Page 98 of Something Like That

The hit lifted Nick off his feet and sent his head banging against the glass. The crack of his helmet was loud. And then the world went black.

Alex watched as the Dallas player hit Nick after the play with a nasty, flying elbow. Nick hit the boards and glass with a crash, and crumpled to the ice.

The almost capacity crown collectively gasped, and then an eerie silence descending on the building. Bile rolled up her throat. She slapped her hand over her mouth to stop from screaming or crying. Or maybe throwing up.

He wasn’t moving. Was just lying there on the ice. Not moving.

She was out her seat and headed down to ice level before she even realized she was going to move. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay. She elbowed her way to the glass.

The team medics were already on the ice. One of them was down on his knees next to Nick. Nick’s eyes were open—her knees almost buckled with relief—and the medic was talking to him. His lips moved, answering the medic’s questions.

She leaned against the glass to keep herself upright. The cold plexiglass stung her forehead.

Nick rolled over onto his hands and knees. The medic said something, and Nick nodded and got to his feet. The crowd cheered and clapped, but she couldn’t move. Her blood was as cold as the ice they were playing on. She watched him slowly make his way to the bench. The medic kept a hold of him and his teammates gathered around him.

She elbowed her way in that direction, pushing when she needed to. Now was not the time for decorum. She made it to the area behind the bench just as Nick got there.

“Nick.” She yelled his name, hoping he’d hear her over the crowd. “Nick. Nick.” She hopped up and down, banging on the glass.

He looked up, pain and confusion in his gaze.

“I’m here, I’m here.” She was so close to hiking over the glass just to get to him.

He turned to the medic and said something. The medic looked at her and nodded. Then Nick was hustled into the hallway leading to the dressing room and out of sight.

She stood there, heart lodged in her throat, not sure what to do next. He’d seen her, hadn’t he? Then again, he just took a major blow to the head, so it was possible he hadn’t seen her at all. Or at least registered she was actually here.

What to do? What to do? What to do?

She could try to get behind the scenes, although that was probably going to be difficult. Even if she was technically his strength and conditioning coach. She had no way to prove it. Would they take her word for it?

A guy wearing the Barons colors came out of the tunnel and glanced at the crowd behind the bench. His gaze landed on her. Her stomach clenched. He climbed the plexiglass in front of her until his head popped over the top.

“Alex Dumont?”

“Yes.”

“Meet me up on the plaza level in five minutes. I’ll bring you down.”

She nodded, her throat too clogged to let words slip past. Nick had seen her, had known who she was. And he was asking for her.

She hurried up to the plaza level, staying in the same section to make it easier. As promised, the Barons staff guy showed up a few minutes later and led down into the team area.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been in a personnel-only area for a team, although this was definitely the biggest one. Her previous experience was mostly college and university level. Not the big leagues.

Everything here was very regimented and orderly. Her precision loving heart felt right at home. Or would have, if every beat wasn’t screaming out for Nick to be okay. Every second sent a new rush of worry through her. He could very easily have a concussion—at this point, it was pretty much a given—and there was also the possibility of some other kind of head injury, or even a spinal injury.

The Barons guy, who’d introduced himself as Steve, stopped next to a door with a medical room plaque on it and pulled it open for her. She stepped inside, and finally let out the breath she’d been holding since the asshole had elbowed Nick in the head.

Nick sat on an exam bed, wearing sweat pants and a Barons t-shirt. There was a cut on his forehead that had been bandaged already, and a smear of blood near his temple.

She made a squeaking noise and raced forward. He looked up. His gaze still held a touch of glassiness, but he wasn’t out of it completely. She wanted to fling herself into his arms, squeeze him tight, never let him go.

But she stopped just in front of him, afraid of his reaction.

“Hey.” Her voice sounded thick in the quiet room. Way to be suave and witty, Alex. Good job.

“What are you doing here?” He wrapped his hands around the front of the exam bed. It looked like he was holding onto it pretty bloody tight.