Riley
The nurse had just left the room, the soft click of the door sounding louder than it should’ve. It was just the two of us now. Lucas and me. In a hospital room that smelled too clean and looked too white. He lay propped up against the pillows, hair messy, skin pale, but somehow still managing to look smug.
“So…” he drawled with a lopsided grin. “Girlfriend?”
I let out a breathy laugh, rolling my eyes. “I had to say something to get past security.”
“You could’ve said you were my cousin.”
“Gross,” I muttered, wrinkling my nose. “I like having standards.”
He chuckled, eyes gleaming with something softer than usual. “Still. Kind of nice hearing it. Even if it was a lie.”
“Didn’t say it was a lie.”
That caught him off guard. He blinked, his smirk faltering just for a second.
I shrugged, crossing my legs in the chair beside his bed. “Don’t read into it, Rivera. Desperate times call for desperate declarations.”
Lucas leaned forward a bit, testing the limits of his bruised ribs. He winced, then gave me a cocky smile. “You always get desperate for me when I’m injured, huh?”
I threw a pillow at him. It missed by a mile, but the message was clear.
“I was worried about you,” I said quietly. “Seeing you on the ground like that—it… it felt like my lungs stopped.”
His expression shifted. The humor faded a little as he looked at me seriously. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
I nodded, chewing the inside of my cheek. “You weren’t supposed to be playing. I told the board. I told the team. You needed more time.”
“She said I was fine,” he muttered.
I raised a brow. “The PT?”
He nodded.
I scoffed. “Great judgment. Clearly.”
Lucas sighed and looked away. “It’s not her fault. I pushed her. I needed to prove something.”
“To who?” I asked, trying not to let my voice crack. “To the team? The press? Or to yourself?”
His gaze met mine again. “To you.”
The air felt heavier suddenly. Like it pressed in around us.
“You think I needed you to prove something?” I whispered.
“I think I’ve always been scared you’d outgrow me.”
I blinked. The room spun for half a second.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
His lips twitched. “Not exactly the reaction I hoped for.”
“I didn’t leave because I outgrew you, Lucas. I left because you pushed me away.”
He didn’t deny it. Just looked down at his blanket and ran a hand over the fabric.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said. “You were getting those offers. Talking about conferences and fellowships. And I was… stuck.”
“You weren’t stuck,” I said, standing now. “You were scared.”
He looked up at me, eyes glassy. “Yeah.”
There was a pause, like neither of us knew where to go next.
Then Lucas tilted his head, the playfulness returning. “You know… there is one thing you could do to make it up to me.”
“Oh, no,” I warned, narrowing my eyes.
He patted the side of the bed. “Just a little kiss. Right here.” He tapped his cheek, smirking. “For my pain and suffering.”
I stared at him.
He kept smirking.
And before I could stop myself, I leaned forward and kissed him. Not on the cheek.
On the lips.
It wasn’t soft. Or shy. It was immediate and reckless and full of everything we hadn’t said. His hand found the back of my neck like muscle memory, and my fingers curled in the sheets near his leg.
He tasted like mint and medicine. Like home. Like the past and the future colliding all at once.
When I pulled back, breathless, his eyes were wide with disbelief.
“Okay,” he rasped. “Not gonna lie. I thought you’d slap me. That was way better.”
So I slapped him.
Not hard. Just a light one to the shoulder. “That was for being smug.”
He laughed. “Worth it.”
I smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to act unaffected even though my heart was sprinting.
He leaned back on the bed, hand resting over his chest. “You know, this hospital room is starting to feel like the best place I’ve been all week.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, grabbing the pillow again, “enjoy it while it lasts. Recovery starts tomorrow.”
He groaned. “You’re still my physical therapist, aren’t you?”
“Every damn day.”
He looked up, surprise flickering across his face. “You’re staying here?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He paused, then asked quietly, “What about your research?”
I smiled gently, feeling something warm bloom inside me. “Without you, there’s no research.”