the hook-up. {ethma}

chapter 33

emma chamberlain

ETHAN IS CLEARED to leave, and he acts like he's been sprung from jail. "Finally! Where are my clothes?"

The doctor laughs at his enthusiasm. More so when Ethan leaves his bed and hobbles toward the bathroom, the back of his hospital gown flapping in his haste and flashing his bare ass to the world. I roll my eyes while Deon snorts. He and Ethan's coach are here.

Ethan returns, dressed in baggy basketball shorts and a long-sleeved cotton shirt that hugs his lean frame. "I can't wait to get out of here."

"I'd worry about you if you enjoyed the hospital," says Coach Smith with a small smile. He's a stern man, but I can see his affection for Ethan.

All is well until a nurse arrives with a wheelchair. "Ready to go home, Mr. Dolan?"

Ethan eyes the chair as if it were a snake. "Yeah. But I'm not getting in that."

She gives him a patient smile. "Hospital regulations, I'm afraid. Even for you." There's steel in the look she pins on him, and Ethan's scowl grows because we all know he isn't going to argue with her.

"Fine." He hops down from his bed and spins into position on one leg. He doesn't look at anyone as the nurse props his feet on the footrests and gives him a friendly pat on his arm. "All set?"

"Yes." He hates being in the wheelchair. Every line in his body, his sullen glare, radiates that fact. Spitting nails mad is what my grandpa would have called Ethan's expression.

"Good. Now I just need to know that you have someone taking care of you at home for the next few days."

Ethan's chin jerks up as a dull flush washes over his cheeks. "I do not need someone taking care of me. I'm fine."

Again, the nurse uses her patient-don't-fuss-with-me smile. "And I do not want to see you back in here, Mr.Dolan. Allow yourself time to become accustomed to your crutches before you go it alone."

Ethan flushes darker, his hands curling to tight fists. His teeth flash in a grimace. I've seen that look before. Just before he blew up at me. I step in. "I'll be taking care of Ethan."

His glare cuts to me like a swinging scythe. "No."

It echoes through the air, hard and ugly. And my back grows so tense it feels as though my spine is a steel rod. "Yes, I am."

Ethan's nostrils flare. "I do not want your pity." If words were nails, I'd have been punctured.

I affect a long sigh. "All right. Deon, cross 'pity Ethan' off my To-Do list, would you?"

Deon chokes off on a smothered laugh, and Coach Smith has a sudden interest in his shoes. Ethan's eyes narrow into slits and, for a long moment, I'm sure he's going to yell, but his mouth starts twitching.

"I told you she was a smart ass," he says to Deon.

"Huh," Deon scratches the back of his head, "I could have sworn you said 'pain in the ass.'"

The nurse picks the moment to cut in. "Are we all set then?"

"I'll bring the car around," I say. Bad enough that Ethan has to be wheeled out. My watching will not sit well with him.

"Emma..."

I cut Ethan off before he can resume his anti-pity objections. "If it were me," I say, "would you do the same?"

Everyone goes quiet. If I thought things were awkward before, I was severely underestimating the concept. Because what if he says no? What if he doesn't want to be with me anymore? Does he feel anything for me?