Chapter 9 Emmett
NINE
EMMETT
“Hayes!” Coach Hendricks shouts as I look at my empty hands like they just betrayed me. “What the hell was that? Dane has been hitting you in the numbers all day, yet you’re dropping passes left and right! If you don’t want to be here, get off my field!”
“Sorry, Coach,” I mumble through my mouth guard, hanging my head as I return to the end of the line. We’ve been doing passing drills for the last half hour, but I can’t seem to keep my mind from wandering to Stella.
It’s been nearly a week since I laid eyes on her for the first time in over seven years, and like an addict that’s been brought back to their drug of choice after so long of being clean and sober, I haven’t been able to think about anything else.
I’ve even dropped by Austin’s house twice since then.
I’m not really sure why, but I just felt drawn there, so I went.
I’m guessing she was either avoiding me or just giving him privacy, because she didn’t come into the main house either time…
but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel her there.
No matter how much I try to push the memory of that day away, it’s on replay in my head.
Every time I close my eyes, her bright brown ones are staring right back at me, filled with an emotion I don’t dare try to ascertain.
I like to think I know who she is at her roots better than anyone—I’ve experienced just as many of her good moments as I have her bad ones—but the thing I can’t figure out is if the look of sadness on her face was due to the pain of seeing me, or just a response to my cold demeanor and the words I couldn’t stop myself from spitting like venom at her.
Should I have? Probably not. But she was the very last person I expected to see, and I didn’t have time to think about how my reaction would affect either of us—because here I am, unable to catch an easy pass, my mind still drifting back to the exchange.
“You’ve got this, Hayes,” Jett says, slapping the top of my helmet as I step up to the line.
Maddox yells out his cadence, and I take off, running my route as I wait for him to fire the ball my way.
Thankfully, I’m more aware this time, so I’m ready when it hits me, closing my fingers around the textured leather and continuing toward the sideline.
“Better!” Coach yells, soothing my frazzled nerves just slightly.
My personal life may be a mess right now, but I need to stay focused on doing my job, so they don’t send me packing like the other teams did.
He blows his whistle, signaling the end of practice as we all gather our things and head toward the locker room.
I quickly shower, wrapping a towel around my waist and returning to where Theo stands, pulling off his pads.
“Everything all right?” he says, unwinding the athletic tape from his wrist and adding it to the growing ball at the top of his locker.
Just another weird quirk of his, hanging onto the used, dirty tape instead of throwing it away, claiming it’s good luck.
I learned very quickly not to question the shit he does, because the answer will always be more confusing than the act itself.
“Yeah,” I reply, scrubbing a hand down my face.
“Just a little off my game this week. I’ll bounce back.
” He’s a good guy, very trustworthy from what I can tell, but I’m not ready to talk about everything that’s been going on.
Hell, I’ve barely even unpacked my own thoughts, so how will I articulate them to someone else?
I used to be great at expressing my emotions, always wearing my heart on my sleeve, but I’m not that guy anymore.
Now, it’s not as easy for me to trust people in that way.
I’ll get there eventually, but I’m still a work in progress.
“I stopped by Baker’s earlier this week, but he was getting ready for physical therapy, so we didn’t have long.
He seems to be in better spirits now, doesn’t he?
” His words make me freeze where I stand.
Did he meet Stella? Did she stay away from the main house while he was there, like she has with me?
I can’t stop the questions from bursting out of my mouth as though they have a mind of their own.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Maybe that new nurse of his is keeping him motivated. Did you meet her?” I feel pathetic, fishing for information like this.
It shouldn’t matter to me at all if any of my other teammates have met her.
She doesn’t belong to me, and it’s none of my business who she talks to.
But that doesn’t stop the rage from bubbling up inside me when I think of her smiling at them, while all I got was despondence.
“Nah,” he says, making every muscle in my body go slack with relief.
“He said she wanted him to feel like his life hadn’t changed so drastically, so she stays in her own space when people come to visit.
” A grin tugs at one corner of his mouth.
“I wonder what kind of motivation she’s giving him.
