Page 166 of Let You Love Me

I frown.

I might feel like shit, but none of this is on him. That’s just plain stupid. “No.” I shake my head, my tone firm. “This was all on me, sir. I was distracted, not thinking right. Hell, I stopped mid-play. My mind was elsewhere and I just fucking froze. I wasn’t even thinking about football or catching the ball. Otherwise, I never would’ve gotten struck in the first place. I should’ve told you where my head was at, that I couldn’t play.”

“As nice as that sounds, I’m your coach.” He places the wrinkled cap back on his head and our eyes lock. “I knew you were emotionally wrecked, or at least, Ishould’veknown. I never should have put you out on that field. Not after . . . after everything that happened.”

He inhales a sharp breath and glances away for a moment, composing himself, his voice stronger when he says, “I knowhow to read a player, but I was so damn stuck in my own head, I ignored everything and everyone just so I could shut everything else out, pretend like it never happened.”

I understand that more than he knows.

“Maybe,” I tell him, “but I still should’ve told you I was in no condition to play. This one’s on me.”

He bows his head, shoulder slumping with the weight of the world as he says, “You were a damn good player, Nichols.”

I swallow, unable to choke anything out through the tightening in my throat as I nod.

“Well . . .” He taps a hand on my bed rail. “I’ll let you rest, but I’ll be back to check on you in the morning before they discharge you.” He turns for the door, and I’m more than grateful when he leaves without mentioning Lane.

My gaze slides to the window overlooking the city below and I stare out of it in an effort to numb myself. Traffic lurches along, stopping at lights and zipping between lanes. Pedestrians walk over the sidewalk, to and from work, to shops and restaurants.

I hear a knock on the door, and I turn my head to see the nurse from earlier peeking inside. “Mr. Nichols, there’s a young lady here to see you, a Lane Turner? I didn’t know if you wanted any other visitors yet?”

I shake my head as my chest cleaves in two, then I turn back toward the window while I focus on the simple task of breathing.

“Not now,” I say. “Tell her I don’t want to see her.”

Chapter 45

LANE

The second my fatherappears in the waiting room, I’m on him. “How is he?” I blurt, knowing he saw him.

He barely looks me in the eye as he mumbles, “Not great.” He swallows while my stomach drops to my knees. “He had quite the hit to the head when he hit the ground, but his concussion is mild. It’s his back that’s the problem,” he chokes out.

“His back?” I straighten, chest tight.

He nods, staring in the direction of the elevators, like he can’t get away from me fast enough. “He fractured his T2. He’s able to walk, but it will limit him and likely hurt like a bitch until it heals.”

His back.

Tears prick my eyes as I think about how much pain he must be in on top of the betrayal I handed him, and when my father starts to move past me, I grip his arm, stopping him. “What about football?”

My father bows his head and shakes his head. “He’s finished.”

I drop my hand from his arm, too numb to stop his retreat as strides away from me.

Everything that happened today is my fault.

It’s my fault Teagan was distracted. I could tell the moment he stepped onto the football field, he wasn’t himself.

It’s my fault he’s lying in a hospital bed.

It’s my fault his heart is hurting.

And it’s my fault he’ll never play football again.

My fault.It’s all I can focus on as when I note a nurse headed toward the hallway and rush to stop her.

“Can I see Teagan Nichols?” I ask. “I don’t know what room he’s in, but—”