“Good boy.” She pats my cheek with just enough condescension to make Fallon snort.
“I like her,” the trainer announces. “She can come back anytime.”
“Great,” I grumble, accepting my captain’s offered shoulder to stand. “Thrilled you’re all bonding over my pain.”
“Could be worse,” Cole says cheerfully as he supports my weight and leads me to the door. “At least your dick’s working.”
Asshole.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
cameron
I couldn’t have beenin the bathroom for more than thirty minutes, but in that time, my hotel room transformed from a standard suite into a melting pot of takeout containers.
A shot of pain radiates through me as I pull up short and survey the scene.
What the fuck?
“I didn’t know what you wanted,” Kennedy tells me without looking up from the TV where an episode ofSurvivoris playing. “The burger bun isn’t gluten-free, but you can eat everything else.”
She’s perched on the right side of the bed, wearing a shirt that I distinctly remember packing inmysuitcase.
“You’re wearing my shirt.”
She laughs, the sound bright. “I wanted to see if you wrote a matching note for me to find in your suitcase. I didn’t see one, but I did find a new shirt for my closet, so I consider it a win.”
I shake my head, chuckling. I figured if she’d found it, she would have brought up my snooping memo right away, so Iassumed she hadn’t. Apparently, I was wrong. “Keep it up and I won’t have any shirts left to wear.”
“That’s the plan.” She winks at me. “Now, come eat. You haven’t had anything since the game ended.”
“I had to shower.”
The shower wasn’t a shower at all, but itwasa fucking ordeal. The heat from the water will make the bruising worse, so I spent twenty minutes awkwardly contorting myself next to the bathtub with a washcloth and soap, trying to get clean while maintaining a little dignity.
Each step I take toward the bed sends a dull throb through my thigh, the discomfort far better now that the painkillers have kicked in. I ease myself down next to Kennedy, snag a piece of pizza off her plate, and scarf it down quickly.
It’s a simple move, but not one I take for granted. I’ve never been able to steal food off anyone’s plate like this, but as she always does, Kennedy made sure everything (but the burger bun) was safe for me to eat.
It means way more than she probably realizes.
“Let me see your leg,” she demands, trying to come off as sweet but just as sassy as always.
“It’s already wrapped.”
She raises a brow. “I know this is wild, but thereissuch a thing as unwrapping and redoing it.”
“Oh, really?” I ask, matching her sarcasm, even as amusement courses through me.
“Mm-hmm. It’s all the rage with Gen Z.”
I huff out a laugh and lean back against the pillows, resting my arm behind my head. “I’m fine. I don’t need you to baby me.”
She shrugs, her head held high, completely unrepentant as she finishes the last bite of her pizza. “If you don’t want to be babied, then maybe don’t get hurt.”
I scoff. “I didn’t purposefully take a puck to the thigh, sweetheart.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “No, but you purposefully continued playing after you got hurt.”