What if she’s hot as fuck, and they end up banging each other’s brains out during his daily sponge bath? ”
My blood runs cold, flowing like ice through my veins as I consider what he’s saying.
Realistically, I know Austin isn’t in bad enough shape to need help bathing.
I’m sure he did while he was in the hospital with his broken ribs, but Stella wasn’t with him then.
The last time I saw him, he was resting his arm on the back of the couch, so clearly, he’s not having any issues with lifting it.
But the irrational part of me—the one that still thinks he has some sick claim on his ex-wife—wants to tear the walls off this place right now.
Teammate or not—injured or not—if he touches her, I’ll lose my goddamn mind.
Without a word, I rip off the towel, throw on some clothes, grab my bag, and rush out of the room.
I’m on autopilot, walking straight to my truck and not giving a single fuck about anyone else around me as I blow out of the parking lot of the practice facility.
I’m pretty sure I black out on my way to Austin’s house, only coming back to reality when I’m keying in the entry code he gave me last week and making my way down the driveway much faster than I probably should.
Like an absolute psychopath, I throw the vehicle into park and leap out, not even bothering to cut the ignition before I’m rushing up the steps and entering a house that doesn’t belong to me, completely uninvited.
I round the corner of the entryway, stopping in my tracks as I see Stella leaning over my teammate—my fully-clothed teammate, save for the one arm that’s hanging out of his hoodie.
She whips around, her eyes going as wide as saucers while I stand there, breathing like I just ran the goddamn Boston Marathon.
“Hayes?” Austin questions, brows furrowing in confusion as he peeks out from behind her. “Did we have plans today?”
I take in the scene, heart rate gradually slowing when I see a bandage in one of her hands, the other hovering above the stitches that run along his shoulder.
Her gloved fingertip shines with what looks to be an antibiotic ointment, and all of a sudden, I feel like a fucking idiot for busting in here like some kind of unhinged FBI agent.
What in the fresh hell is wrong with me?
“I…um…” I trail off, no idea how to explain myself.
“No, but I thought I’d drop by in case you needed anything.
I was in the area.” Stella swallows, her gaze locking onto mine for just a split second before she returns to her task.
I don’t miss the way her hand shakes as she gently rubs the medication onto his skin.
“I must’ve really been zoning out,” he says with a laugh.
“I didn’t even hear the doorbell.” Stella chokes on a cough, knowing damn well I didn’t ring it, but thankfully just continues working, covering the wound before pulling her gloves off and shoving them into the pocket of her pink scrubs.
Reaching over him again, she lifts the sleeve of his hoodie, earning an exasperated eye roll as he carefully guides his arm inside.
I can’t tear my eyes off her, noticing the way she winces when she stands to her full height.
Her hand shoots to her lower back, rubbing at the muscle before twisting from side to side.
My instinct is to ask if she’s okay. Something is clearly wrong, but I know it’s not my place to dig…
or to tell her to sit down like I want to.
If I know her like I think I do, she’s putting all her energy into Austin’s recovery, forgetting to slow down for her own well-being in the process.
She used to do the same thing to me every time I got injured on the field.
It’s how I knew she’d make a phenomenal nurse.
It seems like a million years ago.
“I’ll leave you to visit,” she murmurs, barely loud enough for me to hear from where I’m standing across the room.
“There’s a load of towels in the dryer, but don’t touch it.
I don’t want you tweaking anything. I’ll take care of them in the morning, unless you need me before then. I’ll have my phone on me.”
He nods. “You’re the best, Stell.” My heart cracks in my chest at his use of her nickname, knowing that he has every right to use it, but I don’t.
In fact, she doesn’t even glance my way as she turns toward me, eyes down at her feet while she walks past and right out of the room.
It fucking sucks that we’re here, but after the way I talked to her last week, I’m not surprised that she doesn’t want to look at me.
That day, I was positive it was what I wanted—for her to know I didn’t give a shit about her.
To show her that I couldn’t stand the sight of her.
But now? Seeing her in pain and not being able to help is making me realize that staying away is going to be much harder than I thought.