Chapter 28

Milo

 

 

This must be what death feels like, I mused, as I stretched out on the bed of my hotel room. I felt like I’d been run over by a semi that reversed and ran me over a second time. I was likely suffering some horrible, fatal condition and I would never get to play football again or see my daughter.

“Coach,” I croaked out when he answered his phone. “Coach, I can’t make practice. Hell, I don’t know if I can make the game on Sunday.”

“What’s the matter?” he barked.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m dying a slow, miserable death. Everything hurts.”

He chuckled.

Not exactly the kind of sympathy I had been looking for.

“I’ll send over one of the team doctors to check you out. Try not to die before then,” he joked and hung up.

It wasn’t a laughing matter. This had to be the worst I’d ever felt in my life, and I had played football for a living. I was regularly throttled and slammed into the ground. This was different. This was as if my entire body was rebelling against me and didn’t even want to try and feel better.

I heard the knock on my hotel room door but getting up to answer the door felt like an impossible feat. Whoever was on the other side was persistent though, and I managed to shuffle to the door and open it.

“Mr. Pastek, I’m Dr. Stevens. I hear you’re feeling a little under the weather.”

I looked at him and decided if I’d had the strength, I would have hit him. This wasn’t under the weather. This was death.

“Something like that,” I mumbled.

He nodded and stepped into the room. “Have a seat and let’s check you out.”

I did as he asked, flopping down on the small sofa in the room. I let him do his thing, unable to protest much at all.

“I think you’re a little dehydrated. You may have a virus or it could be the flu. Either way, the key is to stay hydrated. Lots of liquids and rest. I’ll give you a three-day pass to excuse you from practice. You may feel better in a day or two but take it easy. You don’t want a relapse,” he lectured.

I nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”

The doctor left, and I fell back to sleep on the couch. I lacked the energy to go back to the bed, even though it would have been far more comfortable.

It felt like only a few minutes had passed when I heard someone knocking on the door again. I moaned. Couldn’t people just leave me alone and let me die in peace. I ignored the door, but whoever it was, wasn’t leaving.

I stomped to the door and pulled it open. “What?”

I was stunned to see Liza standing there. I saw pity on her face.

“Oh, geez, you idiot. Go to bed. Why didn’t you call for help?”

“How did you know I was sick?”

She put a hand on her hip and looked at me. “How do you think?”

“Coach?”

“Yes, or as I know him, Dad. He told me you didn’t sound too good. I figured you probably picked up what Ainsley had last week. I brought supplies,” she said, holding up two bags full of goods.

I stared at the bags and considered protesting but realized it was futile. I didn’t have the strength and I needed the help.

“Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem. Come on, go to bed. I’ll get you some juice. Have you eaten today?”

I groaned, not even wanting to think about food. “No.”

“You need to keep your strength up. I brought some soup and crackers.”

I crawled onto the bed, thankful she was there, even if I was still pissed at her. “Thanks.”

I could hear the microwave beeping, and before long, she was sitting beside me on the bed. “Here, drink some of this. The warm broth will help you feel better, trust me.”

Taking it, I sipped it slowly. The heat poured down my throat and began to warm me from the inside out. I had been so cold, and no amount of blankets seemed to help. She took the cup and gave me a bottle of water. I took a few drinks before she took it and set it on the bedside table.

“Close your eyes and get some sleep.”

“Why did you come?”

She rolled her eyes, “I told you.”

“No, you said your dad told you I was sick.” The soup had given me a little more energy because I felt strong enough to argue.

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m not. I don’t want to put you out.”

She heaved a sigh and sat down at the foot of the bed. “I’m not put out. You can ask for help, you know.”

“Not from you. I tried to kiss you, and you looked as if you wanted to die,” I reminded her.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. I just kind of freaked. I mean, we were in my dad’s kitchen. And you lecturing me about freaking out is like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely confused.

She laughed. “Really? You had three panic attacks in less than twenty-four hours, all because you heard the F-word or thought about the F-word.”

“What? Fuck? Trust me, that does not give me a panic attack. I can prove it to you right now,” I said, but knew the chances of that actually happening were slim to none. I could probably get it up, but how well I could perform was debatable.

Another eye roll. “Not fuck, Milo. Family.”

“Oh. It isn’t like that. I mean, yeah, it freaks me out a little.”

She nodded her head as if she was agreeing with me about something important. “That’s why I panicked when you tried to kiss me.”

