There’s a crick in my neck and my lower back spasms every so often, reminding me that the few hours of sleep I did manage to get were spent hunched over in a chair at Kay’s bedside. It’s not that I’m complaining, because I’m not. I’ll be here with her until she’s released. It’s the only way to guarantee she will rest, because she sure was fighting doing so before I left.
Thankfully, Kay is sleeping by the time I make it back to her room. A little bit of the stress I’ve been carrying falls away upon seeing her lashes fanned over her cheeks and the wrinkle between her brows smoothed.
“Everything go alright with Coach?” Trav asks as I hand him back his phone.
“Yeah.” My feet are heavy as they carry me back to the chair I’ve claimed as my own, my butt hitting the seat with a thump as I all but collapse into it.
“Livi texted me this morning.”
I bite back a curse. For one, the hospital sure won’t respond too kindly if more people show up. The twins love Kay, as does Mom. It wouldn’t take much for them to convince her to bring them, and if they all come by, I run the risk of Brantley tagging along. I don’t have the energy to deal with that.
“I told her Kay is fine, but we have to keep the number of visitors down.” Trav looks over the room packed with more people than seats available and smirks. “She promised to update Moms.”
“Thanks, man.”
I scrub my hands over my face in an effort to rid myself of the lingering exhaustion. This whole situation is fucked. It feels like I’m walking a tightrope and one misstep is all it would take to have everything come tumbling down.
I did anything and everything I could think of to get Kay back in my life. Why do I feel like it’s going to be an ongoing battle to convince her the only place she belongs is by my side?
“When the Crabs announced that both Eric Dennings and Ben Turner would be inactive today, it came as a shock.”
“Oh shit.” E’s curse has me snapping out of the half-awake daze I’d started to fall into.
“G, turn it up,” Bette instructs as my eyes blink the TV hanging on the wall into focus to see the Crabs’ pregame show playing on it.
“With the news of Dennings’ sister being in the hospital breaking, it now comes as no surprise he is missing today’s game.”
“She’s going to freak when she hears they’re talking about this in the pregame,” JT says, leaning back in his chair.
“What about Ben Turner?”
As the broadcast switches back to the on-field reporter, the screen splits to show her side by side with a post from B’s Instagram of him and E mugging it up for the camera at Thanksgiving the other day. Just as the tension in the room starts to ebb, the blood in my veins turns to ice.
It’s not the new picture of the most famous bromance in the NFL that does it. No, it’s both what they are doing in the shot and who posted it—UofJ411. Sonofabitch! How did they get a picture of them in the waiting room last night?
“It’s common knowledge that the two players share a close bromance both on and off the field,” the sideline reporter explains. “I know I wasn’t surprised to see he would be with his friend in his time of need. Details of what led to the younger Dennings being hospitalized have not been confirmed, but one thing is for certain…the Crabs offense certainly has their work cut out for them today if they are going to pull off a win against Cincinnati.”
Not one person says a word, the only sound coming from the furious tapping of Jordan Donovan’s nail as it flies over the screen of her iPad.
“What did they mean by ‘news breaking’?” Kay’s voice, still slightly scratchy from being intubated from surgery, jerks everyone to attention. She was asleep, and I was hoping she’d stay that way and we would be able to come up with the best way to tell her about this.
#Chapter16
My back arches as I wiggle first to the left then to the right, trying to find a comfortable position. I’ve been sleeping in spurts throughout the day, but I wouldn’t say any of it was restful.
Though I was touched beyond words by how many people wanted to be here to show their support, the increased stimuli of cramming so many bodies into one room wreaked havoc on my senses thanks to the effects of my concussion.
Bette stepped in and mommed the crap out of everyone, a nice change seeing as I’m usually the only one who gets to experience that type of treatment. Thanks to her logic, Trav and the guys didn’t put up a fight—well, not a big one—when she convinced them to head back to campus. Thanks to the win against Penn State, the Hawks will be playing in the Big Ten conference championship this upcoming weekend. It’s bad enough Mase will be missing practice tomorrow; we can’t have all the captains absent if they want a shot at clenching a berth to a playoff bowl game.
G and the girls left for a similar reason, though they were more reluctant to go than the others.
I agreed to taking a week off from classes to recover from my injuries. It’ll be a few days before I’m permitted screen time, making it an easy decision, and CK clinched the deal for me when he offered to gather anything I might need to help keep up with my coursework once I can read without the result being a pounding headache.
“What do you need, babe?” Mase asks when I attempt to beat one of my pillows into submission without much success.
I blow out a frustrated breath and lift my gaze to his. He’s the only person who held steadfast in his resolve to not leave my side. To be fair, I think knowing Mase would be with me is the only reason E and B agreed to Jordan’s suggestion of moving things to the offices at All Things Sports. With the press being aware of the reason behind them missing the game today—Baltimore losing to Cincinnati by two touchdowns—my brother has been even more adamant about figuring out the best way to get ahead of the story so we aren’t blindsided like we were with all the media attention surrounding Dad’s trial.
When JT said goodbye to me before Bette drove him to the airport for his flight back to Kentucky, he held on a little bit longer and whispered in my ear, “Be brave.”
With my best friend’s words echoing inside my head, I take a deep breath before following his advice.
“Will you lie down with me?” My voice is small as I make my request. Yes I want Mase next to me because it will help me sleep, but really I need his arms around me while I face one of my bigger fears—my truth.
Crinkles form at the edges of Mase’s eyes as he once again catalogs my injuries. The movement of his throat as he works to swallow gives away how torn he is about giving in to my request. After a few seconds, he shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never.” My response is automatic.
His expression turns pained and he grips the back of his neck, his bicep popping like a coconut and making me want to sink my teeth into it. What? I’m concussed, not dead.
“You can’t put any pressure on your cheek.” Mase makes another attempt to deny me, but I’m not having it.
“So lie on my right side.” I lift my arm and pat the mattress twice.
“I don’t want to pull on your IV.”