I snort out a laugh. “Greg, I should tell you, my boyfriend won’t like you asking me to take my pants off. He’s very protective of me.”
He laughs too. “I’ll keep that in mind and be on my best behavior.”
I drop my arms back to my sides at the sound of the bag zipper being opened, and he retrieves the stack of cards.
We go through the baseline test first, and then he does the pen light check again on my eyes.
“There’s no damage on the mask,” Erik says, and Greg gives a pleased nod.
“That’s good. I’m pretty sure you don’t have a concussion, but we can’t skip on these tests. I’d like to do another in the morning as well.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “I don’t wanna risk having a broken brain like Zach.”
Although mine is broken for a whole other reason, but I don’t say that.
He grabs a bottle of water from the mini fridge and hands me two anti-inflammatory capsules. I swallow them down, then take off my bottom base layer until I’m sitting in my boxers. He assesses my knee, and I let out a string of curses as he pokes and prods around the joint that’s already starting to swell.
“Did you drive here tonight?” Greg asks.
“No, I came with Blaine.”
“Okay, good. I’m going to get you booked in for an MRI tomorrow morning. I don’t think it’s a tear, but we can’t know for sure until I see the images. I’m hopeful it’s a minor sprain at most,” he says, then retrieves an ice pack from the freezer.
“So, I’ll be out for, like, two weeks?” I ask, hopeful.
“Yeah. Four at most.” He applies the ice pack to my knee, and I let out a sharp hiss, shivering from the icy chill seeping through the fabric covering.
“Fucking hell, it’s cold.”
“I’d hope so.” He grins. “You can stay there for as long as you need. Leave that on for twenty minutes or so, and we’ll check on the swelling.”
Lying back on the table, I chat away to Greg and Erik while they get prepared for the intermission rush. When the buzzer signals the end of the period, it becomes a flurry of activity. Peyton comes in for Greg to retape his ankle. Erik works on Zach’s shoulder.
I close my eyes and take a few focused breaths while I listen to the conversations happening around me. I’m beginning to relax until Blaine blows into the room like a tornado.
“Are you okay?” he asks. There’s a bruise already forming under his lip where it’s split.
“I’m fine. Possible sprain, but we won’t know until I’ve had a scan,” I say, then motion to the ice pack on my knee. “Want this for your face? Alex is going to kill you.”
He grimaces, then winces as it must sting his lip. “I know. Two fights in one night, and we’ve still got another twenty minutes to go. He’s not going to be happy with me.”
“Can I have another ice pack?” I ask Greg over my shoulder.
Greg heads to the freezer and tosses me an ice pack. Then I throw it at Blaine’s face. It bounces off his forehead and drops onto the ground.
“What the fuck was that for?” he grumbles, rubbing his forehead before bending down to pick up the ice pack.
“Your face. You’ll thank me later when your husband still loves your ugly ass.”
He holds the pack to his lip and gives me the middle finger.
“Elliot?” Jordan, our equipment manager, calls out. She peeks her head around the corner and knocks her knuckles on the doorframe. “There’s someone here to see you. He’s very adamant he sees you too.”
Hunter.
Shit. He’s going to be so worried.
“Send him in,” I reply, then return my gaze to Blaine. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I need you to keep your head in the game and don’t let them win.”
