Page 36 of Replay (Toronto Blaze #3)

I Like a Challenge

Katie

Supervising the night lab was mostly quiet.

At this point in the semester, with exams nipping at their heels, students weren’t goofing off.

I’d given them some review questions and stood by to assist if they needed it.

The more they did on their own, the better their chances once they were sitting in front of that upcoming exam.

There weren’t any students like Josh here. These kids didn’t struggle with math the way he did, but everyone had their own blocks to understanding, and figuring out what was most effective for them was the most rewarding part of my job.

Between questions, I was working on my own exam review. The difficulty of master’s-level classes was exponential. It was tempting to check the game I knew Josh was playing, but I wouldn’t do that in front of the class. It wasn’t like the game against Minnesota when there was so much on the line.

I’d answered some questions, went through a couple more pages of my own stuff, when the door suddenly slammed open and Andrea stopped just inside, panting.

“Andrea? Are you okay?”

She shook her head. I got up and rushed to wrap an arm around her, trying to calm her while she gasped for breath.

“I…texted…”

I’d turned off notifications. I’d be too distracted with following the game if I let myself open my phone.

Andrea waved her hand, so I picked up my phone from the desk and opened it up. Before I could see what she’d sent, notifications from the game popped up.

Middleton taken off the ice.

Status of #17 unclear after brutal check.

My stomach twisted. It couldn’t be. That injury in the preseason, he’d said it had been his first one. His game style was to be fast, to get out of any dangerous situations. He had bruises, sure, after a game, but he wouldn’t get seriously hurt, would he?

I swallowed down my panic. “What happened, Andrea?”

She shook her head. “Bad…check.” She straightened up. “I know you keep your phone off during labs, but I thought maybe he’d send you something and you would need to know.”

I scrolled through my notifications. Andrea’s message, game posts about goals—Josh got one—but nothing from Josh himself. “There’s nothing. Is that good?”

“I don’t know. Teams are really bad about revealing injuries to their players.”

“What’s going on?” one of my students asked.

For the first time, I realized the entire class was following along, much more interested in this drama than math.

“Her boyfriend was just taken out of the game,” Andrea answered tersely.

“Wait, do you mean Ducky? I saw he was out.”

“My TA is dating Ducky?” The guy in the back row stared at me in surprise.

“Ducky. Fuck, man, he’s been having a great year.”

I couldn’t handle this. I just wanted to find out what happened to my boyfriend without fielding questions.

“You know Ducky?” The guy in the back row was not letting this go.

I nodded, fingers trembling as I tried to operate the stupid phone, looking for more news. “I was his math tutor in high school.”

I’d finally called up a search engine and typed in Josh Middleton and injury to see what news was out. I scrolled through the hits that came up. Nothing definitive.

“Seriously? Why aren’t you at the game?” The same guy.

Nothing online except that he’d been taken off the ice on a stretcher. Damn it.

“If you’re really dating him, you’d be at the game.”

I looked up at that. These kids were questioning my relationship while I was freaking out over whether my boyfriend was alive?

Healthy? “For the record, what I do in this classroom is just as valid as what he does on the ice. But I need to find out what the hell is going on with him, so lab is over. Email your questions because I’m done. ”

I texted and called Josh’s phone. Students gathered their stuff and headed out the doorway.

There was no answer. I drew in a deep breath.

Josh didn’t have his phone with him when he was playing, but he always seemed to check it as soon as he was off the ice.

He was either still playing, or something bad had happened.

He had to be playing. How did I find out when I couldn’t message him and I didn’t know anyone at the game in person?

I checked the latest game stats online, showing player shifts and time on ice.

Josh was not listed, which was a bad sign.

There was nothing about Josh’s condition. Wouldn’t they know if it was bad?

I tapped my phone impatiently. Who else could tell me what was going on? Would Jess or Callie know? They weren’t at the game tonight. I needed someone on the team. Daniel . He wouldn’t have his phone with him, not right now, but he’d let me know when he could. I was sure of that.

I pulled up his contact and started to text.

“What can I do?” Andrea asked.

“Thanks for letting me know, but I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. At least no one here. I’m messaging Daniel, Josh’s roommate.”

