Page 16

"I’ll make sure he stays alive."

James Adler

“Wait,” I breathe out the second she tugs her hand from mine. “Please stay.”

She glances at me, hesitation dancing in her eyes. She looks at the door, then at me. Finally, she returns to my side and takes my hand again. I pull her closer until she’s seated on the edge of the bed, leaning over me.

I push a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and cup her cheek.

“I'm crazy about you, Elizabeth Bowen,” I say, and she leans into my hand. “Don’t you see it?”

I caress her cheek with the back of my hand and stop when I reach her chin.

Just when I’m about to pull her a few inches closer, she closes the gap between us. Her lips taste like cherry, probably from that lip gloss she always wears. And just like I imagined they would be, they're soft. Like a cloud or a pillow.

Something touches my foot, and I chuckle against her lips. “Stop it. That tickles,” I say, but she keeps going, clearly intent on starting a war.

I want to retaliate, but all of a sudden she disappears from my grasp.

“Stop it, dude,” a deep voice chides.

“But it’s weird that he can’t feel it, isn’t it?” someone else says. Wait. Is that a hint of a French accent? “Maybe the doctors missed something,” he continues.

“The doctors didn't miss anything. He's fine. Look, he’s smiling.”

Wait a minute, I know that voice. It sounds suspiciously like . . .

“Miles,” I croak, opening my eyes to find him next to me, wearing his game suit. Elizabeth is nowhere in sight. A twinge of disappointment hits when I realize that kiss was only a dream.

“Aw. Let the record show that he said my name first,” Miles says with a grin, leaning closer and squeezing my shoulder.

“You scared us, bro,” he adds, and I notice a large cut on his cheek.

“Glad you're okay. The entire team is sending their love, but we thought it would be best if only a few of us came in.”

“Good to see you again, man,” Hawthorne says from my other side. His beard looks even more full right now, and his eyes are bloodshot from exhaustion.

“Welcome back, mate,” Wally says, his large frame taking up the entire width of the bed.

“Did you feel that on your foot?” Beaumont asks, a shadow of concern over his face. “Can you move your toes?”

I frown. “Was that you tickling me just now?”

Everyone laughs. Even Wally’s deep and boisterous laughter fills the room.

“Do that again, and I'll kick your butt,” I add to Beaumont, who breaks into a smile.

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, by the way, how did the game end?” I ask, suddenly remembering that I left them shorthanded.

“We won,” Miles says, grinnin g ear to ear. “Three to one.”

My eyes widen. “Shut up!”

“What? You think we need you to win?” Beaumont asks, stretching his arms over his head.

“Obviously,” I reply without hesitation, and everyone laughs.

Beaumont lets out an exaggerated breath. “Phew! He’s back.”

“Frenchie Boy and I scored,” Hawthorne explains. “Went at them strong too. The game was heated after you left, as you can imagine.”

Wally shakes his head. “And Rogers got a match penalty.”

I let out a long breath. “Thanks, guys. For having my back.”

“Anytime.” Hawthorne taps his fist on my leg.

“What about me? How long am I out for? The doc hasn’t said anything yet.”

“We don't know,” he replies. “Coach is talking with the doctor now. They should be back in shortly.”

Right on cue, the door opens, and Coach and the doc step inside.

“All right, we’ll give you the room,” Miles says.

They all pat my legs—Beaumont a bit stronger than the others—before leaving the room.

“Glad you’re in one piece,” Coach says, squeezing my shoulder.

“Thanks, Coach.” With a sharp breath, I turn to the doctor. “What’s the damage, doc?”

“You suffered a nose fracture and a mild concussion. I already realigned your nose, so you shouldn’t see any difference in your appearance once the dressing is off.

Right now, I'm just waiting on the CT scan results to ensure we haven’t missed anything.

As for the game, you're going to be out for a while, I'm afraid.”

“Well, I'll go take care of the paperwork,” Coach says with a sympathetic smile, and they both leave the room.

I stare at the hospital bed sheets, my chest constricting.

Hockey is everything to me. I've been dreading a major injury that would take me out for my entire career, but up until now, I’d been lucky.

As much as it sucks, I don't regret starting that fight. There are just certain things you can’t let slide when it comes to the women you love.

The word hits me like another slap in the face, but at the same time, it’s oddly comforting.

I’m in love with Elizabeth. This isn’t just a crush, it’s more than that.

I’ve known for a while, but actions speak louder than words, and the fact that I just put my body and my career on the line to defend her, without an ounce of hesitation, is practically shouting it from the rooftops.

I know she’s nowhere near ready, but I’ll wait. All I have is time.