“Because I freaked out over the family thing? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does. I’m not going to bring you into my life and have you step out whenever you feel like it or whenever you get nervous. You don’t want to settle down, and I get that, but I’m not going to be your on and off girlfriend. I’m not like that. We’re very different in that regard, which isn’t your fault or mine,” she explained.

“You don’t know me as well as you think, Liza,” I murmured. “I’m not my reputation.”

She shrugged a shoulder. Obviously, she didn’t believe me, and I knew I hadn’t given her proof to demonstrate otherwise. I would though, but I couldn’t think about all of that at this moment. My body was rebelling against me and demanding all of my attention.

I was suddenly very dizzy.

“Milo?”

“I need to close my eyes.”

She bounded off the bed and grabbed the small trashcan. “Here, in case you can’t make it to the toilet.”

“No. I’m fine,” I started before it became very clear that I wasn’t.

I rushed to the bathroom and barely made it in time. Once I expunged all the soup and water I had just managed to get down, I made my way back to the bed. Liza was waiting for me with the covers pulled back.

“Get in bed,” she ordered.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just get in bed. I’ll get you something to drink.”

“No. Nothing else.”

She ignored me as she pulled the blanket up to my waist and tucked me in. She was gone for a few minutes before she came back with a bottle of Pedialyte with a bendy straw sticking out the top.

“Here, drink,” she ordered.

“This for kids,” I protested.

“Oh, shut-up and drink. It’s good for you. You bought it for Ainsley.”

I sipped it. It wasn’t exactly good, but it wasn’t horrible.

“I’m a mess,” I mumbled, too sick to even be embarrassed.

She smiled and took the Pedialyte from me. “I’m sorry. I know how much it sucks to feel miserable.”

I leaned back against the pillow and closed my eyes before a thought popped into my head. “Where’s Ainsley?”

“She’s with my friend, Vanessa. I didn’t want to bring her over here and risk her picking up what you have. Plus, she isn’t exactly conducive to rest. I didn’t think you’d want a wild four-year-old running around your hotel room. Although,” she said, looking around my rather lavish suite, “this isn’t exactly the type of hotel rooms we’re used to. A separate bedroom is a nice bonus.”

I grinned, “Damn straight.”

“Are you going to look for a more permanent place or are you going to keep wasting your money on what is no doubt a very expensive hotel?”

“I plan on buying or leasing a place. I wanted to wait to see how it went with the team first though. If I sucked, they would cut me, and I would be sent packing. I didn’t want to go through the hassle of finding a place and having to move again.”

She smiled, “Always one foot out the door, right?”

“What?”

“You. You’re afraid of putting down roots. You always have one foot out the door. I guess it goes back to that whole family thing.”

I laid there staring at her. Processing what she had said. “I’m screwed up, aren’t I?”

“Maybe a little, but maybe we all are in a way.”

I sighed and accepted the fact that I would likely never find that perfect life I knew I wanted but was too afraid to try and have.

“Does this mean we can’t mess around anymore?” I grinned, waggling my eyebrows. It was a joke. I knew I looked like hell and the last thing the woman wanted was sex with me.

“Oh, we can definitely mess around. You’re afraid of family and commitment. I get it. I’m okay with that. I’m not looking for anything that serious, but I think we need to keep a fine line right down the middle. I can’t play family when you want, and then you go out on the road banging every whore that gives you an invitation.”

My eyes widened at her very blunt words. “Wow.”

She shrugged. “If that doesn’t work for you, tell me now. We can be friends. I won’t hate you.”

“It works,” I mumbled.

Another wave of nausea swept over my body. My expression must have made it obvious. She pulled back the covers. “Go, before you can’t make it.”

I bolted out of bed and lost the contents of my stomach once again. I was going to die. Death would be welcome at that point.

“I’m just going to lay here,” I told her from the bathroom floor.

“No, you’re not, you’ll get chilled and really be sick. Come on, back to bed. Try and go to sleep. It will help,” she said, gently pulling my arm and helping me up.

I crawled back into bed where she tucked me in before pulling the shades to darken the room.

“Thank you,” I muttered, not wanting to move or talk for fear of bringing on another bout of vomiting.

“You’re welcome. I’ll be right out here. Holler if you need me,” she said, closing the door behind her.

I wanted to tell her she could go home, that I was fine, but I didn’t have the strength. I’d never had anyone to take care of me before. It was a very strange feeling. I liked it. It was my first real glimpse at what it meant to have a family. It isn’t all that scary, I thought to myself as my body relaxed and I drifted off to sleep. Maybe I could get used to the idea if it meant I had Liza around to take care of me, and I would be there to take care of her and our daughter.