“You mean Fitch?”

“Yeah. I hope he’ll tell me something when he can.” He would, wouldn’t he?

“It can’t be too bad. They didn’t stop the game.”

“But he hasn’t had another shift.”

She bit her lip.

All the students were gone. I had nothing to do but refresh my phone’s browser while I waited for information. No point in staying. “I’m going home now. I can worry in private.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I turned and gave her a hug. “Thank you for offering. But I’ll be terrible company, plus you’ve got exams coming up.”

“So do you.”

I shrugged. “Until I find out, I won’t be able to concentrate.” I shoved my textbook and laptop into my bag. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

She asked me a couple more times if I was sure, then hugged me and finally left. I headed home.

Madeline was gone, so I flipped between sporting channels on the TV, desperate for news. I couldn’t concentrate on my textbook and kept pacing as I waited to learn something.

* * *

It was long hours later when Daniel finally got back to me. It had taken him a while to find out himself what was happening with Josh. Emergency surgery on his knee, out for six months.

Josh was going to freak out, missing that much time.

“And that’s a guarantee, that he’ll be playing again?”

Silence on the other end. Then, “The odds are in his favor, but there aren’t any guarantees, Katie.”

If he couldn’t play hockey…this would devastate him.

I thought he’d been smart with his money, so at least he’d be good financially and not desperate for a job.

I didn’t know for sure; since that wasn’t why I was with him, I hadn’t pried.

But I knew Josh. Hockey was his thing. The thing that gave him his sense of worth.

I’d been telling him, in high school and now, that there was more to him than that, but he didn’t really believe me. What would he do if he was done?

This could be bad. Really bad.

“I need to see him.”

“I’m not sure what I can do, but I’ll try to get you in. I know he’d want you there. I’ll contact you when I work something out.” Then he was gone.

I looked around the condo. If Daniel could get me to Josh, I needed to take some things.

My tablet, with all the Star Wars material I could put on it, for a distraction when he woke up because he was not a good patient.

The hospital would feed and hydrate him, but I’d need a water bottle and some energy bars.

Some of my assignments, because there’d probably be a lot of time to wait, and I’d be calling in a couple of sick days. I’d have a lot to catch up on.

It was two in the morning when I got the call from Daniel. He’d somehow wrangled permission for me to stay with Josh. I had explicit instructions to follow to get into his very private room, and a message he texted me to get past security.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I’m doing this for Ducky as much as for you.”

“Still, thank you.”

“Just help him. That will be enough thanks.”

I’d do everything I could.

* * *

I didn’t remember much about the ride to the hospital. I was exhausted and wired, resulting in everything feeling both removed and immediate. I five-starred the driver and tipped her well before making my way through the corridors, following Daniel’s instructions.

I didn’t get through easily. Security was tight for a celebrity athlete.

I saw people around who I assumed were reporters, so a lot of the checks they made were to make sure I wasn’t a member of the press.

There were a couple of phone calls to someone higher up to verify I was allowed through, but finally I was in his room.

He was out of recovery, but he was still hooked up to a lot of machines. His knee was in a weird brace/cast, the rest of him under the covers, in a hospital gown. He looked so defenseless, so vulnerable. I dropped my bag in a chair and stood beside the bed.

There were shadows under his eyes and his mouth was pinched, as if the pain under all the drugs was still bothering him. He was breathing on his own, which shot relief through me. No reason a knee injury should be fatal, but my fears had not been logical.

As long as he was alive, we could get through anything else. I ran my fingertips over his forearm and hand, the one not hooked up to the IV. He twitched.

Exhaustion wrapped over me. There was nothing I could do right now, not until he woke up, so I might as well try to get some sleep too.

I pulled out my tablet and set it on the rolling table at the side of the bed.

Not that he was likely to wake up and want a distraction immediately, but once he was back to himself…

I pulled the chair up beside the bed. I tried curling up in the chair, then leaning back, and finally resting my feet on the side of his bed. A nurse came in and nodded to me. Guess word had gone out that I was okay to stay. Once she’d checked Josh’s vitals, she left again.

I watched him breathing, lashes occasionally twitching as his eyes moved behind his eyelids, until my own lids drooped and I slept.