Cocky Score (The Hawkeyes Hockey Series)

I spent the last four hours thinking about what I was going to say when I got here and then about the same amount of time rehearsing it too, but the second I walk through the door of Mr. Conley’s hospital room, a strange feeling comes over me seeing Briggs sitting by his bedside.

I’m relieved to see Mr. Conley with good color to his skin and his usual bright smile that looks so much like Briggs’s that it makes my heart hurt a little.

Now, everything that seemed so important, like my brother’s approval or the promotion I just turned down, no longer feels important at all. And the things that have me feeling unsure and hesitant, like whether or not this thing with Briggs has staying power, seem like the only thing in the world that matters. Life is short, and we all only have this one life. Taking the chance and spending it with the one you want to be with is worth the risk.

…Right?

Briggs is sitting on the bed next to his father with his back turned to me when his father sees me standing in the doorway and cranes his neck around Briggs, flashing me a welcoming grin. The same grin that holds a warm place in my heart. The same one that would beam back at me when I would come racing over to the Conley’s house to find Isaac and Briggs to play with them. Mr. Conley would whisper the boy’s super-secret hideout location so that I could find them quicker. They never found out that Mr. Conley was my informant, and it’s been our little secret ever since.

“Well, hello, beautiful. Come in,” Mr. Conley says.

Briggs’s neck whips back to watch me as I enter the room, but my eyes are still locked on Mr. Conley.

“Mr. Conley…” I start.

“Oh, don’t let all of this fool you, sweetheart. It’s just a formality. They’re a bunch of money-hungry doctors trying to pay off their student loans that want to run every test known to man so they can bill my insurance,” he says, and then winks with another warm smile. “Bleed ‘em dry, I say. I certainly paid enough in my union dues working for the railroad. It’s time those insurance funds came to use. Never been sick a day until this damn stuff.”

I plaster a smile to keep the welling of tears at bay. “Well, you look fabulous. They must be taking good care of you.”

I’m not lying. For a man with stage three cancer, he does look better than what I was bracing myself to see.

“Yep. They let me have all the Jell-O I want. And if you promise to take my lump of a son out of my hair for an hour or two so that I can finish my new show, I think I can talk one of the nurses into bringing you some of the green apple flavors. They ration those ones out as if they’re made with pure gold, but I’m in good with the nursing staff,” he teases.

“That sounds delicious. I’ll take you up on that.”

I finally look at Briggs with concern that his father thinks he’s a lump. That comment has me worried too.

When my eyes connect with him, his eyes look so sad, even though I can tell the rest of him is putting on a good front. I want to run to him, toss my arms around his neck, and kiss away his hurt. Actually, I want to through my arms around both of them and squeeze them tight.

We should have come sooner. I should have demanded we come home when he first told me about his dad and Briggs’s struggle with coming to terms with the fact that the cancer is back.

“Hi,” I say with a little wave.

“Hi,” Briggs says back.

I look back at Mr. Conley because, oddly enough, he doesn’t look near as miserable as Briggs and doesn’t make me want to burst into tears.

“What show are you watching?” I ask as I take a couple more steps inside and crane my neck to the opposite side of the room as the bed to find a TV mounted to the top of the wall.

Instantly I can tell it’s a soap opera, and I bite back a giggle.

“It’s called Harbor Bay Med, and all the nurses have me watching it. It’s addictive, and right now, one of the patients was in a car accident with her ex-husband, but she’s the leading surgeon in the hospital, and she needs to do the procedure to save her ex-husband’s life even though she can’t even remember her own name… or his.”

“Mom’s letting you watch this trash?” Briggs chuckles.

“She can’t watch me every minute of the day, son.”

We all laugh, and it’s the first time since I’ve been here that Briggs looks like himself.

Just then, I feel a whoosh of air, and a man in a white coat comes walking in.

“Do I understand I have someone who would like to get tested as a donor?”

He looks like a doctor, but I’m not sure.

“Yes. Me,” Briggs says, standing up off the bed.

“And me,” I say, raising my hand.

He looks down at his chart quickly while Briggs catches my attention. He’s staring back at me, and I can’t read his expression, but I’m just happy he’s looking.