I don't know how long I lie there, alone with my thoughts, until I finally hear a knock on the door. It opens slowly. Marissa walks in, followed by Hayley and Elizabeth. “Hey. We know you need to rest,” Marissa says. “But we just wanted to see you quickly before we go. How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, ladies. I'm okay.”

“Are you sure?” Hayley asks with the same look of concern that her fiancé wore.

“That was really scary. It’s in those moments you realize how dangerous this sport is.

” She suppresses a shiver, and my heart clenches.

Hockey players may not have the most dangerous job in the world, but the occupational hazards are yet another downside to being married to one.

I flash her a big, reassuring smile. “Positive. But thank you for caring.”

“Of course we care,” Elizabeth says. She steps closer, and at once, my world feels fuller.

She looks tired, and her eyes are way too glassy for my liking.

When she places a hand on my leg, it’s like my skin just caught fire.

I should tell Beaumont. That'll put him at ease. Because right now, I’m definitely getting all the feels.

Memories of my interrupted dream from earlier come to mind, and the heat spreads to my entire body.

“Absolutely,” Marissa adds. “You’re our friend, and we’re here for you. Does it hurt?” She glances at my nose.

I shrug. “They say it’s broken, but I can’t feel it. Probably the drugs they gave me.” That, or after years of hockey, I’ve developed a higher tolerance for pain.

“Good to hear.” She nods, smiling. “We’ll let you get some rest, but take care of yourself, okay? And don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything once you’re home. We’re only two floors down.”

I smile back. “Will do.”

Elizabeth shoots me one last look, and it almost breaks me. I have never seen so much pain in those beautiful gray eyes. “Bye,” she says, walking toward the door with Marissa and Hayley.

“Wait,” I call out. “Elizabeth, can you stay for a second?”

She shares a glance with her friends, then nods before closing the door behind them.

“Thank you for being here,” I say.

“Of course.” She stares at the floor, then off to the side. “I’m so sorry, James. It’s my fault you're in here.”

My heart constricts when I hear the waver in her voice.

“See, no. I knew that’s where your head was at,” I say, sitting up straighter and extending my arm to her.

She takes my hand, and my entire world t ilts on its axis.

She sits next to me, her eyes still downcast. “None of this is your fault, Elizabeth. I promise you,” I say, squeezing her hand.

But she’s still avoiding my gaze. “Hey, look at me, please.”

Finally, her eyes meet mine, and the pain reflected in them hurts me so deeply, there’s no medication strong enough to make it disappear.

“I’m a grown man. I went after Rogers, and I got hit.

It was my decision. I’m just stupid and reckless, okay?

I know violence isn’t the answer, but I couldn’t let him get away with what he did. And you know what? I don’t regret it.”

Her mouth twists to the side, then she shakes her head. “Yeah, it was stupid. Now your career is on the line.”

I wince.

Her voice drops a few notches. “How long are you out for?”

“Not sure yet, but at least a few weeks, I'm guessing.”

Her gaze softens. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm not.”

Our eyes lock, and suddenly, I’m not in some sterile hospital room anymore. I'm lost in the storm of her eyes. It’s beautiful and sad. Complicated and hopeful.

And it’s exactly where I want to be.

The door swings open, interrupting the moment. “Got your test results back,” Doc says, hustling in. “Sorry,” he adds, noticing Elizabeth. “I didn' t know you still had company.”

“I’ll go,” she says, releasing my hand.

“No. Please stay,” I plead. It’s nice to have someone next to me, especially when the doc might hit me with some crappy news.

With a small nod, she folds her arms and takes a step back, giving the doctor some space.

“CT is clear,” Doc says, “but let me do a few more quick tests.” He takes out a light pen from his vest, then asks me to follow it with my eyes. After that, he checks my pupils and tests my reflexes.

“Okay,” he says, studying my chart again.

“So, am I free to go?” I ask, eager to get back to my apartment and lie down in my plush king-size bed.

He looks at me, then at the chart again. “Actually, I would feel more comfortable keeping you here for observation tonight, just in case you lose consciousness again. Unless you have someone who can stay with you.”

“I can.” Elizabeth steps forward, catching me by surprise. She dances on her feet, wringing her hands. “I’ll make sure he stays alive.”

“Great,” Doc says, clasping his hands. “Make sure you ice your nose to keep the swelling down. I’ll go ahead and write you a prescription, then I 'll sign your discharge papers.”

“I’ll spend the night at your place. That is, if the offer still stands,” Elizabeth ventures, glancing at me as the doc is leaving.

I press my lips together, nodding. “Always.”

Yeah, maybe this thing wasn’t so stupid after all.