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“Yes,” she mouths back before saying to Coach, “I’ve taken some pain meds, and I’ll do those exercises over the next few days. I might book in an extra appointment with my PT, but that’s all.”
“You’ll need to use your cane too. I’m guessing you don’t have it with you.”
Nylah stares down at her phone, her expression folding into a sad, despondent frown.
“Nylah?” her dad prompts.
I run my hand over her shoulder, lightly squeezing the back of her neck.
She clears her throat and mumbles, “It’s in my dorm.”
“I’ll go back up and get it.”
“You don’t have a key to get in.”
“Maybe your roommate will be back. Let me at least check.”
Instead of arguing her case, she kind of slumps, her shoulders rounding in defeat. Where’s my feisty girl gone?
I nudge her with my elbow, giving her a questioning frown, and she shakes her head.
“Uh… you don’t have to worry about it, Dad. If you can just help me get up to my dorm room, then I can use it for the rest of today.”
“This week,” he insists. “You’ll need it for the week, Nylah.”
Closing her eyes, she nods and whispers, “I know.”
And now I feel like total shit.
If it weren’t for me and fucking Fleischer, she wouldn’t have to touch her cane. We’ve never spoken about it, but she obviously hates that thing.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. I want you ready to go.”
“Yeah,” she murmurs before hanging up and leaning her forehead on my shoulder with a soft sniff.
I’m not sure what to say. She went from being a little hellcat to curling against me like a quiet mouse. I wrap my arm around her and press my lips to her forehead. She sniffs again and burrows a little deeper into my side.
And all I can do is hold her and hope her dad drives slowly.
CHAPTER33
NYLAH
I love and hate the fact that my dad is a man of his word. He pulls up outside Football Frat exactly ten minutes later. I’m already downstairs in the living room. I’m sticking to my slept-on-the-couch story like my life depends on it. Kind of feels like it does. Or at least Carson’s life does, and that’s worth keeping any secret for.
Glancing his way, I offer him a smile. His lips twitch a little, but then he goes back to bobbing his leg and looking at the floor like he’s awaiting his execution.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I’m not giving us away.”
His head pops up and he winces at me like he’s letting me down by keeping quiet.
“It’s okay.” I reach out, brushing my fingers down his arm. “It’s not the right time yet.”
“It’s never gonna be the right time,” he mutters. “Your dad hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “He will if he ever finds out about us.”