“Okay, great. Follow me,” he says, looking at both of us and then turning back toward the door and exiting. Briggs’s long legs eat up the distance as he follows the man out of the room, and I jog quickly to catch up.

“I’m Mr. Conley’s oncologist, and I don’t usually walk down donors to the labs, but since we’re in a hurry to get the results back, I’m going to walk you down personally, so they know that these results need to be expedited.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Briggs says, following closely behind.

I finally make it right up behind Briggs and look down at those big capable hands. All I want to do is slide my hand into his and feel his pulse beneath my thumb on his wrist.

I want him to know I’m here for him.

I throw caution to the wind, and my hand dives for his, intertwining our fingers.

He looks down at our hands and then back at me again, a small smile pulling up on the left side of his mouth as he tows me behind him now. He turns his head back to watch where the doctor is leading us and squeezes my hand in return.

“How long will the results take, do you think?” I ask.

“We should have it back tomorrow. It’s just a Q-tip swab on the inside of your mouth, making the expedited request relatively easy.”

When we get to the lab room, the doctor leaves us with the technician and gives clear instructions.

We both get our swab tests, neither of us letting go of the other’s hand the entire time.

After we finish our swabs, we head up to Mr. Conley’s room, still hand in hand, but he’s fast asleep. We stand there together, side-by-side, watching Mr. Conley sleep but not daring to go inside and wake him. My phone has been vibrating since I put it on silent when I got here. I pull the phone out of my pocket with my free hand to see that it’s a text from my mother.

I can feel Briggs peering over my phone and reading the text.

“My dad’s asleep. This is a good time for you to go home and see your parents. My mom says that he’s usually out for hours. It might be a while.”

“Where is your mom?” I ask. I realize I haven’t seen her yet and would feel better leaving him if she were here to keep him company.

“She had to take my grandmother to her hair appointment across town. She’ll be back in an hour.”

“That’s fine. I’ll wait with you until she gets back.”

“You don’t need to. I have hours’ worth of opposing team game reels that Coach Bex just sent me since I’m missing our team meeting. I have to watch and study them before our games next week and take notes. It’ll be good to focus without any distractions.” He smirks.

“Distractions?” I ask. My heart plummets.

I’m a distraction? I wanted to be a help. I wanted to ease his burden.

“It’s not an insult, Autumn. It’s a compliment,” he says, turning to me, letting go of my hand, and placing his hands on my arms as he spins me to face him. “I can’t think of anything but you when you’re around. Shit, I can’t think of anything else when you’re not around either.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He gives a guarded smile, probably because I said nothing after he told me he wanted to be with me. “Which is why having some time to process this alone while he’s asleep is a good thing for me. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m finally where I should have been over a year ago.”

“Instead of those clubs?”

He nods. “Instead of drinking in hopes this would just go away, but it didn’t, and I might have just lost a whole lot of time with my dad that I’ll never get back. Sitting in here while he sleeps just so I can be near him is a small thing, but it’s me taking that time back.”

I nod.

“I get it now.”

He smiles and brushes his thumb over my cheek softly.

“Thank you for coming. My mom stays the nights here with him, so I’ll leave when visiting hours are over and head for their house tonight. Then, maybe you would want to come back with me when visiting hours are open again in the morning? We could come to see him when he’s fresh, and maybe they’ll have our test results.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay.”

“Will you call me when you get home?”

“Yeah. I will,” he says, releasing my arms, and I hate the loss of his heat against my skin.

Then he moves into the room quietly.

I don’t want to leave him here, but I get what he needs. He needs time with his dad. He’s no longer on the self-destructive path he was on when I first came into the Hawkeyes fold and became his fake girlfriend.

When I get to my parents’ house, I spend the last few hours of daylight helping my mom in the backyard. It’s winter now, but in a couple of months, she’ll start planting for her spring garden in her raised beds outback.

I hate the silence of no correspondence from Briggs, but I know this time is important, and I don’t want to be the distraction that he says I am, so I do what I always do when I’m excited, nervous, bored, or need to focus and think through a problem… I bake chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.