“Nine months?” Logan said, his jaw dropping.
“Whoa, are you sure you’re going to survive, because there’d be no way in hell I would,” Carter said.
“Yep. I agree. And what happens when she’s walking around in her skimpy pajamas and you have to pretend you’re not affected, keeping a pillow over your hard-on? Will you still be fine then?” Cromwell asked.
The memory of this morning hit me with unwelcome clarity. Bianca standing in my kitchen, in those short shorts and the tank top that left little to the imagination. Watching her bend over to take those muffins out of the oven and practically being able to see the color of her hard nipples through her tank top.
“I hate you,” I muttered.
The guys looked at me and laughed.
“No, you don’t, and judging from the look on your face, you’re wrong. You’re going to lose your mind.”
Cromwell was right on both counts.
The table grew quiet as the server brought over our food, placing it down in front of us, making sure we had everything we needed before leaving. I was about to dig into the pile of wings in front of me when I noticed Carter watching me.
“How’s your shoulder?” he asked.
“Bad,” I sighed. “The pain sometimes makes me see stars, and lately it’s pretty much there all the time. I’ve been having trouble sleeping. My range of motion is decreasing, and I have been noticing a little weakness in my hand.”
The boys looked at me with concern.
“Have you been seeing Bianca about it?” Logan asked, his expression laced with concern.
“No, but she’s been watching me, and she knows something is wrong,” I said, rotating my shoulder, an action I immediately regretted. “She tried cornering me into a full evaluation, but I refused, telling her I was fine.”
“She’s living with you, which means she is going to see every wince, every careful movement, and every time you can’t lift your arm.”
“Not to mention every time you ice it,” Carter added, shoving a fry into his mouth. “You need to get that checked out before it goes from bad to career-ending.”
The thought of doctors, diagnosis, and potential surgery made my skin crawl.
“If you want, one of us will go with you, be there for support,” Cromwell added.
“No, it’s okay. I will talk to her.” I sighed.
“When? Because you have been saying that ever since the end of last season when it happened. You told us then you’d go when it got worse, and clearly, it’s getting worse,” Cromwell said.
I looked down and focused on my food, really wanting this conversation to end.
“I don’t know, but I’m working on it,” I answered.
“Evan, look at me,” Carter said.
I slowly looked up and met his eyes.
“We won’t say anything to the coach or management. That is your call to make, but you can’t keep playing with a fucked-up shoulder. You’re going to do permanent damage.”
“I know, but I can’t…” I stopped, the words getting stuck in my throat.
“You can and you will because you’re not an idiot. We get it. We know how hard this is for you,” Logan said.
“Especially after watching what happened with your dad,” Cromwell added.
They knew. They all knew the truth thanks to the night after that game with one too many beers. The boys had listened without judgement about what happened to my father, the devastation it had on his marriage and on my childhood. Not one of them tried to come up with a solution for me. They’d just been there to listen. Just like now.
“I think Bianca could help if you let her,” Carter said.
