Page 71 of The Surprise Play (Nolan U Football #3)

ELIZABETH

Sleeping against Wily, as good as it might feel, is not an easy feat in a hospital bed.

My arm goes numb, and I need to shift, but I don’t want to disturb him.

And then around two in the morning, he starts getting pain as the meds have worn off, and I rush out to get the night nurse, who then scolds me for being there.

I try to tell her that Wily needs me, but she isn’t having it.

In the end, Wily loses his shit and yells at her that I’m not leaving, and I back him up, saying if I’m not allowed on the bed, then I’ll park myself on the floor for the night.

She looks about ready to call security, but she must have seen the desperate, pleading look on Wily’s face and ends up relenting with a sigh.

“Don’t let anyone see you in here,” she whispers at me, pulling the curtain around so no one can see us through the glass in the door before leaving to get Wily his meds.

He’s sad and restless, so I take his hand, brushing my thumb over his knuckles. “What should we talk about?” I smile, trying to distract him. “I’ve got some great diner stories I can tell you, or we could?—”

“Satch.” He sighs my name, squeezing my fingers, the look on his face making me instantly nervous.

“What is it?” I coax him when his eyes finally track up to my face… and he doesn’t say anything.

His blue gaze is glassy… tortured.

“Baby?” I touch his face.

“I might have to leave you,” he whispers, his voice raw and wounded.

“What do you mean?” I keep my tone gentle, stuffing down the bloom of panic that wants to expand and blow up in my chest.

“I—” His explanation is cut short by the nurse, who returns with the meds and is clearly appeased to see my butt in the chair and not Wily’s bed.

She waits until he’s swallowed the pills and sipped some more water before checking on his knee and making a small adjustment. He hisses, and I flinch at the pain on his face.

“I know,” she murmurs softly, her smile compassionate when she takes the empty cup from him and glances at me. “Make sure he rests.”

I nod, waiting for the door to click shut behind her before looking back at my boyfriend, who is so obviously weighed down. And totally exhausted.

I have to know why he might have to leave me, but I also need him to rest.

Worrying my lip, I gnaw on it until Wily softly reprimands me, “Stop that.”

He reaches out, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip, and I’m losing my battle with this whole hiding my panic thing.

Sucking in a shaky breath, I know I shouldn’t ask, but I have to. I selfishly have to know now or that panic is going to get the better of me.

“Why do you have to leave?”

His sigh is so heavy, I feel the weight off it smother me, pushing on my shoulders. They sink, curling in as I start gnawing on my lip again.

“There’s this… training camp I can probably get into.”

“Okay.” I nod.

“Dad’s really pushing for it.” Wily swallows.

I watch his Adam’s apple bob, too afraid to look him in the eye in case I give something away.

Something that might stop him from making the best choice for him.

“It would mean dropping out of school and going straight to the camp. I’d do all of my recovery there, get myself fit for the next season.

It’s probably my best shot at scoring a decent contract. Getting drafted with a good team.”

I nod, willing myself not to cry as I play with his fingers.

“I don’t know what to do,” he softly whispers, and my head jolts up.

My eyebrows dip in confusion; I can feel them furrowing as I give him a questioning frown. “What do you mean?”

Working his jaw to the side, he scratches his short whiskers. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Aw. My heart folds, turning to putty as I fight the urge to do the wrong thing.

“But Wily, you…” Say it. Don’t be a selfish bitch. Just say it! “You have to. This is your dream. Your goal. If it’s going to help you get there, then…” My nose wrinkles, and I can’t help a short huff. “Sucks that you won’t be able to graduate, though. You deserve that too.”

He stares at me, and I will my gaze to cross over his. His eyes are so blue, so vibrant. “You know, before I met you, this would have been a no-brainer. But now…” His expression crumples. “Now, I’m torn.”

As much as I don’t want to say it, I force myself to be the bigger person. This isn’t about me and my needy self. I want him to pursue his dreams. I love him enough to encourage him in whatever he wants to do.

“It’s okay to leave me.” I reach for the necklace that I haven’t taken off since he clipped it around my neck. Holding up the coyote pendant, I force myself to smile. “You’ll always be with me. And I will only ever be a phone call away. If you want us to stay together, then we will.”

“Of course I want us to.” He lifts my hand, pressing it against his cheek and holding it there. “It would suck to live away from you, but I know you’re still my girl.”

“Yes, I am.” I smile, tears filling my eyes.

He swallows, pressing his lips against my wrist before running circles over my soft skin. His thumb is warm and comforting and… Why is he trying to comfort me? Shouldn’t I be the one doing all the soothing right now?

“Coyote,” I whisper. “It’s okay. It’s?—”

“It’s not the only reason I’m torn,” he mumbles, cutting me off without even noticing. He’s staring at his knee now, looking sweetly confused when he turns back to face me. “I’m hating the idea of dropping out of school.” He shrugs. “I want to graduate.”

“Then you should do that.” It’s so easy for me to jump in with that encouragement. Of course I want him to graduate! Dropping out this close to the finish line is insane.

But I’m aware that I’m coming at this from a very different perspective than a football-obsessed offensive lineman.

He sighs, shaking his head. “Dad will hate that.”

I wince, my voice soft and breathy as I argue back. “It’s your life. The choice has to be yours.”

“I know.” He nods. “I just want both, you know? I want my original plan back.” His voice wobbles, then breaks as he glares at his knee. “Stupid fucking ACL.”

I stand up, resting my hand on his cheek and guiding him to face me. “It’s not a decision you have to make right this second, okay? You have time. Let’s just get you through this surgery, and then we can hash it out and you can settle on whatever feels best.”

His frown is pained and heartbreaking. “Both are gonna hurt.”

There’s nothing I can do but nod and give him a sad smile.

His expression crumples all over again, and I pull him close, kissing the side of his head and softly stroking his hair.

He slowly starts to relax, the pain relief obviously kicking in. I think it might be making him sleepy, too, because his head gets heavy. I rest it back against the pillow as his eyes slip shut and he drifts off to sleep.

I hold his hand and watch him for as long as I can keep my eyes open, then finally shut down and end up falling asleep with my butt in the chair and my head on the mattress.