CHAPTER 25 #2
I help Casey to stand to complete Tim’s balance tests and coordination assessments, but he passes them all.
“Okay good, Calloway,” Tim says as Casey sits back on the bed. “Now repeat to me the five words I gave you when we came into the rooms.”
“Monkey, apple, bubble, tiger, purple,” Casey replies, just a bare hint of smugness to his tone.
“No sign of impact to the head or neck,” Ben finally declares from his detailed scrutiny of the vision. I let out a sigh of relief.
“Great. Can I get back on the ground now?” Casey asks, edging off the table until Tim halts his progress.
“Sorry, Calloway. You’re in concussion protocol,” he says. “That’s a mandatory fifteen minutes before you’re cleared.”
“But that will be the entire third quarter,” Casey whines.
“Exactly,” Tim replies. “Thornfield here is going to babysit you for the rest of the quarter. I’ll be back to clear you before you can move from this room.”
“Fine,” Casey says, slumping on the bed.
“Keep him warm,” Tim adds to me as he and Ben return to the field until it’s just Casey and me in the room.
He’s watching me, expression guarded. I know I haven’t done a great job of keeping my emotions in check tonight. That I kind of lost my head a bit watching Casey take a hit like that. I let out a deep sigh as I lean against the treatment bed.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
“Fuck, Casey. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” I admit.
“Cut out for what?”
“I don’t know, being a WAG or whatever,” I chuff, relieved when he laughs. “Honestly. I was out of my head for a bit there. Could hardly breathe.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” Casey says, grin on his face. “But I’m okay, H. And now it’s out of the Dragon’s system. We can all move on now they’ve got what they came for.”
“I’m still a bit shaken to be honest,” I admit. I let my pinkie finger curl around his on the bed.
“There’s cameras in here,” he points out, reminding me of something I should have known as I quickly withdraw my hand.
“What about the treatment room?” I ask casually.
Casey doesn’t respond so I glance up at him, seeing the heat in his eyes as he looks across at me. It’s like we both make our minds up at the same time as he slides off the bed and we rush to the treatment room.
I’m on him the moment the door is closed behind us, all the emotions and fear and worry pouring out of me into the kiss as I clutch his head in my hands.
I’m breaking all my own rules, all the boundaries I set to keep our private life away from the club.
But I am helpless right now, needing to feel his heartbeat under my hand, needing to feel that energy and awareness that is all my Casey.
He's just as desperate as he kisses me back, hands in my hair as we tangle our tongues with each other. It’s a greedy, all-consuming kiss that merges our bodies and reminds us that we’re alive and okay.
Maybe I’ve caught some of Casey’s dramatics because I have never felt so out of control in all my life as I do right now while a game of football plays out above our heads.
I’m a second away from dropping to my knees when the sound of a door closing jolts me back into consciousness. I pull away from Casey, both of us panting as he stares back at me, glassy eyed and utterly debauched as it dawns on us what we have just done.
“Thornfield? Calloway?” Tim calls from the club room.
I clear my throat, pushing away from Casey. What the hell was I thinking? Kissing him like that in the middle of a game. My eyes trail down his body to the prominent erection on display. There’s no hiding that thing in those football shorts.
“Get on the bed,” I hiss.
“At least buy me dinner first,” Casey chuffs as he dives onto his stomach, hiding the evidence from view just as Tim opens the door. I have no doubt my face is flushed and I’m breathing like I’ve run an ultra-marathon, but the good doctor doesn’t notice as he steps over to Casey.
I belatedly step back to the bed, pretending as though I am just here treating my star patient like I should have been doing as Tim holds Casey’s eyes, checking for signs of delayed concussion.
“Got those words for me?” he asks.
“Something about monkeys and tigers?” Casey grins. Tim just raises a brow at him and Casey sighs. “Monkey, apple, bubble, tiger, purple,” he repeats.
“Good. Follow my finger,” Tim says. I’m relieved he can do these exercises with Casey on his stomach. “Alright, good. I’m clearing you to play.”
“Excellent,” Casey says, immediately shifting out from under me.
“Nope. Coach wants you down here until the last quarter,” Tim explains. “There’s only two minutes left, and he wants you fresh.”
“What’s the score?” Casey asks.
Tim hesitates before he says, “Devereux kicked your penalty goal, but the Dragon’s piled on three straight goals while you were down here.”
“Dammit,” Casey groans. I feel his pain. I want the win for the Fever just as bad as he does.
Tim leaves and Casey shares a guilty smile with me.
Yeah, we just got away with murder and we both know it.
I should feel regret, but I don’t. I can’t.
This is the kind of thing I’m going to have to get used to if I continue this thing with Casey—watching him take hits like that to his body.
It won’t be the last time he takes a hit, and I know I’m going to have to be better prepared for next time.
Casey climbs off the bed and stalks towards me, pinning me up against the wall as we hear the third quarter siren blare from the ground above.
“Later, Harrison,” he says, nothing but heat and intent in his pretty eyes. “You don’t leave here without me tonight, okay?”
I can only nod, words evaporated again as Casey eyes me one final time before he leaves me standing there, a mixture of emotions and my mind like molten lava.