Page 132 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Auston told him, wishing with every little drop of his soul that Charlie was close enough to touch. “Wanna flip you on your stomach and spank your ass red, honey.”

Charlie made a high, choked noise. “Please, Daddy. I…you could do anything. I’d let you do anything.”

Aston groaned. What was he supposed to do with promises like that?

How was he supposed to keep holding off from begging Charlie to meet him in person?

The moment was so close, he could taste it.

Chapter Thirteen

AUSTON

Auston lay on the padded table in one of the medic rooms, trying not to let an Alpha growl out. What a fucking shit show of a game. They’d not just lost, but gotten absolutely brutalised out there. Three fucking injuries on their side, including Auston being slammed into the boards at a weird angle and tweaking his hip.

He closed his eyes, eyelids orange from the fluorescent lights. This had better just be a tweak. He didn’t know what he’d do if the last season of his career ended early due to an injury.

He just wanted to make it to the finish line on two feet. Live in the illusion that he was leaving by choice, not necessity.

He flinched as the door opened, turning as the team doctor, Sal, entered.

“How are you feeling?” Sal asked.

“You tell me,” Auston grunted.

“Well, we think it’s just a strain. We’re going to send you to the hospital for imaging, but I don’t think it’s too serious.”

Relief washed through him, leaving him jittery with the aftermath of adrenaline. “Shit, okay. That’s good.”

“The paramedics are gonna be here in a sec. They had to take Chase first.”

“Oh, right. How’s the kid doing?” Auston asked. Chase had taken an elbow to the head ten minutes before Auston was escorted off the ice. Had hit the ice hard when he’d gone down.

“Definitely a concussion. We just want to make sure there’s no bleeding.”

“Shit. Okay, no problem. I can wait.”

It had been an evening game at home, so by the time Auston was taken to the hospital, gotten checked out, and given the all-clear that nothing was cracked or broken, it was nearing two in the morning.

One of the team medics helped him into a wheelchair. They already had crutches for him thanks to his measurements being on file, but the wheelchair was protocol.

To his surprise, Noah was waiting outside, suit dishevelled and hair all over the place. “Hey, man. How you feeling?”

“Fine. Just strained something. I’ll be good to go in a couple of games.”

“Yeah, about that. Chase has a concussion, don’t know if you’ve heard.”

“Yeah, the doc told me,” Auston replied, unsure why that was relevant.

“Well, we’re off for the road trip tomorrow, and he lives alone…”

Auston managed not to sigh. Concussion protocol dictated the person be accompanied for the next few days, and since Auston was staying in New Orleans due to his hip, he was probably the only one available to avoid having the kid stay in the hospital. “Yeah, sure. He can come home with me. He got stuff with him?”

Noah smiled, looking insultingly relieved. Auston knew he hadn’t been the nicest to Chase, but he wasn’t about to leave a teammate hanging like that. “Sammy went and got some stuff. He’ll meet us at yours. I can drive you and Chase there.”

“Sounds good,” he muttered. Thank fuck he lived in an apartment with an elevator and plenty of guest rooms.

Chase was in the car when they got there, curled up against the window with his eyes closed, sick bag in his hand in case he hurled. Auston slid into the back seat too, ready to be vigilant in case anything happened.