Page 52 of The Goalie in Room 1

“Do you play nursemaid to all your patients?”

He cocked a brow. “What do you think?”

My lips rolled into my mouth, but that didn’t keep the smile from tugging on the corners. I bit down on them. Hard.

“We do have an issue,” he said.

“Nope. Not listening to issues and shit. Not after I just got made to feel as special as a four-game shutout to clinch a playoff spot.”

He laughed. “That’s oddly specific, and it’s not too much of an issue, since I have a solution already, but you’re a grown man, and I don’t make your decisions for you…”

The “yet” echoed in the room as loudly as a home team crowed after beating their division rivals, but I let it fall flat between us and said, “What’s up, Doc?”

“Like every doctor on the face of the planet hasn’t heard that joke.”

“What joke?”

His head jerked back as he stared at me. His mouth turned into a gaping hole that beckoned flies, and I lost it. “Oh my God, the look on your face!”

“You little shit! I thought⁠—”

“Oh, I know what you thought. But seriously, Doc, I’m not that young or that concussed. Everyone knows Bugs.”

He mumbled and dragged his hand over his face and head before swearing under his breath. “You’re a troublemaker.”

A smirk pulled one side of my face in, and I said, “Yep,” popping the P. “Now, what’s the issue?”

“You’re-gonna-stay-with-me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re going to stay with me,” he repeated, his voice too low for me to comprehend what he said.

His face gave nothing away. He stared straight at me as if he’d said something he expected me to understand. “One more time.”

“Fuck,” he growled. “You’re staying with me.”

“Um…why?”

“Because when they were moving your things, they found water damage in the downstairs room they were turning into a bedroom for you. The water heater has been leaking, and it’s caused a lot of damage, and there’s no way you⁠—”

“Doc! Damn, take a breath.” I interrupted him so I could wrap my head around his breathless monologue. “So the downstairs room being unavailable sucks, but…”

His face did some weird incredulous shit, and he said, “If you’re about to say you’ll just sleep upstairs, my response before you even utter those words is: are you fucking insane? You cannot risk that knee by navigating those damn stairs multiple times a day.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face while I tried to figure out what the fuck options I had. Because he was fucking right. I couldn’t take the chance. “I’ll just get a hotel room…”

“Cash, this is what patrons do. They step in⁠—”

“How’s this supposed to work, Thad? The lines are blurred so much.”

“I know they are, but you need a place to stay, and I have plenty of room. Besides, it will work out better for you. The house is open concept. You’ll have your own bathroom…”

My head bounced off the hard-ass pillow a couple of times as I growled. I had no options. I either chanced hurting myself or I dug the hole of what I owed this man even deeper. He swore I didn’t owe him, but⁠—

“Dammit! When the hell is life going to find someone else to fuck with?” I asked, eyes cast to the ceiling to keep the tears making my nose burn at bay.

Thad’s hand grabbed mine. “Cash, look at me,” he demanded.