Chapter Six

Reeve

My mouth tastes like cotton, and I still feel the groggy effects after waking up from surgery.

I stare down at the gray hospital-issued blanket lying over my legs as the blood pressure cuff tightens around my bicep and beeps as it takes its reading.

"Good, 113 over 68... you're perfect," the nurse standing next to me says.

She pulls the Velcro apart on the blood pressure cuff and then turns to input the information into the computer system next to my bed. "How are you feeling? Are you comfortable? I see in your chart that you don't want any pain medication."

She glances up at her. "That's correct. I don't need it. Pain meds mess with my performance."

Nurse Dolly snickers at my comment, and I realize that she took it a little differently than I meant it, unsure how to respond.

"Your performance huh? Well, listen there, young man. I'm always open to watching a good performance, especially from any of the members of the Hawkeyes team, but keep in clean, will you?" she winks, and I let out a chuckle.

"Get your head out of the gutter, Dolly; that's not the kind of "performance" I was referring to and you know it," I tease back.

"Just as well," she says, then leans closer with a playful smirk. "I'm partial to the old players anyway. No offense. Feel free to drop Wrenley or Coach Bex in my hospital bed any day."

Dolly's a feisty one and I'm grateful for the distraction as the weight of my injury is a little more than I care to handle right now.

"Gotta kick a man when he's down, do you?" I tell her.

That earns me another sly smile from my nurse.

"You won't be down for long, Hun. You'll be back up making highlight reel trick shots like you did last night. But I'd clear your "performing arts" with the doctor before you mess up that pretty knee of yours."

"I will. And when I'm back on the ice, maybe you can come watch me perform something a little cleaner."

"Oh don't bother saving me a seat. With a pretty face like yours I'm sure you have a girl clawing to get in your season ticket seats."

"Actually... I do have a girl you can sit with," I say, thinking about Keely and the last moment I saw her.

She was running after the gurney into the ER, her ponytail swishing back and forth to keep up with the EMTs and ER doctor.

"You're going to be okay, Reeve. I promise."

And then another nurse stopped her as they wheeled me past double doors that she could pass through with me. But at least she was safe. And that is worth whatever recovery I have ahead of me now.

"Oh yeah? Is it the pretty girl who came in with you in the ambulance?" she asks.

Has she seen her?

Has she been here and they turned her away.

"That's the one. Keely. Have you seen her? Is she okay?" I ask.

"As far as I know, she barely has a scratch on her thanks to you. I haven't seen her myself yet, but I know she's been here all night waiting for you to get out of surgery," I give her a lifted eyebrow, wondering how she knows all of this if she hasn't seen her. "The nurses talk. It's been a slow evening on this floor and we get restless. You can't blame us when we hear rumblings about a professional hockey player saving someone from a speeding vehicle," she says, clicking around on her mouse still, inputting more stuff into my chart. "It's swoon-worthy what you did tonight. If all the young nurses didn't already have crushes on you, they sure as hell do now."

I laugh and shake my head, dismissing her claim.

There's only one woman in this hospital that I hope has a crush on me like I have one on her, even though our timing is shit. But she stayed. he's still here.

"They'll get bored and move on... especially if I can't play anymore," I say, the gravity of that possibility a little more than I can handle.

Dr. Morgan was here when I woke up and told me that I'd be able to play again in nine months if I play my cards right, but at what level? An NHL level? Or Peewee hockey level?

"You're lucky, you know," she continues, breaking the silence as she organizes my chart. "You're young, and your body will heal faster than you think. Doctors do the best they can but they don't have a crystal ball. Just give it time."

"Yeah, time…" I say absently, staring out the window where the beginning of sunlight is starting to filter through clouds as the sun rises, casting a golden glow across the sky.

"You'll be back to playing in no time," she assures me, though I can hear the heaviness in her voice.

She talks a good game, but she can't give me any assurance. Not more than I can give myself.

"What if I can't play at the level I used to be able to?" The words slip out before I can catch them. They linger in the air between us, heavy and unwelcome.

Dolly glances at me, her expression shifting from empathy to something deeper, a recognition perhaps. "Then you find something new and exciting. Life is full of second acts. Trust me."

The sound of knuckles tapping against my hospital room door has Dolly and I both glancing over.

I see Sam and Coach Bex walk into my room and I wait impatiently for Keely to follow behind. Luckily, I don't have to wait long before she walks through the door. Her eyes quickly scan the room until they find mine.

I let out an exhale.

Seeing her safe again has my chest filling with emotion.

Though she appeared fine when I last saw her, I wasn't in the right frame of mind to process the information as well as I can now.

"Hi," she says, almost with a timid tone.

"Hi," I say back.

I want her to run to me.

I want her to crawl up on the bed beside me and wrap herself under the blanket with me.

It's been a long fucking day, and all I want right now is to feel her breathing and be close enough to see the pink hue in her cheeks and the freckles over her nose. My heart races as I take in the sight of her still wearing my hoodie, and suddenly, it feels like everything else that mattered has diminished in importance compared to just having her here.

