t want to drag him down with me. To tell him what it could cost me if this injury didn’t heal the way the doctor thought it would. That’s something I’d seen happen too often. Too many of my friends were coaching new, up-and-coming stars, or working to develop new equipment for companies who wanted them for their name as well as their knowledge of how skiing worked.
My training partner from back when I was fifteen was about to take the California Bar. She was going to be a lawyer. The compound fracture she’d suffered in the last Olympics—she called it the tumble seen round the world—had taken her out of competition permanently. I shuddered at the thought of being shut in an office, or a courtroom, all day long.
I lay there for a long time, worrying about that possibility. And my soon-to-be lawyer friend had all the brains. I had a talent for skiing but no education beyond high school level. Even that had been a challenge for me. I just didn’t have book smarts. Or even knew if I could have them. I’d ditched so much school for skiing, my folks had pulled me out and into homeschooling in seventh grade. And even then, I did the bare minimum, and that resentfully. My career didn’t require algebra or a deep knowledge of how the government worked. I needed to ski!
I wanted to feel the wind in my face, breathe the scent of pine trees and woodsmoke. I wanted to win!
What if I couldn’t ever do it again?
Would I even still be me?
As that thought hit, so did the worst wave of pain of the day. Gasping, I reached for the pill bottle that hadn’t been far from my hand since I got hurt and then remembered it was still in the car. On the front seat. While my doctor warned against taking the pain meds while driving, my plan had been to gulp one the second I parked in the garage.
But I’d been distracted by the other car, and then by cookies and cocoa and a sexy alpha. And that fluffy, sweet cat. None of that was here now. And I hurt!
If I didn’t get one of those tablets of oblivion into me, I’d lie here gasping all night. It wasn’t far to the garage. Luckily, Forrest had insisted I take the master suite, so no stairs to navigate. I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to lever my boot on, but every time I bent over, my head swam from the sharp pain lowering my foot to the floor had made at least twice as bad. Fuck. I was going to have to hop for it.
Picturing the layout of the cabin, I figured I’d have something to hold on to the whole way, and I’d become quite adept at hopping in the past few days. My bathroom at home was feet from my bed, making it pretty easy to get there bootless. This wasn’t much different, I logicked. Working my way across the room, I held onto the nightstand, the dresser, then hopped to the doorway and flipped on the light. Easy peasy. I had this.
The hallway, windowless, to the great room loomed dark. My bedroom light pooled outside the door, but the dark wood paneling absorbed much of the glow once I hopped away from it, one hand on the wall for balance. Where was that light switch anyway? I couldn’t remember. After an eternity, or probably fifteen seconds, of feeling my way along, I found it and gave it a click.
It lit then flashed out. Damn thing! The electrical in our cabin was old and had a tendency to make light bulbs guaranteed to last five thousand hours manage a few hundred at bet. We talked about it every year. Maria might even have it scheduled for this spring. My foot hurt too much to remember details. But I didn’t have too much farther to go, and even with the blizzard whirling snow outside, I could see that the great room was brighter. It also had lamps that would likely work.
I counted to ten, pushing the pain back as far as I could. I wasn’t sure why my foot hurt so much more when it was hanging down than propped up…but it did. Sweat poured down my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I gave it all I had. One more hop, another. Another. As I neared the great room, a white blur tangled with my feet, and I crashed to the floor. Pain seared through my leg and the wrist of the hand I’d automatically thrust out to catch my fall.
I should just give up. I needed my hands, too. And what if I’d done more damage. I only knew that my life sucked, and, by the time I was done, I’d end up working at a call center somewhere, answering questions about dental insurance or something equally depressing. Curling into a ball, I cradled my wrist and tried not to move my leg. Maybe I should just stay here forever.
Through the haze of pain and self-pity, I heard pounding footsteps on the stairs, footsteps that came to a halt right next to where I huddled on the cold hardwood floor.
“River! Are you all right?”
“Sure,” I said, regaining a little of my snarky personality. “I’m just checking the floor for termites.”
I heard a click. “The light doesn’t work.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I ground out, but my voice broke on the end, and I felt like an asshole. This alpha deserved more respect than I offered. He’d made me cocoa and was, frankly, my only avenue to avoid spending the rest of my life right here in the dark hallway, in pain and misery.
“Okay. Let’s see what happened here.”
“I fell.” I gave a huge sigh, peering up at the shadowed figure over me. “Like you said I would. Feel free to say I told you so.”
“Nah.” His voice held so much sympathy, I wanted to kill myself. “I think you’re already beating yourself up. What was so important you had to go hopping through the house in the dark, anyway? I told you to text me if you needed anything.”
A throb rocked through my leg, and I uncurled to get the weight off it. “My pills are in the car. I had some pain.”
“Oh, River. I feel terrible. I didn’t bring everything in? I missed the most important thing, and you didn’t want to ask me to go back out, did you? I apologize.”
All the other stuff had been in my trunk, which was probably where he’d looked. “It’s not your fault. I have the bottle on the seat. But if you can help me up, I promise to be less of an asshole once I get a couple pills in me.”
“Sure.” He took my arm, and I howled. Well, a little. “Oh no. Did you hurt both arms?”
“No.” I swallowed, panting. “Just that one. If you take the other one, and help me up, I can hop back to bed.”
I could feel him staring at me through the darkness. “Please tell me you don’t mean that.”
Suddenly, even through the tears of pain and self-loathing, my chest swelled and laughter burst out. “I am”—I gasped—“the stupidest omega ever born. It’s amazing I survived this long without supervision.”
He didn’t laugh with me. Or at me. Silence held sway for a few very long seconds before he said. “Maybe we can do something about that. But, for now, I’m going to pick you up and carry you to your bed. Then we’ll try to figure out how to keep you from getting any more hurt until the snowstorm lets up enough for us to get you checked out.” He paused. “Unless you think you are damaged enough to ask emergency personnel to try to get up here?”
All that resonated was “pick you up and carry you.” I wanted to protest, but, even more, I wanted him to carry me cradled against that broad chest all the way to my bed. And preferably stay there with me until morning.