I pulled back, stomach in knots, and waited.
26
GARRETT
Ramsey’s expectant look said I was supposed to be doing something, saying something, but coherency was a bit of a challenge at the moment. My head wasn’t on fire anymore, thanks to the meds I’d been given, but there was a persistent throb in the base of my skull and a fuzzy warmth cocooning my body that could’ve been meds, but could have also been everything Ramsey had just said. “You make me feel everything.”
“Everything?” I repeated slowly. “But, the good part of everything, right? Not the annoying, shitty parts of everything?”
Ramsey chuckled. “A lot of the annoying parts are actually my favorite parts of everything.” He frowned. “Now you’re getting me all jumbled up.”
“Welcome to my current headspace.” I shifted in the bed and winced, and Ramsey’s brow immediately creased with concern.
“Need me to call the nurse or—”
“No, I’m fine. Promise. Can you say the part about everything again, though? Or maybe all of it?” I circled a finger around my temple. “Kinda taking longer than usual for things to process.” That was mostly true. I also just wanted to hear him say it again. The shock of him blurting it out earlier had completely discombobulated me.
“You mean all the stuff about me being in love with you?”
I nodded. “And that part where you don’t care what the league says, and then the part about how I make you feel.”
Ramsey’s eyes narrowed with realization, but instead of calling me out, he bent low, fingers dusting lightly over my jaw as his lips brushed the shell of my ear, the words soft and intimate. “I love you, Garrett McRae, and I don’t give a fuck who knows.”
Words I never thought I’d hear. Never expected to. They swooped through me and settled in my chest, a spark of warmth burning through the pain.
Ramsey pulled back. “You never thought you’d hear them? But you wanted to?”
“Fuck, is my head inside out again?” But clearly, that was the case, given Ramsey’s expression. “I wanted to, yeah. I think…fuck, I’m not sure I should tell you how long I’ve been in love with you.”
“I think you should.”
“At least a day. Maybe a week. Possibly more like…months?” Not years. That would be too much. That could be…stalker-y?
“Years?” Ramsey’s brows flickered up, a smile playing over his face.
“Goddammit, I know I didn’t say that out loud.” Fuck me, had I?
Ramsey’s eyes twinkled with humor. “You didn’t say it out loud, but now I know you were thinking it.”
I barked out a hoarse laugh. “Can I take back my ‘I love you’ now? Because fucking with a man in a hospital bed like that is cruel.”
Ramsey caught my hand and pressed a kiss to my lips. “No more so than pretending you didn’t hear what I said in the first place.”
“Fair point, but I’ll also warn you right now I’ll be milking this for all it’s worth, and you’ll take it if you really love me.”
“I really do.”
“And I really love you, Warner Ramsey. I don’t care who knows it either.” I yanked him close again and accidentally slammed his elbow into the railing. This hospital bed was already cock-blocking me. “I know there’s a lot of shit that’s got to get figured out and sorted—”
“Starting with getting you healed up, back on your feet, and back on the field. I’m not gonna let anything come down on you, Garrett. I don’t care what happens to my career anymore.”
We could go around and around trying to protect each other, but one thing I knew for sure. “We’ll figure it out together. For right now, can you just stay here?”
Ramsey’s eyes softened with warmth. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
And for whatever reason, it was that sentence that hit me square in the gut, blooming outward, erasing the anxiety and tension that had lingered inside me for months. I drew in a shuddery breath, and then coughed to cover it up, but I was pretty sure Ramsey saw right through it, the way he took my hand again and squeezed it. There was understanding in it, and love, and I knew exactly what he’d meant when he’d said everything.
He pulled one of the chairs closer to the bed and dropped into it, raking a hand through his hair with a long sigh. “Fuck, today feels like a lifetime.”
“I hardly remember the game.”
“Do you remember getting hit?”
“Sort of, not really. All that’s fuzzy.”
“It was a great play, though. You caught that bullet like a fucking champ.”
“’Course I did.”
He snorted softly. “Good to see your ego’s still intact despite that blow.”
“Are you offering?” I tried for seductive, but considering my current state with an IV in my arm and propped in a hospital bed, it was dicey. It all felt like overkill for a concussion, but no one had wanted to take any chances.