And for once, he didn’t argue.
Because even if I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore…
I knew I wasn’t done yet. Not while she was still out there calling me a washed-up god.
Not while I still cared enough to prove her wrong.
I left the meeting with a jaw so tight I could’ve cracked my molars.
Smile more. Engage. Let the reporter who just roasted me on national television follow me around with a mic and a latte.
Great.
I shoved the door open with more force than necessary and stalked across the back hallway toward the pitch. I needed air. I needed to move. I needed?—
“Shit—ow! Ow, ow?—!”
I slowed instinctively at the sound, peering around the edge of the tunnel.
Out on the far side of the field, rookie midfielder Leo Santos was half-hopping, half-hunched, face twisted in pain. His ankle was already starting to swell, sock bunched awkwardly around it. Practice cones scattered like confetti around him.
The rest of the squad jogged past, a couple tossing quick glances, but no one stopped. They were rookies too. Hungry. Focused. Afraid to miss a rep.
I sighed through my nose and walked toward him.
Leo looked up in surprise. “Uh—Walker—sir—I’m good. Really.”
“You’re limping like a shot duck.”
“I just landed weird. It’s fine.”
I didn’t answer. Just veered into the med cart nearby, grabbed a wrap and a small pack of ice, then dropped to one knee beside him.
“Elevate it,” I said. “Don’t argue.”
He did what he was told, and I pressed the ice gently against the ankle, fingers efficient from muscle memory. Years of taping teammates, years of doing it myself.
“You’re jumping too flat-footed,” I muttered. “All that torque’s useless if you land like a giraffe in roller skates.”
Leo snorted, wincing. “I’ll add that to my vision board.”
I finished wrapping, securing the pack in place.
“Keep off it tonight. Rest. Ice again before bed.”
Leo blinked. “Thanks, man.”
I shrugged. “Stop landing like a giraffe and maybe I won’t have to babysit you.”
He grinned through the pain. “You know, you’re not as much of a dick as people say.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t spread that around. I’ve got a brand to maintain.”
He laughed.
I stood, brushing off my hands, and gave the back of his head a light smack on the way up. Nothing dramatic. Nothing anyone else would really notice.
But Leo looked at me like I’d just handed him a medal.