She looks just a little bit like mine.

Sam walks over to the left side of my bed, staying out of Dolly's way on my right, and Coach Bex is standing at the end of my bed.

"You gave us a scare there for a minute," Sam says.

My gaze shifts between Sam and Coach Bex before returning to Keely. The warmth of her presence fills the room in a way that makes everything else fade into the background.

"How are you feeling after surgery? Dr. Morgan told us that it went well," Coach Bex says.

"Like I've been run over by a car," I joke lightly but instantly regret it when the pain kicks back in and I wince.

My eyes find Keely again, and I can see that my pain hurts her too. A shimmer with unshed emotion in her eyes.

"Hey... I'm going to be okay. Just like you told me I would be," I say, offering up my hand for her to take.

She flashes a look at Sam and Bex but then heads straight for me and takes my hand.

The memory of her holding my hand while I lay on the wet black asphalt and then again, the entire ride to the hospital flash through my memory.

"I was so scared," she whispers, biting her lower lip. "When you pushed me out of the way…and then you..."

There's guilt in her eyes, but there shouldn't be.

"Keely, what happened last night wasn't your fault. I hope you know that." I interrupt gently, wanting to erase that memory from her mind as much as my own. "You're safe now. That's what matters. I'd do it a thousand times over just to keep you away from harm."

An understanding passes between us, and I can see her shoulders relax just a fraction. I roll my thumb over her hand and the warmth in her cheeks flushes deeper—a thrill rushing through me at the sight of being able to soothe her, even if it's a small amount.

"Reeve," Coach Bex speaks up, drawing my focus towards him. "We need to discuss your rehabilitation. Dr. Morgan says that we should get you working with a physical therapist as soon as possible to give us the best results in your rehabilitation."

I'm relieved that Coach Bex wants to get right to work. He's not the kind of person to give false hope. The fact that he thinks it's worth trying to get me the best care to get me back on the ice instills new confidence in me. And I believe him more than I believe anyone else.

"Okay, what's the plan?" I ask, hopeful.

Dolly moves around the room. Sam steps back and out of her way as she comes over to my left side and pulls the blanket up over my knee to check the dressing around it.

When she seems pleased with it, she lays the blanket back down gently and smiles up at me.

"I'll leave you four to chat while I go check on some other patients. I'll be back soon to check on you, okay? No impromptu performances while I'm gone. I don't want to miss anything good; it's the only perk of this job," she teases and then turns to leave.

"Thanks, Dolly," I say.

"The plan is for the Hawkeyes to bring on a full-time physical therapist to help you. You'll have daily one-on-one sessions to get you back in the best shape we can. Penelope checked and there is an open apartment down the hall from you in The Commons. We're moving her in so that she's around for your recovery."

"You're moving her in down the hall? Is that necessary?" I ask.

I feel Keely's hand go a little slack in mine. She's not holding on as tight as she was.

"We think so," Sam says, and I'm drawn back to the urgency in his tone. "And you're getting Keely."

My heart leaps at the mention of her name, and I can't help the way my gaze snaps to hers. There's a moment of silent acknowledgment, a shared understanding of what this could mean for both of us. Her freckled cheeks flush brighter, and for an instant, I forget where I am—the hospital, the accident, the looming specter of uncertainty surrounding my return to the ice.

I can see the spark of determination igniting within her. "As long as you're okay with it," she says to me. "I've worked with an athlete who had a similar injury and I know exactly how I would start your recovery. But if you want someone else--"

"No," I say, quickly. I know that I need to put all of my focus on recovering so that I can get back on the ice, but getting to work that close with Keely while I recover will make it easier to put a relationship aside until I recover, or at least I hope it makes things easier. "I trust you. But what about your interview today?"

I don't want her to give up a good job just for me.

"I left her a voicemail when you went into surgery to let her know that I wouldn't be able to make our appointment due to an emergency."

"And I'm glad she did because we poached her," Sam smiles over at Keely.

"Good, then it's settled," Coach Bex adds with a nod. "I need to get back to the stadium and update the coaching staff and players. Keely, I leave you in charge. If you can get him back to at least practicing with the team in a couple of months, hopefully, he'll be strong enough to start next season for us."

"Wait, what? Next season?"

"Yes," Sam assures, glancing at me with a hint of pride in his eyes. "We don't want you to overdo it. If you reinjure your knee, we could lose our shot at getting you back on the ice at all."

Silence washes over us as Keely takes a deep breath, seeming to weigh the pressure put on her shoulders, but she doesn't look like she intends to back out. Finally, she looks down at me, the light catching her auburn hair, her green eyes locking on mine.

"Six weeks. I only need six weeks." I tell them, something in Keely's eyes tells me that I need to make this happen.

"Are you sure about this?" she says softly.

I stare back into her eyes.

I'm sure about one thing... Keely Woods is about to change my life forever.

"Put me in, coach."