“Is that really what you want?” she asks, her tone softening.
No.
It’s not what I fucking want at all, but it’s what has to happen. She’s too good. Tooperfect, and I don’t want her brought into the hell I know is going to greet me the second I leave her apartment and head for the hospital.
Nothing in my life—and her brother’s life—is ever going to be the same. I can’t give her the attention she deserves. Not when every time my phone rings, I’m going to wonder if it’s another one of my players calling because they’re hurt and they need me and I’m letting them down.
“It has to be.” My throat is on fire, and I hate myself. “There’s no world where this could ever be anything more than sex.”
“Okay.” Hannah lifts her chin and brushes her hair away from her face. “It’s already forgotten.”
It stings.
It shouldn’t, since I’m the one with my head up my ass andruiningthis, but it fucking hurts.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“So am I.”
There’s probably something else I should say, but it’s not about me right now. I turn down the hall, taking off in a sprint. My lungs protest. My knee aches, but I need to get to Riley. I need to get away from the hurt in her eyes so I don’t solidify myself as the meanest motherfucker to walk this planet.
There are footsteps behind me, but I don’t stop until I’m outside on the street, both hands on my thighs and holding back vomit. I should turn around. I need to look back and see if I can find her window so I can apologize, but I physically can’t. I can’t bring myself to do it, and I know I’ll hate myself from now until the end of time.
The hospital waitingroom is crowded when I get there. Not a single one of my players is talking, and it’s the quietest I’ve ever heard them. I heave a deep breath and walk up to Liam Sullivan, my goalie, who is pacing the hardwood floor.
“Hey.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m here.”
He deflates when he sees me and points to a woman sitting behind a large desk. She has a phone pressed to her ear, unintimidated by the six-foot-three goalie towering over her with a scowl. “She won’t tell us what’s going on. And my patience is about to run out,” Liam says.
I elbow him out of the way, and he doesn’t put up a fight. “Excuse me.” I lean over and press the button on the phone, ending the call the receptionist is on. “I’m Riley Mitchell’s coach. Have his parents been notified? They live out of state.”
“I was in the middle of doing that before someone decided to hang up on them,” she draws out with a pointed glare. “If you don’t get back on that side of the desk, I’m going to have security escort you out. I don’t give a hoot who you are.”
“I tried that already.” Liam glares at the woman again. She doesn’t relent. “It’s bullshit.”
“Come here.” I lead him to a corner, not arguing when Maverick joins us. I glance between them and push away the fear that’s threatening to choke me. They’re looking to me for guidance, and I need to get my shit together. I need to be strong when this is the weakest I’ve ever felt. “Tell me everything that happened.”
“Riley left the club early.” Maverick gulps down a breath. “Most of us were still celebrating, and the next thing I know, my phone’s ringing. The guy calling told me there was an accident, and Riley was being taken to the hospital.”
“Have they given any indication of what happened to him? Where he was hurt?”
“No.” Liam grunts. “Just that he lost a lot of blood, and they?—”
The doors to the emergency room open. A doctor walks out, and everyone rushes over to him.
“I’m guessing you all are here for Riley Mitchell?” he asks.
“We’re his teammates.” Maverick pushes his way to the front of the group. “Is he?—”
“He’s breathing,” the doctor tells us. “That’s the good news.”
My blood turns ice cold. No one is moving, and everyone’s attention rests on me.
I’m the one in charge. I’m the one who has to ask this next question, and my stomach drops to my feet.
“And the bad news?” I manage to get out. “Please?”
“He suffered very serious injuries to his right leg which resulted in major blood loss. Surgery to repair the leg… well, it’s impossible. We’re going to have to do a transfemoral amputation, and after, he’ll?—”
