Must focus like it’s my fucking life.
I jab at the puck in the fray, snagging it once more when Long Neck John slams into my shoulder. The hit sends me barreling right into the boards, my torso smashing against them. It’s like a car rear-ended me. My teeth clench, my bones rattle, and my ribs scream as I wipe out, stumbling backward onto the ice.
I can barely catch my breath. Pain lances through me. My abdomen is on fire. I try to breathe, but I can’t. She’s out there though. Mere feet away in the stands. I can’t get distracted by her again. Or by thoughts of her. And I don’t want her to see me like this.Hurt.
I glance at the action—Bryant’s wrestled the puck from Long Neck John, so I scramble, getting back on my skates and racing after them…even though everything screams inside me. My ribs feel like they’re poking through my goddamn abdomen. They’re shouting at me, but I ignore the noise, chasing Vancouver, chasing the puck, chasing anything until Vancouver scores. I curse as I try to hop over the boards.
“You okay, man?” Tyler asks.
I nod. “Yeah,” I grit out as I make it over, more gingerly than usual.
“You sure?” he asks again.
I grit my teeth as another sharp, stinging wave radiates through my abs. Is that Commitment? Or Discipline? I don’t even know. Everything is a painful blur. I lower my face. I don’t want Skylar to worry. I can’t have her thinking I’m failing—then she’ll replace me.
You’re failing because of her.
I really need my thoughts to shut the hell up. I try to clear my head. To extradite all these irritating ideas racing through my mind.
A hand lands on my shoulder. “Hey, buddy, we need to check you out.”
It’s the team medic.
“I’m fine,” I say, waving her off.
“No, you’re not.”
“I am,” I say, then raise my face. “Score’s tied. I’m fine.”
“We need to check you out,” she says, more forceful this time.
Leaving now feels like giving up. I don’t give up. I’m a grinder. I fight it out till the bitter end.
But one more shooting pain—one I can’t fight—and I give in, leaving the game. I don’t look Skylar’s way as I go.
“I’m fine,” I insist, agitated. The clock is ticking. I need to get back out there with my team. “I’m really okay.”
In the athletic trainer’s room, Doctor Booker gives mea funny look. I’m on the exam table in my shorts, my jersey and my lucky—no, unlucky—T-shirt off.
She’s a no-nonsense woman with short, coiled hair and light brown skin. “You’re not fine, Devon.”
“I am,” I say, but I hiss in a breath. Damn, breathing hurts.
“I’m giving you ibuprofen. You’re going to go home. You’re going to rest and not do anything to aggravate the pain. You’ll ice it tonight,” she says.
“Fine,” I grumble. “But tomorrow I can work out.”
She laughs, and it’s a very doubtful sound. I don’t like it one bit. “No, you’re going to rest. Tomorrow too.”
Fine. We don’t have a game tomorrow, so that’s not a problem. But we do have a game in two days. She hasn’t said anything about that, so I might as well let her know I plan to be in the lineup. “I’ll be ready to play against Montreal.”
She sighs heavily and crosses her arms. “You need at least a week’s worth of rest. Your ribs are bruised. They need time to heal. You’re going to apply ice packs to the injured area for ten to twenty minutes at a time, several times a day. It’ll help reduce the swelling. You’re going to take some over-the-counter pain medication. And if you feel like you’re going to cough, hold a pillow against your ribs. It will lessen the pain.”
But all I can hear isat least a week. Andat least a weekcan turn into two. I haven’t been injured in years. I played every single game last year, and the year before. I’m the healthiest guy on the team. That’s—no.No. “That just doesn’t work,” I say, digging my heels in.
“You’ll be back on the ice soon,” she says. “It’ll go by before you know it. Do you have anyone who can drive you home tonight?”
I drag a hand down my face. Close my eyes. I hate asking for help. I don’t want to. My team is going to go on without me, and I’m going to go home because…I didn’t pay attention on the ice. My mind was hanging out in my heart, and I was thinking of a woman.
