Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

bit better today, Mr. Jenkins." The man's lips curled up at the corners, pursed together in the center in a wrestling match between the smile he was clearly fighting and his readily apparent professionalism. "I'm Doctor Mathias, the attending physician. If you'll let me get a quick look at your eyes to check your pupillary response to light—" Tater grunted at this point, and the doctor turned to him with one brow raised in enquiry. "…to check and see if your concussion is better. I'm afraid you've most likely torn your hamstring, and while we could keep you in the hospital until we get an MRI on it, I think you'd be better served by going home today. You can always come back as an outpatient to have the MRI done."
    Peter's blush, brought about by his outspokenness earlier, had eased enough to cease causing his face to feel like it was on fire. He cleared his throat experimentally, and opened his mouth, hoping that this time the words coming out would jive with what his brain signed off on. "I— am I gonna be able to play ball again, doc?"
    Whew.
    That came out exactly as he intended. Peter breathed out a huge sigh of relief. He had wondered what he'd do if his words came out all garbled again, but fortunately that concern was moot.
    The doctor raised a hand, running it distractedly thorough his thick, chestnut colored hair. "I can't say, Mr. Jenkins. There's a good possibility that you'll heal with no residual effects, but an orthopedist would be better able to tell you how long the recovery will take, and what sort of long effects your injury may or may not have." Tater grunted again, and this time both the doctor and Peter turned to him.
    "Tater, you'd best just spit out whatever you've got stuck in your craw. I know you're just gonna keep making those noises until you do." Peter rolled his eyes and gestured with his hand for his cousin to get on with it.
    Tater looked up at Peter from his seat beside the bed, his eyes troubled. He waved a hand back at Peter as he turned his eyes back to the doctor. "The thing is Peter here is on a football scholarship. If he ain't gonna get better, we kinda need to know so's we can figure how to keep him in school. Me and Rufus don't mind waiting a coupla more years to get started in school, but we really need to know if'n we need to get full time jobs or if'n we can jest keep the part time ones we got."
    Peter's lungs and heart got tangled up with each other again, and neither one wanted to work right, bumping and grinding against each other like a couple of young lovers at a nightclub. He sucked in a couple of shallow breaths, determined to have his voice steady before he spoke. He wasn't sure how he'd ever got so blessed to have the family he had, but damned if they didn't bring him right to the point of tears.
    "I ain't on football scholarship no more, Tater. I did so good last year in my classes they offered me an academic scholarship that covered more than the football one did. One of the last things my pa did was talk me into switching up who was paying my way." Peter pushed the words out at a steady clip, unsure if he'd be able to maintain the even tenor of his voice. Holy god, it just tore him up to think of what his cousins had and would give up in the process of making sure he could get through school. He puffed up his chest a little. "You make me right proud to be a Jenkins, though. Right proud."
    Tater ducked his head, grunting again. He looked back up like he was fixing to say something, but right at that moment Rufus's deep voice sounded in the hallway, and there in the doorway was Hinata, dressed in a tight pair of black slacks with a loose, flowing white shirt like something a pirate would wear. Peter licked his suddenly dry lips. Oh. Well, the question of whether he wanted to run away from Hinata or toward him was answered. At the sight of the other young man's stunning face and gentle eyes all the baby snakes in Peter's stomach slithered down toward his groin, turning to creatures comprised entirely of flame.
    "Butterfly…" Peter's mouth was moving before his brain finished processing the tidal wave of feeling flooding though his chest. Everything around him faded to nothing, only Hinata's startled face remaining clear, and steady. Peter heard the raw depth of longing in his own voice. He flinched. "I— don't be scared. I swear I'm not crazy. I know your name's Hinata. I just always called you Butterfly in my head, ever since that first time I saw