Page 11 of Stealing Forever (Bridge Point Bears Baseball #1)

A sharp pain radiates through my head as I straighten, abandoning the forks I accidentally dropped. My brows furrow as I try to regain my bearings, and I touch my fingertips to where it’s throbbing at my hairline.

When I pull them away, they’re covered in blood.

Sucking in a tight breath, I stare at them in disbelief before dragging my eyes back to Declan, who looks utterly horror-struck.

For a second, it seems like time stands still, then all of a sudden he springs into action. Grabbing a stack of napkins from the table, he uses them to apply pressure to my head and yells, “Where’s Doctor Waggoner?”

There’s a slight tremble of panic in his tone, and it sends my heart racing into a frenzy.

A shuffle of footsteps to the side have me turning my head to see who’s approaching, but with the movement comes more pain, and I suck in another sharp breath.

Declan’s firm hold never leaves as he applies pressure. “Don’t move, sweetheart,” his deep voice instructs. The nickname sends the butterflies in my stomach into a complete frenzy.

“Is she okay?” a male voice asks from somewhere behind my periphery.

“Someone take Sailor for me,” Declan barks at the men I met earlier, and I realize Sailor is crying.

“Oh, no, Sailor, I’m okay!” I tell her, reaching my hand to her. Her little fingers wrap around mine until someone lifts her into their arms.

More footsteps approach, and a new voice asks, “What happened?”

“I’m okay,” I croak through gritted teeth. My hand wraps around Declan’s wrist and I try to move him, but he holds steady, refusing to move.

“I’m keeping pressure on this cut until the doctor can look at it.”

“Okay,” is all I manage to say before another set of footsteps join us.

“What happened?” This man’s voice is softer, less concerned and more calm and professional. I assume it’s the doctor.

“She hit her head on the corner of this table,” Declan explains. “I haven’t gotten a good look at it, I just started to apply pressure to stop the bleeding.”

“Good call, let’s get her to my office and I’ll take a closer look.”

“Thanks, Liam.”

My hand lifts to my head, and I push on the napkins, trying to get my hand under Declan’s. “I’ll keep pressure on the cut,” I promise.

His eyes search mine and I can see the battle behind them. Reluctantly, he lets go.

The moment his hand pulls away I lose balance, swaying on my feet.

“Fuck,” he grumbles, then in one swift movement I’m lifted into his arms bridal style.

Surprise fills me, and I squirm against his hold. “Put me down! I’m too heavy.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. You just worry about applying pressure with those napkins. Gareth, watch Sailor for me?”

“You’ve got it, Coach.” Gareth nods, then Declan carries me off, following the doctor.

“You don’t have to carry me, Declan, I’m fine,” I argue as we cross the field.

“There’s blood dripping from the napkins and you practically fell over just now.

You could have a concussion, Hailey. So yeah, I’m going to carry you to make sure you make it to the doctor’s office without passing out, okay?

” There’s a finality in his tone, and rather than fight him, I try to relax in his arms.

It’s not a bad place to be, in fact, I’ve been fantasizing about him touching me for weeks. Granted, I’d rather him be touching me in a different capacity, but considering this is the longest I’ve felt his skin against mine, I’ll take it.

Relaxing a bit, I focus on the small details of Declan Lane.

The flecks of gold in his irises, and the way there’s hints of copper in his hair from the golden rays of sunshine reflecting against the otherwise dark tendrils.

How his body is all hard, solid muscle and even through our layers of clothing I can feel the ridges beneath them and just know he’s chiseled.

My breathing changes at the mental image I’ve created, and I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, so I look away and peer out at the barbecue behind us.

It appears things have gone back to normal and the initial concern for my well-being has passed—which is completely fine.

They don’t need to worry about me, it’s just a cut.

Then why do I feel a little woozy?

With one hand, Declan rips open a door that leads into the stadium. Crossing over the threshold, I realize we’re entering the locker room, but he takes an immediate left and opens another door.

“You can put her on the examination table,” Doctor Waggoner tells Declan, then he turns to me. “Hi, I’m Liam Waggoner, the team doctor for the Bears. Can you tell me your name?”

“Hailey Shea.” Declan sets me down as softly as possible.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey. How’s your head feeling?” Doctor Waggoner finishes washing his hands in the small sink in his room and then takes his time drying them with paper towels.

