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Green eyes wide and frantic, he looks from me to Declan and back again. “We had a thing before the game, and I?—”
My glare shuts him up. I don’t want everyone else on the sidelines to hear him admit he purposely missed that block. There’d be hell to pay.
Desperation flashes through his gaze. His voice lowers into a tense mutter. “I swear to god, Ronan, I didn’t mean for him to get hurt. I thought they’d just sack him a couple times and then?—”
I growl my warning this time, “Enough. Meg is going to be devastated if he’s harmed, Theo. Devastated. Did you think about her at all?”
I know he did.
He thought about her so much he couldn’t keep his anger to himself. I understand that; it’s the real reason I’m laying into him right now. I’m pissed as fuck, and he’s an easy target.
The stadium squirms silently while a stretcher is brought out to the field. Meg stays at Declan’s side while they roll him onto it. Archer approaches us, keeping one eye trained on our omega the whole time.
“It’s a concussion,” he reports, grim. “He hasn’t woken up since he took the hit.”
“But he will,” I insist, fisting Theo’s jersey to keep him from running off onto the turf. “Right?”
Archer sighs, cleaning his glasses on his shirt before turning his focus back to Meg, lingering on the way she holds Declan’s lifeless hand.
“She’s the best thing for him right now,” Arch says, somehow sounding even more somber. “Which might be the worst part of all of this.”
chapter
fifty-six
I wake up somewhere weird.
It’s—well, not weird. Weird would imply that it’s bad. And this is… nice.
Like, really nice.
The pillow under my cheek feels fuzzy in a way that somehow does not annoy me. Surprising, since every part of my body currently throbs in pain. My head feels like a broken egg. Were my brains scrambled on a hot slab of pavement?
My eyelids flicker, sending a sharp dart of pain through my frontal lobe. I groan, cringing down into whatever soft surface I’m lying on.
Goddamn it.
What the fuck did I do?
“Shhh,” a soft voice instructs. “Don’t try to move.”
Something near me shifts. And then I hear it, the sound as quiet as a whisper. A tiny, humming purr.
The gentle vibration of it numbs the pain in my forehead. A plaintive groan scrapes out of my throat. My body automatically tenses to move closer, but a shocking burst of pain seizes me before I manage to shuffle onto my side.
The sweet voice sighs, interrupting the even-sweeter purr. “Don’t make me bark at you again, Howard.”
Some weak, distant voice in my head tells me that, under normal circumstances, this particular girl scolding me would make me hard. Right now, though, I’m lucky I can even feel that my dick is still attached to my body.
Small mercies or whatever.
When I go limp again, the purr restarts and moves closer. Until I’m pretty sure I would be staring at a familiar omega’s rack if I opened my eyes.
That thought seems like as good a reason as any to check my vision. Ignoring the agony that rips through my skull, I crack one lid open just far enough to confirm that, yes, there are tits hovering next to my face.
Beautiful, bare tits.
Another pathetic sound escapes me when my cock twitches, highlighting exactly how sore my abdominal muscles are. Meg hears the pained cross between a moan and a cry. Her eyes flash down my body to where I have a semi.
