Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

My gaze darts to the sidelines where one of the trainers stands near a bench. He meets my stare and shakes his head, causing my stomach to tighten as worst-case scenarios grow in number in my head. Lexi was supposed to come to the game, but she wasn’t here by the time it started, and there’s still no sign of her.

I’ve always been able to separate my personal life from what’s happening on the field—until Lexi. All my usual tricks to get my head in the game aren’t doing a goddamn thing.

What if she got into an accident on the way to the stadium? What if she’s in the hospital hurt? What if something happened to the baby?

All the what-ifs nearly bring me to my knees. My phone is in the locker room, and she doesn’t have any of my friends’ or family’s numbers if she needed another way to get ahold of me. Why didn’t I think of that beforehand? She needs those numbers if there’s an emergency.

Lexi is not a flaky person. If I’ve learned anything about her over the past couple of months it’s that she’s kind, caring, and conscientious. She’d never just not show up unless there was a good reason.

There’s movement on the field, and my head snaps up to realize the play is in progress.

Fuck.

That hesitation is all the momentum they need. I chase after the player I’m covering, trying to fix my error, but it’s clear he’s going to catch the ball. The only thing I can do is hope it slows him down enough for me to tackle him. I push forward, channeling all my worry over Lexi and using it to move my body faster. The sooner we can end this, the sooner I can get back on the sidelines and beg that trainer to grab my phone and call Lexi.

I get closer and shove my body against his, but he twists at the last second, causing us to rotate on our way to the ground, and I hit the turf hard, followed by him landing on my right shoulder and head. Stars burst across my vision, and pain flares down my arm. He rolls off me quickly, but the damage is done. I don’t think anything’s torn, but my head throbs and my shoulder aches like I spent too many hours at the gym lifting weights that were fifty pounds too heavy.

Romel rushes over. “You okay?”

A groan escapes as I attempt to sit up, and he puts a hand on my shoulder. “Woah, hold on.”

A team medic runs over and kneels next to me. “Where were you hit?”

I grit my teeth, knowing how I answer this will determine if I can play or not, but I’m not about to mess around with my health. “Shoulder and head.”

“Headache?”

“No.”

“Any nausea, ringing in your ears, or blurred vision?”

I grip my shoulder, trying to rub away some of the ache. “No.”

The team doctor joins us on the field and crouches down. “You okay, Russell?”

“Shoulder hurts.”

“He hit his head too,” the medic shares.

The doc nods. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah.” I shift, trying to get up, but three pairs of arms grip me and help me to my feet. Fans cheer as I slowly walk off the field with Romel at my back and the doc and medic on either side of me. The doc ushers me straight to the medical tent set up on the sidelines, and a part of me wishes we were doing this in the locker room so I could check my damn phone.

The game resumes play while he runs through a series of questions designed to help determine if someone has a concussion. I answer them all. My head might still throb, but I’ve had concussions before, and they didn’t feel like this. I’m not confused, disoriented, or dizzy.

But I am distracted, and that’s a stupid thing to be in my position.

The doc stands tall, shoulders back. “I can clear you for a concussion, but how’s the shoulder?” He moves my arm, and at my wince, he frowns. He pushes on a couple of spots that are especially tender and doesn’t miss the way my teeth clench or the hiss of pain when he tries to rotate my arm back.

“I’d like to check this shoulder out in the locker room where we can get these pads off and see what’s really going on.”

Focusing on the ground in front of me, I nod. “Understood.”

When we exit the medical tent, the fans cheer wildly in the stands, and I plaster on my fake smile and wave to them, easing their concerns about my well-being.Guilt eats away at my gut when I see my replacement not moving as fluidly with the rest of the Fierce Four as I do.

I should be out there, and I’m pissed at myself for not being able to compartmentalize. Casting a glance, I find the trainer I talked to before the game who was supposed to keep an eye out for Lexi. I gesture for him to come over to me as the doc and I make our way to the locker room.

“She still isn’t at her seat,” he says without preamble.

My jaw clenches, but there’s nothing I can do. No one else has her number, and I don’t have it memorized—although I will after today—to have someone else call her. I’m going to need to make some changes so this doesn’t happen again. I can’t afford to be this distracted during my games, and apparently where Lexi’s concerned, my brain can’t just put her in a box and set her aside to focus on football.

The walk to the locker room feels like it takes an eternity, but the second we get in there, I ignore the team doctor who tells me to hop on the table that’s been set up and go straight to my locker, grabbing my phone.

There’s a text, and I can’t get my fingers to move fast enough to open it, my heart already racing and images of all those worst-case scenarios flashing through my mind.

Lexi

Hey Ty, I’m so sorry. I’m not going to make it tonight. I thought the morning sickness was over, but apparently not. I can barely keep anything down right now and feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I hope you see this before the game starts. Score lots of points! (Or whatever you say for football…you’ll have to teach it to me someday).

My whole body sags down onto the bench in front of our lockers, and I push my fingers through my hair, taking a long, deep breath of relief. She’s okay. Nothing happened to her.

“Ty?”

I glance over at the doc and the medic who must’ve entered after us, both of them staring at me with arched brows. “Sorry. My girl was supposed to be here today, and when she didn’t show up, I was concerned.”

The doctor frowns. “The only thing you should be concerned about right now is that shoulder. Come over here and let’s get you checked out.”

The doc examines my shoulder without all my football gear in the way and determines I tweaked it enough that he’d rather I sit out the rest of the game and let it rest. I stay in the locker room until halftime when the rest of the team comes in. Romel, Dom, and Gabe head straight for me.

“You good?” Romel asks.

“Sore shoulder. Doc wants me to sit out the rest of the game.”

“Damn,” Dom says, his brows furrowed in concern.

I point my chin the direction they came from. “How’s it going out there?”

“We’re ahead,” Gabe says.

“And we’ll stay that way. Their offense won’t get past us,” Dom adds, his tone brooking no argument.

I should be on the field with them. We’ve always had each other’s backs, and I feel like I’m letting them down because I lost my focus and let a run go south.

Gabe claps me on my nonwrapped shoulder. “Don’t worry. They won’t score on us. We’ve got it covered, okay? You just rest up for the next game.”

“What happened out there anyway?” Romel asks, fatherly concern in his gaze. I’m not sure he’d know how to shut it off even if he tried.

I grip the back of my neck and then tell them about Lexi and how I was late moving after the snap. These guys get it. Both Gabe and Dom would do anything for their women—including being distracted on the field if they thought something might be wrong—and Romel’s biggest priority is his daughter. I don’t have to explain myself, but I still feel guilty.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Gabe says. “We all would’ve been the same way.”

“When are we gonna get to meet this chick anyway?” Dom asks.

“I was hoping you’d get to meet her today, but now I don’t know. I don’t want to push her into anything until she’s ready.”

Romel watches me carefully. “You’re falling for her, aren’t you?”

I drop my gaze to the ground, not entirely sure how to answer. I’ve never been in love before, but I can’t deny the way I feel about Lexi is more intense than I’ve ever felt for another woman. I look back up, locking my gaze with Romel’s. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Of course, I won’t tell her that. Not yet. We might be having sex now—and thank fuck for that because her body calls to me in a way I’ve never experienced before—but that doesn’t mean she’s ready for me to confess all my feelings to her.

But someday soon, I hope she will be.