“Go back out there and win this thing. Tell the team no retaliation.”
“You have a concussion. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Come on, Caveman. We don’t play dirty. Don’t sink to their level.”
He hummed, a deep frown creasing his brow, but I knew he’d listen. As soon as we got to the medical suite, he peeled off and headed back to the locker room while I was poked and prodded.
Concussion was the diagnosis.
“You’re out for the next three games, then we’ll review. Rest for the next twenty-four hours, then light exercise until you see me. Any concerns, call me immediately,” Dr. Preston said, leaning against the bed with his arms folded. “No, we’re not compromising. No, there’s nothing you can do to speed up the process except rest. Needless to say, you aren’t going back out there tonight, so get comfortable. If you want a shower, it has to be lukewarm and make sure someone is there in case you lose consciousness again.”
I grumbled at the instructions, hating that he was so seasoned he didn’t even pretend to let me argue the facts.
“There’s a very concerned social media manager outside the door. I’ll leave you with her while I restock the Tylenol.”
He ducked out, murmuring to a pale-faced Blair who barely acknowledged him.
“Holy shit, I thought you were dead.” Her voice wavered as she rushed into my arms, body shaking as I held her tightly.
“I’m fine.”
She pulled back and pinned me with a hard look. “You’re not fine. You lost consciousness. God, you hit the boards and just flopped like a rag doll.”
Her eyes shone behind her glasses. I tried to pull her in again, and she punched me in the arm.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again!”
“I’ll try.”
She snuggled back into me, apparently forgiving me for my thoughtless actions.
Her warm body distracted me from the dull thud in my skull, and I breathed a heavy sigh, relaxing into the contact.
She always made me feel better.
“We should call your parents and let them know you’re all right,” she said after a while.
“I don’t think they’ll care,” I said. At her look, I shrugged. “Go ahead, though.”
I recited the number and she put the phone on speaker as it rang.
“Hello?” No matter what my mom was saying, she always sounded rushed to my ears. As though she couldn’t stand to spend time on things she considered beneath her.
“Hello, Mrs. O’Leary?”
“Who’s this?”
“My name’s Blair, I work with the Aces. I wanted to get in touch in case you were watching the game tonight. I have Cian here, and I just wanted to let you know that he’s okay.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Blair tilted the phone to check the call was still connected, but after a moment, my mother spoke, sounding harried.
“Look, I don’t know why you’re calling us. Cian can get himself out of whatever he’s done. The boy was always needy, but he’s an adult now and we have more important things going on here. Please don’t call again.”
Blair stared in shock as the call dropped. Shame burned through me. I didn’t want her to know about this side of me.
Deep down, I was still the kid who wanted his parents to care, but reality was what it was, and I had managed to keep myself alive this long. It was only when I’d started this thing with Blair that I realized just how much I needed someone there. I’d overcompensated for a lot of years by being that person for everyone else, but Oscar and Mia had been my only support system for a long time.
Now I had Blair.
