Backcheck Heart: An L.A. Crush Hockey Novella (Nashvellas & Novels)

Chapter 21

A throbbing headand aching body greet me as I wake up. “Bright,” I rasp.

I let out a sigh of relief as the lights dim. “Welcome back,” Andre’s familiar voice says. “You gave us quite the scare.”

“Where is Morgan?”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Worry about resting up. Kragen gave you one hell of a wallop. I imagine he will be suspended for several games. Shameful to slash a player when his helmet is off.”

“He slashed me?” What an asshat.

“Right on the back of the skull. Knocked you out cold. The doctors think it’s only a grade-three concussion. All in all, it could be worse.”

“Where is Morgan?” I repeat.

“So worried about the bimbo,” I think he mutters under his breath. My eyes shoot open wide at that.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Nothing. What was Krager chirping about to rile you up at the beginning of the match? You were more aggressive than usual.”

“He was talking shit about my girl.” I lose my composure when his face twists in disgust. “What is your deal? Do you have a problem with Morgan? Is that why she isn’t here?”

That question makes him nervous. “I don’t have a problem with her per se. I wish if you were going to get into that kind of relationship, you would have let me help pick someone more suitable.”

“That ‘kind of relationship?’ What are you talking about? Morgan isn’t a ‘kind of’ anything. She’s the woman I love and plan to spend the rest of my life with. I’m going to ask her to move in with me after the season ends.”

“Don’t say that,” he groans. “If I would have realized you were in this deep, I would have taken more drastic measures. We need to get her to sign an NDA. Do not move her in with you without letting me draw a contract up first to protect your assets. Though, I’m sure a few months of seeing her before she dolls up for the day will knock some sense into you. It’s never as glamorous behind the curtain.”

Am I more concussed than I think? Surely, he isn’t saying what I think he’s saying. He sounds like the exact flavor of asshole who hurt her self-esteem. And what does he mean by drastic measures?

Suddenly, everything clicks in my head. “Did you send that woman to my room in Baltimore?”

“‘Send’ is a strong word. I might have procured a key but didn’t lead her there myself.”

“You practically did!” With that tidbit of information, more thoughts unlock.

“And are you the reason we’ve been followed lately and hit pieces about Morgan are popping up in those rags?”

Though I’ve done my best to distract her, articles about Morgan have been rampant in the LA gossip magazines the past two weeks. They’ve spanned from completely off-base speculation to interviews with old “boyfriends” calling her names or saying that she cheated on them with me. I suspect our buddy Chet is responsible for that last one.

When he doesn’t answer, I know I hit the nail on the head.

“Why would you do that? I have been a model client for you since day one!”

“Exactly! And ever since she came into your life, you’ve changed. You hid her from me when you first got together, you’re chummier with your teammates, and you’re out on the town, visiting her at that club.”

“You’re mad that I’m happy?” My head hurts way too much to be having this conversation right now.

“You’re not following the plan.”

“What plan? You’re the one who wanted me in a relationship, so I looked committed to LA.”

“Committed but not rooted down,” he counters. “I wanted you to get with someone high profile who could elevate your status beyond the league. It would have led to more endorsements and forced the Crush to up their offer to ensure you didn’t end up signing elsewhere. Your payday would have been huge.”

“You mean is, YOUR payday would be huge.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to.”

“How about ‘Tomato, you’re fired.’”

“What?” He pales. “You can’t fire me. You’re in no mental state to do that.”

“I can, and I did. If I need to tell you again in a few days, I will. But get the hell out of my hospital room. I need to find my phone and call my girl. She’s gotta be worried sick.”

“No need,” Tabby declares as she charges in. A stricken Morgan trails behind her. She freezes as she stares through Andre and takes me in.

“This is all your fault,” he seethes at her.

“Get. Out,” I growl. With one final, hateful glare, he leaves the room. I rub my temples. Arguing was not the best thing to do for my headache, but it had to be done. The motion spurs Tabby into action. She fiddles with the monitors before grabbing my chart to read over. Morgan stays rooted in place.

“Come here, baby,” I coo. I may be injured, but that won’t stop me from taking care of her. She appears to need to lay down as much as I do.

“You got hurt,” she whispers, ignoring however much of the fight with Andre she overheard.

“I did. But I’m okay now,” I assure her.

“He is,” Tabby chimes in. “All his tests came back clear, but they’re keeping him overnight for observation.”

“I saw them wheel you off the ice,” Morgan replies as if she didn’t hear either of us. The tremble of her bottom lip makes me want to jump out of this bed to comfort her, but one glance at Tabby tells me she won’t let me do that.

“Zlatí?ko,” I say with as much force as possible without hurting my head further. “Come closer. I want to touch you, and you can see for yourself that I’m okay.”

She takes one tentative step forward before breaking out of her trance and scurrying onto the bed. The tension leftover from my argument with Andre seeps out of my body as I hold her in my arms.

“I’ll give you two some privacy and shoot the guys an update,” Tabby whispers.

I nod in thanks, not taking my eyes off Morgan. I shift until her torso is pressed against my chest, hips between my legs. I run a soothing hand up and down her back as she soaks my gown with her tears. When her sobs turn into sniffles, I kiss the top of her head gently.

“What?” I ask as she murmurs something I can’t understand against my chest.

Leaning onto her elbows, she meets my gaze. “I love you.”

A wide grin breaks out across my face. “Who knew getting bashed in the head is all it would take to get you to admit your feelings for me.”

“Not funny!”

“It’s a little funny. And I love you, too.” Leaning down as much as the position allows, I gently press my lips into hers. I want to devour her whole, but my throbbing head puts the brakes on that.

The fact is, I’ve been trying to figure out how to express my love for her for a while, but it always seemed too soon or the wrong moment to tell her. Now that she’s pulled the trigger, I want to use every breath to tell her how much I care.

“You enchanted me from that very first night, and I’ve never been the same. Every moment we’re together is the best of my life, and every minute we’re apart, I am counting down until you’re back in my arms.”

“That’s way more poetic than my tearful ‘I love you,’” she grumbles.

Laughing, I give her one more chaste kiss before guiding her head back to my chest. When her adrenaline wears off, she sleeps soundly in my arms. She doesn’t even stir when the doctors check on me or when the guys finally make it to the hospital.

Despite the fogginess of my head, everything is right with the world.