Alpha Male Romance(119)

When the elevator doors closed, leaving us alone, I squeezed his hand. “How're you doing?”

He looked down at me and managed a smile that almost looked like a grimace. “I'm okay.”

He reached over with his free hand and brushed back some hair that had escaped from my ponytail. I almost leaned into his touch, but then the doors opened and we were on my parents' floor.

I waved to the nurses as I passed their station, and most waved in return. I didn't know any of them very well, but there were a couple I recognized. A few gave X second looks, but no one said anything. That wasn't surprising. X's injuries were far from the worst we'd seen. When we reached my parents' room, I stopped, something occurring to me that hadn't before.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, half-teasing. “Meeting the parents is a big step.”

He laughed quietly, and some of the tension in us both eased. “I think I can handle it if you can.”

Shit. X and I hadn't really even defined our relationship, and I was seconds away from introducing him to my parents. I didn't know what to call him.

“Breathe.” He kissed the top of my head. “No pressure, remember. You can just tell them that I'm the guy you moved across the country for.”

I laughed, and when I looked up, I saw a real smile on X's face. His expression was still strained, and I knew he was fighting his own battle, but he still smiled at me. He let go of my hand, moving his to the small of my back. His touch helped calm me, and together, we walked into my parents' room.

Both of them were awake, and, surprisingly, not fighting. Mom beamed when she saw me, and Dad actually smiled.

“It's good to see you, sweetheart,” Mom said.

“How're you feeling?” I asked as I came further into the room. X followed, his hand still on my back.

“Hurts like the dickens,” she said with a laugh that made her wince. “But they've given me some painkillers that take the edge off.”

“She won't take anything stronger,” Dad grumbled. “She's as stubborn as you are.”

I raised my eyebrows as I looked at him. “Well, I suppose that means I get it from both sides, because you're not exactly the most compliant person in the world.”

“Why don't you introduce us to your friend?” Mom said, ever the peacemaker.

“Mom, Dad, this is X.”

“Xavier Hammond,” he said, stepping out with his hand extended. “But I go by X.”

Mom shook his hand, her sharp eyes taking in everything. “You're the soldier from Philadelphia.”

X nodded. “Former soldier, ma'am, but yes. I'm from Philadelphia.” He turned to my father and took the hand with the splints, giving it a careful shake. “It's a pleasure to meet you both.”

“So polite.” Mom looked at me and I could see the question in her eyes.

I avoided the subject. “Have any of the doctors been in to see you?”

“One,” Dad said. “He said he needed to talk to you, but that we could get out of here today.” He scowled. “Not sure why he wants to talk to you. We're perfectly capable of making our own decisions.”

I didn't tell him it was because I told the doctor last night that getting either of my parents to agree to physical therapy was going to be tricky. They were so damn independent, always determined to do things the hard way.

“Xavier.” Mom changed the subject. “Were you the young man on the news who saved that boy from a warehouse fire?”

I tensed, glancing over at him, but he didn't even hesitate.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Let me ask you the real question,” Dad said.

Oh shit. I really hoped this wasn't going where I thought it was going.

“Are you a damn Eagles fan?”

X laughed, and I relaxed. Since my parents hadn't asked about his scars and weren't staring at them, he seemed okay. They asked about his past, but didn't press when he gave general answers rather than specifics, and he became more and more at ease with their conversation.

I'd appreciated his coming with me for the strength he offered, but I hadn't stopped to consider the distraction. While he talked to my parents, I could mentally prepare for my upcoming discussion with both the doctor and them. I'd purposefully waited to think too much on this, but I knew if the doctor gave me the report I was pretty sure he was going to, I would need to have an uncomfortable discussion with these two.

Twenty minutes later, and it was time to have that talk. Dr. Finnes had confirmed what I'd already known. My parents wouldn't be able to care for themselves completely for at least a month, depending on how quickly my dad's shoulder healed, which meant probably closer to two months. And even after that, it would be slow going. They were going to need physical therapy for a while, especially my mom. They wouldn't be able to cook or clean. Mom definitely wouldn't be able to shower. Getting dressed would be hard for both of them. And work was out of the question for at least a few weeks. Dad would be covered by sick days and vacation days, but I wasn't sure if Mom would even have a job to get back to.