The other physical therapists and I are the ones who help post-injury to get them back to where they were before. But occasionally, we fill in for one another when needed.
“What happened?” Morgan unfolds a throw blanket over her lap.
Starting with some backstory, I tell her about our childhood together and how we, including Luca, were all best friends for years before I went off to college. She’s so easy to talk to that I even find myself opening up about Carly, which takes me by surprise. She reciprocates, opening up about her ex and what Cam and she went through to get to where they are today.
I fill her in on every detail about last night—from the McDonald’s run, to the emotional breakdown, to the almost kiss. I tell her all of it, feeling even more horrified about making a move on Jensen when I finish.
She bites her top lip, trying to decide what to say, and I don’t blame her hesitancy—it’s a lot to digest.
“Okay, but he didn’t turn you down because he didn’t want to. That’s good! He was probably just being nice-guy Jensen and didn’t want to feel like he was taking advantage of you.”
I drop my face into my hands, recalling the words that have been replaying in my mind since he spoke them.
“Don’t think for a second that I don’t want to kiss you absolutely senseless. I’ve been thinking about it my entire life. But we’re not doing that tonight. Not until you’re certain, without a shred of doubt, that I’m the last person you want to ever touch you.”
“Yeah, I suppose. It’s just weird between us now, and it’s never been like that before. I don’t know how to handle it.” I groan, peeling my hands away and taking a sip of my coffee.
“I don’t know Jensen that well, just from brief interactions and what Cam has mentioned, but I do know that of all the nights after games that I’ve spent at The Penalty Box with the boys, I’ve never seen him look at someone like that. It’s like a whole other side of him exists, just for you.”
My eyes burn at her beautiful words. That’s so sweet, and I would love for it to be true.
My stomach suddenly churns, and a sickening sensation hits me out of nowhere like a train.
“Excuse me,” I mutter, dropping my coffee to the table as I get up and beeline it for the bathroom, just in time to pull my hair back and throw up into the toilet.
My body heaves, the doughnut and coffee all coming back up. I’m shaking a little bit when that feeling in my gut finally settles.
“Lainey?” Morgan asks, concerned, slowly approaching the bathroom.
Flushing the toilet and grabbing a towel to dab my mouth, I toss it into the laundry before straightening up and facing her. “God, that came out of nowhere.”
“Are you okay?” she asks, her brows furrowed.
Walking over to the counter, I grab my toothbrush and toothpaste, desperate to get the taste out of my mouth. “Yeah. My stomach just must not have liked the alcohol. It’s been a while since I last drank, so maybe it was that?”
“Feeling better?” she asks.
I nod as I brush my teeth, welcoming the minty freshness. I spit and clear my throat. “Yeah. Maybe a little nauseous, but nothing debilitating.”
“Okay. Well, that’s good.” Her voice is warm, but there’s still a look of concern in her eyes, making my stomach feel a twist in a whole new way.
I can tell there’s more she wants to say or ask, but probably isn’t comfortable, given how long we’ve known one another.
“Oh, out with it,” I encourage her with a smile as I lead us back to the living room, settling into the couch again under our blankets.
She taps her fingers on her cup. “Did you drink a lot more after those shots?”
I shake my head, and it’s like her thoughts slam into me, knowing where she’s going with this, and I hate that I haven’t even thought of it.
Truthfully, the thought of being pregnant right now is horrifying for many reasons, but the biggest one is that there’s only one man who could be the father, and I never wanted to have to deal with him again.
“It’s probably just a stomach bug or something. I’ve felt kind of off all day,” I murmur, my gaze staying locked on my cup.
“Yeah, for sure.” She pauses. “But on the chance it’s not and you want some support foranything, call me, okay?”
I smile, finally meeting her warm stare. “I will.”
I won’t, but at no fault of her own.
