The sound of loud voices and cleats on the pavement came through the doorway. It must be halftime.
“I’ll go get Coach Reggie.” Coach Liam patted my shoulder before he left, leaving one medic with me.
I closed my eyes, trying not to spiral at the fact I was out for the next two weeks, at a minimum. The idea of it being longer almost felt worse than my ribs. Without football, what was I going to do?
I focused on the cold, afraid that breathing too deep would make things worse. The hum of the fluorescent lights above filled my head. The sound of voices outside blurred together for a second before one stuck out.
“WHERE IS HE? IF YOU DON’T LET ME THROUGH I SWEAR TO GOD?—”
That voice. I’d know it anywhere.
I frowned, trying to sit up. “Emmie?”
37
MATEO
“Emmie?”
“Mateo!”
The medic standing at the door was all but shoved aside as a familiar redhead barged her way in. I struggled to sit up as Emmie barreled her way closer.
“Oh god. Are you okay? Is something broken? Do you need a hospital? Where is the doctor?” The words flew from her mouth as her hands hovered over my bare chest. Her green eyes were frantic, face pale and taut.
I struggled to comprehend that she was here. Did those pain meds have some sort of hallucinogen, or did I have a brain bleed?
“Em?” Her eyes finally met mine, glossy like she could cry at any moment. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw what happened. Are you okay?”
When she glanced at the ice strapped around me, a giant bruise already forming, she winced.
“Just a few bruised ribs.”
She saw it? That meant she was watching.
“I tried to get here sooner but the traffic was insane, and then the idiots at the front wouldn’t let me in. Thank god I had my pass with me,” Emmie rambled. I was torn between being happy she was here and upset that she showed up now after not speaking to me for a week.
Before I could say anything, Coach stepped through the door. The only indication he was surprised to see Emmie was a raised eyebrow.
Emmie moved around to my other side, arm reached out like she was going to grab my hand, but at the last second, she brought it back to her side.
“So, the doc tells me its bruised ribs,” Coach said.
“Seems like it.” I shifted, grunting a little.
“Well, your main focus is to rest and heal. Johnny will be taking over as starting quarterback the rest of this game and next. After the bye week, we can reevaluate.”
“And Jennings?”
“A meeting with the owner is set for tomorrow. If I have anything to do with it, he’ll never step foot in my locker room again.” Coach’s tone was low, but the anger beneath it was unmistakable.
“Good.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Emmie look back and forth between us, confused and out of the loop.
“The team is about to head out for the third quarter, change and then go home,” he instructed. “The press has been ordered to stay away from the back lot.”
“I can stay—” I started to say, but he cut me off.
