Page 70 of Pucked Together
The entire Heatwave starting lineup will be replaced with our subs for the foreseeable future. And I wouldn't leave my girl's side until she walked out those doors by my side.
I nod my understanding.
"I'll leave you to spend some time. Visiting hours end in twenty minutes." The doctor gives a soft bow of her head and leaves.
"Go, get some rest,” I say. “You guys look like you're ok."
"You think a little plane crash is going to rattle us?" Hicks says, blowing raspberries. "We're not going anywhere, Balsy. We'll be right by your side in that waiting room."
Fergie nods his agreement.
"He's right. You guys should get some rest." Rina says, striding into the room and standing to the right of my beautiful siren. "Ryker and I will hold down the fort," she winks at me as she runs a hand over Izzy's in a sisterly touch.
The machines Izzy's attached to hiss and puff around her.
"Fine," Fergie says. "But in the morning, we're bringing tacos."
"Wouldn't expect anything less," Rina smiles, her eyes still on my girl. She turns to me. "Keelan knows her better than anyone. She'll be ok, Ry guy."
Ry guy. Wow. She hasn't called me that since college. Though I'm sure the way she was caring for Keelan, she's definitely brought down the wall she's built up around us this whole time.
"Come on," she tells the guys. "Let's give them some space."
They follow her out the door, but before they're out of sight, Hicks leans back in.
"If you need anything. Anything at all..." he shakes the phone in his hand, and I get the message. I give him a nod, and he shuts the door behind him.
Finally, I can breathe.
The machines are still helping Izzy breathe. Still pushing air in. And pushing it out.
I sit beside her, taking her hand in mine and bringing her limp fingers to my lips. She still smells so much like herself, even with the sterile environment of the hospital seeping into her pores.
I pull out the phone from my back pocket and re-read the text she sent me that I've read almost a hundred times already.
Izzy: I don't want any regrets. I want you. For real. No more faking things.
I think we both know we’re long past faking things. She's not in the clear.
But this promise. This one singular promise has me fighting the tug of my lips into a smile.
"When you wake up, Iz. Your mine. Only mine," I whisper to the beautiful woman before me.
Chapter 22
Izzy
My eyelids won't budge.
Why?
Why can't I open my eyes?
I try again, and the tiniest sliver of light comes through, and I force them shut again.
Ugh. Why is it so hard to open my eyes?
"Nurse..." there's the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as a male voice calls out, "Nurse!"