Chapter Four

I force my eyes open as I hear the creak of the door. Matt is standing in front of me, shaking his head. He looks angry, and I don’t blame him. If I were him, I’d be pissed too.

It’s slowly coming back to me, but my memory is fuzzy. The girls from the club. Slipping over on the balcony. I remember calling Josh, but nothing after that until waking up in here a few hours ago.

I must’ve passed out.

“I know, I know,” I mutter, trying to ignore the pain throbbing through my lower back. It’s still so fucking intense. “You don’t need to say it.”

“I think I do.” He laughs and pulls a chair closer to the bed. “What the hell were you thinking? Oh wait, that’s right: you don’t think. You’re completely insane.”

“I didn’t know it was broken,” I grumble. I reach for my morphine button and press it. Relief surges through my veins. Fuck.

“Fuck, Ryder. All I can say is you’re lucky this happened now, and not at the start of the season.”

“Lucky?” I growl. I fail to see how this makes me lucky in any way. I’d forfeited the final of the French Open. My sponsors were going to kill me. On second thought, this whole disaster was probably great exposure for them.

“Oh, quit acting like you didn’t bring this on yourself. This is a PR fucking nightmare,” he says, running a hand through his silver hair. “You know the women you were with went straight to the tabloids? You need to start thinking with your head instead of your dick.”

“Are you done?” I snap. I glare at him. “I fucked up. I’m aware of that. You going on about it isn’t going to change anything, is it?”

“No, but it might make you think twice before doing something so stupid again. For fuck’s sake, you slipped and broke your ass bone getting out of a fucking hot tub—mid-orgy, no doubt—the night before—no, the morning of the final for the French Open. How could you be so fucking stupid?”

“I’m aware of the details,” I say, gritting my teeth. Will he just go already, and leave me to wallow in peace?

“You’re a fucking laughing stock. I mean, who the fuck breaks their ass? I hope the sex was at least worth it,” he goes on and on. I close my eyes and groan, wishing he would just leave already. He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know.

And I’m sure the sex would’ve been fantastic, if we’d gotten that far.

“I have to go and sort this shit out—not that I think there is much hope of that. Try not to get into any more trouble in here, okay?”

I roll my eyes as he stands up. He kicks the chair back, sending it flying against the wall as he storms out of the room. He’s right. I know that. This is the type of shit that stays in the gossip columns for weeks. It’s the kind of material that comedians thrive on.

I’ll be the butt of jokes for weeks . . . literally.

**

For the rest of the day I drift in and out of sleep, only waking when the pain becomes so bad that I need to shift the weight off my back. How can one tiny bone cause so much fucking hurt?

Nurses filter in and out to take my vitals and roll me over onto my other side. I swear every single one of them is laughing at me. I am so fucking embarrassed, because I know that they all know exactly what happened. The whole fucking world knows.

It’s nearly four p.m. when I hear the door. I look up and see Josh. He sits down on the chair next to my bed.

“Hey, man.”

“Hi,” I mutter.

“How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling?” I groan.

He raises his eyebrows, and I immediately feel bad for taking my anger out on him.

“Sorry. I’m sore, and every time I think about what happened I want to cringe. But apart from that I’m great.”

“Have the doctors told you how long you’ll be out of action for?”

I shrug. It’s too depressing to even think about anymore. “In here for a week, then off my feet for a few more. After that, who the fuck knows?” I groan. Josh snorts, and I raise my eyebrows at him. “Is there something you wanna say?” 

“Sorry, but you have more sex than any guy I know. I can’t imagine you bedbound for a freaking day, let alone a month.”

Fuck! I hadn’t even thought about that. This was getting worse and worse.

“Can we please talk about something other than this?” I plead, closing my eyes.

“Yeah, sure.” He reaches down and into the bag at his feet. “I brought some shit in for you. Your laptop, some magazines, chocolate . . . Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you, okay?”

“Thanks,” I say. “What am I supposed to do, man? I can’t lie on my arse for the next month. You know me, dude. I can’t sit still through a fucking movie.”

“You don’t have a choice.” He shrugs. “Do something to take your mind off things. Learn a language. Answer some of your freaking fan mail, for once. Just take it for what this is and relax. It could’ve been worse. If you keep focusing on how bad this is, you’ll end up depressed.”

Too late.

“I gotta run. I have a meeting with a new sponsor, but I’ll come in tomorrow and see you before I fly out, okay? Is your family coming over?”

I nod. The only thing worse than being stuck on my arse for weeks, bored out of my mind, is having my family around to see it.

**

By Tuesday, I am ready to kill myself—and it’s only been three days. There is no way in hell I’m going to be able to lay around and do nothing for another three-and-a-half weeks. The only saving grace is I get to leave the hospital today. I’m also actually looking forward to seeing my parents.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family—but I love my independence more. Mum has a habit of treating me like I’m still her baby, and Dad is forever having a go at me for not fully embracing my talent. He’s a big shot scientist who I’d been trying my whole life to please. Until I just stopped trying because I knew I’d never be good enough.

 

I groan as I think about all the shit Hails is going to give me. Younger than me by seven years, I know my sister will take full advantage of the opportunity to embarrass the hell out of me. It will be like Christmas come early for her, and I was beginning to regret how seriously I’d taken my role as older brother when we were growing up.

Yep, I’d dished up my fair share of shit to her, and she was the type of person who didn’t forget. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a notebook full of incidents she needed to pay me back for.

Like the time I covered her and her friends in honey as they slept in the living room: they woke up that morning covered in ants. Or the time I’d scared her boyfriend so bad that he’d wet himself in front of a whole load of kids when I was picking her up from school.

Yep, she definitely had cause for retaliation.

 

I’m dressed, lying on the bed and ready to leave, when my parents arrive. Mum rushes over and hugs me while Dad starts carrying my bags down to the car. Hailey gives me a quick hug and then sits down and pulls out her phone. I laugh, and she shoots me a dirty look.

“You think just because you broke your arse I need to give up my social life?” she sniggers.

“Hailey,” Mum warns.

“What?” she protests. But she slips her phone back into her pocket. “Is it true how you did it?”

“Hailey,” Mum snaps again.

“I’m just making conversation. Geez.” She stands up and storms out of the room.

“Sorry, she’s a hormonal teenager,” Mum explains.

I chuckle. “She’s not much different to her usual self. How are you guys? Sorry to drag you all the way over here.”

“Oh stop it, Ryder. We’re your family. Of course we’re here. Can you walk?”

“Not very well. I can sit in the chair, so long as I sit on my side.”

Mum wheels the chair closer to the bed, and I manoeuvre myself onto it. I stifle a groan as the pain shoots down both my legs like an electrical current.

“Okay, let’s go,” I say, gritting my teeth.

**

Fresh air has never felt so good. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the huge number of reporters waiting at the entrance for me. I plaster a smile on my face as Mum tries to push her way through the crowd.

“Ryder, is it true you broke your back while having sex with four women?”

“Ryder, are you really off your feet for the next year?”

“Mr Stevens, do you regret any of your behaviour last Friday night?”

I know that voice. I look over and see Anna. She grins at me and I narrow my eyes. My jaw tenses as I force myself to look straight ahead. Mum gets us to the car, where Dad is waiting to load me in. I ignore the questions being fired at me, slamming the door shut as the cameras continue to flash.

The last thing I see as we drive off is Anna’s face and that damn cocky grin.