Assuming I can pull it off.
Damn, this sucks.
“Have you heard anything else from the team?” I ask Troy.
Everyone has been super supportive, and a lot of my teammates have reached out personally, encouraging me and promising to keep winning so I’ll have lots of trophy matches to play when I’m back.
I still feel like I fucked up, though. This year was right on track, but now I’m on my ass like last season.
“Your team is fine. They’ve won two games without breaking a sweat. All your team wants,” Troy says, “is for you to do what you need to get better.”
I frown. “I’m pretty sure it’s more complicated than that. They need to replace me on the starting offense. That’s a big change. And I’ll need to get back in sync with everyone if I’m going to join them for the championships.”
Even in the haze of my injury, I still don’t let myself finish the thought. What if the team is just as good, or even better, without me messing them up?
Those are the kinds of thoughts I banished years ago. There’s no room in soccer for doubts, but they’re creeping back in. Maybe I’m too chaotic to be good enough after all.
Troy doesn’t say anything as the car very slowly turns. When we start accelerating again, he sighs. “You can’t waste time stressing, Orlando. You just have to make all those questions irrelevant by going out on the field and winning. So you know what that means?”
“I know you’re going to say rest.”
He chuckles. “Damn right. And stop worrying about that shit right now.”
Even when he rushes to my bedside, Troy can’t help but bark out some tough love. It doesn’t bother me, though. It’s reassuring.
He knows what he’s talking about, and I trust that he wouldn’t sugarcoat things for me. It’s one of the things I really appreciate about him. The blunt truth is good for me, just like I think my refusal to balk is good for him.
“Thanks again,” I murmur. “For the drive and everything.”
Troy grunts. The car lazily rolls down the road, and I drift back to sleep.
When I wake again, I pull my blindfold off and see we’re at the hotel where we’re spending the night to break up the trip. It’s a generic roadside hotel with only a gas station and a diner nearby, chosen because it’s quiet, I’m sure.
Troy returns from check-in and insists on carrying the luggage, including my soccer equipment that doesn’t need to come inside, but he still loads it up on the cart with everything else. He keeps glancing around, but it doesn’t seem like anyone recognizes either of us.
We get to the room, and when I flick on the light, I see there’s one big bed with maroon sheets.
“Two beds,” he barks out and stomps straight to the phone. “There’s supposed to be two beds.” When I throw my uninjured hand in the air, likewhat the hell?,he pulls the phone from his mouth. “I need to stay in the room and make sure you don’t have a fall, but I could roll over on you and crush your injuries if we share a bed.”
Oh hell no. He’s not tempting me with another night in the same bed only to take it away that quickly, not when I’m already reeling from so much. And especially not for such a ridiculous reason.
“Don’t call the front desk,” I say. He looks at me, and I squint as I search for an excuse. “You’re stressing me out.”
He puts the phone down, annoyed. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Just sleep in the bed with me, damn,” I say. “It’s not like it’s the first time. You can put a pillow between us if you’re so worried about squashing me.”
Troy snorts air out of his nose. He stares at me, and it feels like he’s wrestling something in himself. The hunger in his eyes lights me up, and I know sex is off the table right now, but I sure would like to stay close to his big, sturdy body tonight.
“Fine,” he finally manages and turns his attention to walking around the room, peering at the floor.
I can’t help but laugh. “What now?”
He unplugs a lamp and tosses the cord behind a chair. “I’m making sure there’s nothing you can trip over.” He sticks his head in the bathroom. “I don’t know about this shower, though.”
“Troy,” I say sharply, pulling his attention back to me. “It’s fine,” I say. “I’ll be safe in the scary hotel room, especially with you here to protect me from lamps, okay?”
His eyes get wide, and he swallows, flustered by that. “Fine,” he says, steeling his face again, and goes to the bags. “Fine. We’ll eat these sandwiches I bought. Sleep. Early start tomorrow.”
