“What? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” I feel my heart jump in my chest in fear. Is he badly injured? Will he be able to continue in the playoffs? I can’t imagine a Nash who is sidelined for playoffs. He’d be like a cornered alligator.
“It’s just that it wasn’t clear. Gabby and the team doc think it was a mistake by the tech and I have to get another one,” I reply. “Not worth updating you on.”
Something doesn’t sit right in my gut as I process that information, but my phone buzzes from the pocket of my jeans downstairs so I retreat. It buzzes again as I make my way down the stairs and again as I pick it up. Family Group Chat.
Aunt C: I need a Family Zoom. When works for everyone?”
Con: Everyone? Like the whole fam damily?
Theo: Your dad jokes suck. I’m free whenever.
Grady: Unlike Theo, I’ve got hockey.
Theo: Fuck you.
Aunt Rose: Theo! Rude.
Grady: We fly to Vancouver tomorrow, early. But we have time in the afternoon, I think. Tate?
Tate: Yeah. Like after 3pm EST. What’s this about?
Harlow: Everything okay?
Devin: Everything is fine right now. So let’s go with 4pm tomorrow?
Aunt Leah: Cryptic.
Uncle Cole: I have work but I’ll make it happen if it’s important.
Shelby: It’s important, Dad.
Shelby knows! I think. Of course, she does. She's a nurse at Silver Bay Medical Center. I'm suddenly both relieved and furious that my cousin didn't share, or push Aunt Callie to share.
Liv: Okay… this is weird.
Aunt C: Nobody stress. Talk tomorrow!
Mom: Callie… I’m calling you.
Aunt C: I won’t answer.
I decide to add to the chat because if I don’t it will look weird. So I send a thumbs up. I feel sick and weepy again. God, this night has been a rollercoaster and suddenly, all I want is to get off this ride. I look up the stairs. Nash is at the top, about to come down, my clothes neatly folded in his hands. “You okay?”
“I think I just need to go to bed,” I say and meet him halfway to grab my clothes. “Night.”
“Oh. Okay. Good night.”
I head down the hall, my damp feet making a slapping sound against the polished concrete floor. I dump my clothes on the floor, drop the towel, and crawl into bed.
Chapter 19
Nash
“Can you stop bouncing your knee?” the director asks. I nod. “And don’t tap your fingers.”
I’ve decided I don’t like this dude. His name is Fisher. That’s not a name, that’s a profession or a hobby. He’s got a sleazy vibe and a smug face and… I think he’s got the hots for my wife.
Christ, I hate that I like how the word wife sounds. The longer this farce goes on, the more comfortable I am with playing house with Tenley. I spent the time between the two games in Vancouver hanging out with Tate, Grady, and Crew because the day we landed Callie Garrison told her family about the squatter on her ovary. A solid cyst, potentially, but they needed to do a biopsy to be one hundred percent sure it wasn't cancer, given her family history. Crew spent a lot of time on the phone with Liv, which made sense because Callie is her mom. I also called Tenley every night. She was now mad at her cousin Shelby, a nurse, who apparently knew all along about Callie.