“Not the greatest, but not terrible either.”

“Let’s have a look.” He finishes putting on his nitrile gloves and removes the napkins from my head, then without any hesitation, begins maneuvering my hair so he can see where the blood is coming from.

“You got yourself good. It’s a decent sized gash—I’m going to need to put a couple of stitches into it to make sure it heals properly. ”

“St-stiches?” Tears spring to my eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Probably four, but maybe five. Have you ever had stitches before?”

A hot tear rolls down my cheek as terror seizes me. “No.”

“It’s a fast fix. I’ll give you a local anesthetic, then stitch you back together, and you’ll be back out enjoying the barbecue within the next thirty minutes or less.”

“Okay.” I sniffle, praying to God that my nose doesn’t rain snot like it tends to do when I cry. I’ve had enough embarrassing moments in front of my gorgeous boss, like, I don’t know, the blood dripping from my head right now. The last thing I need is snot, too.

“Not a problem. I have a few forms I need you to fill out since I’m not your primary care physician—technically I should be sending you to the ER for this but as long as you consent to care, it's fine.”

“If Declan trusts you, so do I.” We make eye contact from across the room and he nods once, giving me all the encouragement I need to let Doctor Waggoner help me.

When he’s ready to begin the procedure, he carries a tray to my bedside and sets it down on his rolling table.

Unease grips me as I look over the various instruments he plans to use—a syringe with my injection ready to go, a literal needle and thread to sew me back together. Gauze. A bandage.

Suddenly, the air is being sucked from the room.

“Right, Ms. Shea. Are you ready?”

Slick, hot tears stream down my cheeks and I shake my head, which only intensifies the pain in my head.

“I’ll start with an examination to evaluate for a concussion, then we’ll work our way up to the stitches, sound good?”

“Okay. Th-thanks.” I sniffle again, and the doctor hands me a tissue. It’s soft against my skin as I dab beneath my eyes, then my nose. I’m able to calm myself down, and when I give him a tight, forced smile, he takes that as his cue to begin.

After Doctor Waggoner thoroughly examines my eyes with a series of tests and checks my reflexes, I know it’s time for the stitches.

I start to panic again. My fingernails dig into the thin paper that lines the exam table, and I squeeze my eyes for a moment, hoping it helps.

Within seconds, Declan’s by my side, and he takes my hand in his, trying to bring me comfort. “It’s okay, Hailey, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

He takes a deep inhale, demonstrating what he wants me to do, then exhales. Repeating the inhale, he locks eyes with me, and nods, encouraging me to do the same.

I inhale, then exhale at the same moment he does.

“That’s my girl,” he praises. “Do it again.”

His words cause my heart to pulsate, my toes curling as a warmth spreads through my body, pooling low in my stomach. But it also settles on my cheeks, heating them with both embarrassment and desire.

Modeling another inhale, I follow Declan’s lead again, using his breathing techniques to calm myself.

“You’re doing so good for me, Hailey. Breathe one more time for me.”

Holy shit.

My panties immediately dampen with his praise, my skin growing redder under his gaze.

Oh, I’m breathing all right. Just not in the calm, zen way he wants me to. No, I’m practically panting for him. His praise sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I suddenly feel overwhelmed with desire.

Clearly, it’s not gone unnoticed either.

Declan chuckles. “Good to know you like pretty words, sweetheart. Now, give me one more deep exhale.”

I release a very unsteady breath, expelling the air from my lungs, embarrassed as all hell but also wholly turned on. It’s impossible to focus on anything other than Declan, even when Doctor Waggoner gets to work, spreading my hair around the gash.

“You’re going to feel a pinch, then you may feel a cold sensation as the anesthesia is injected. After a few moments you’ll be numb in that area and I’ll put the stitches in,” Doctor Waggoner explains.

Declan squeezes my hand tighter.

I hiss as the needle penetrates my skin. My eyes squeeze shut, but I don’t let another tear fall. Instead, I blow out, forcing myself to stay calm despite my instinct telling me to freak out.

“You’re doing amazing, Hailey. Keep breathing through it. Squeeze my hand if it’s too much.”

Declan has no idea his words are straight out of a spicy romance novel, or how utterly turned on I am right now for him.

I don’t dare tell him.

And for the next ten minutes I get lost in the symphony of praise he sings to me as his team’s doctor stitches me up.