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But they’re laughing more. Rolondo comes forward and slaps my shoulder. Hard. “You all right, man?” He winces. “Aside from your busted-up leg.”
We eyeball each other for a beat then both laugh. It isn’t a full one but enough for now.
“Yeah. Other than my busted-up leg. And stinking of hospital.”
“That nursemaid of yours can’t hurt,” Dex says with a smile.
Someone coughs, “Scarlett.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m not touching that one.
Dex’s smile fades. “We kicked their ass, Drew.”
“For you, man,” adds Simms. Cool rage simmers in his eyes, and in the eyes of my guys as I look around. For a brief moment, I almost feel sorry for the players they must have pummeled. But then I remember why, and a tight pain twists my gut. I don’t want to be the team’s Gipper.
“Motherfuckers had it coming,” says Marshall. A louder grumble runs through the room.
“We in the playoffs, then?” I manage to ask.
No one looks at me then. “Yeah.”
Without me. They didn’t need me after all. Is it petty that it feels like a kick to the gut? Yeah. But I say what they need to hear.
Taking a deep breath, I force the words to come out with conviction, to face each and every one of their eyes. “And you’re gonna kick ass.”
A sound of agreement goes through the room, but it’s half-hearted at best.
Thank God, or whoever is listening to my pleas, that the nurse weaves through the crowd and starts to shoo them out. And they go. Having been on the other side of these sorts of visits, I know how badly they want to escape. I want to follow them.
One after another, they come forward, give me a pat on the arm or the shoulder with a murmured, “Get better,” or some equivalent. And each time, it feels like another nail in my coffin. By the time it’s just Gray, I want to be alone so badly, I’m sweating. Scratch that, I want Anna. I want to get lost in her warm scent, her syrup-sweet voice, or just her smooth skin.
But Gray lingers. He frowns, opens his mouth, closes it, and then tries again. “We won because our defense shut them down. We didn’t score another fucking point. Our offensive productivity went to hell when you were taken out.”
My throat closes, and I study the waffle weave of my thin hospital blanket.
“You’re one of the greats, Drew. Don’t you forget it.”
“Was,” I mutter.
He takes a step closer, getting into my field of vision. “Are.” His expression is fierce. “You aren’t done yet.”
Anna walks in but halts, her gaze going to me and then Gray, and she hovers, clearly worried she’s interrupted something. Gray glances at her but then looks back at me. Moving faster than I expect, he reaches out and musses my hair, giving my head a little shove at the end.
“Love you, you thickheaded bastard.” Gray’s voice is uneven, and I realize then how freaked out he’s been. I would have been too, had I seen his leg broken like a twig.
“Same here,” I say, something stuck in my throat.
He backs out quickly, giving Anna a small smile. “Take care of our boy. See you tomorrow, Drew.”
Tomorrow. When I’ll finally break free of this place. Even though I’m counting the seconds, a wave of black panic washes around the edges of my vision.
Anna sits back down in her seat. I take her hand and don’t let go.
Anna
At night, when I’m kicked out of Drew’s room once again, I grab his keys and head to his house. Yes, I’m basically breaking in, but things need to be done. Drew’s car is in the drive, one of his teammates presumably having dropped it off with the spare key earlier. The porch light is on, as is the kitchen light, just visible in the back. It heartens me that someone cared enough to protect his house that way.
Hauling up my load of groceries with one hand, I brace a hip against the door and let myself in. I’m halfway across the living room when a massive shape looms up from the kitchen. Naturally, I scream my head off and launch my keys at my attacker. With a loud jangle they bounce off the center of Gray Grayson’s forehead before clattering to the floor.
