Chapter 11 #3
I shift on the floor, trying to find a more comfortable position.
Liam gracefully shifts the conversation away from my anxieties, and I finally breathe easy and relax against the wall—as much as I can sitting on a concrete floor.
I should have called him as soon as I felt the stress creeping in instead of letting it stew and waiting for it to go away.
Liam knows me. Knows what to do and how to calm me.
I was an idiot to ignore his messages. “Nah, too busy with training. I can’t believe you did the hike by yourself. In the rain.”
Liam groans. “I know, it was awful. Cold and wet and took ages, and when I got home, there wasn’t food and a bath waiting for me,” he says accusingly but smiles quickly.
“I’ll have to make sure you go on a hike when I’m there, then. Or you could not go on them without me.”
“True, but it worked so well last time. I thought it was the hike, but maybe,”—he shrugs and looks sheepish—“maybe it was you.”
A slow heat spreads from my chest and into my veins.
“All you need to do is call me when you want to talk. And,” I start hesitantly, “I’m sorry for ignoring some of your messages.
And not texting you myself. It was never about ignoring you or not wanting to talk to you.
I want to hear all your thoughts, especially if it means you’re going on hikes instead of talking, so when I’m ready to talk about something, I’ll let you know. I promise.”
Liam’s face flashes green, then yellow in the TV light, and he nods at me slowly. “I thought you were ignoring me.”
“I was being a moody cunt.” Liam snorts, and my goal to make him laugh is achieved. “Sorry I woke you up.”
“I needed to be up soon anyway to watch the game,” Liam says, nodding at the TV. “They’ve started interviews now.”
I scramble to my feet. “Shit, have they?”
“Not you guys, and they keep going back to the studio hosts. You’re good. Where are you?”
I yank the door open and enter the hall, jogging to where I think the sheds are. “I’m not entirely sure. It was the closest room I could find that was empty.” I round a corner I don’t remember passing and find people in black tracksuits, one of which is Daisy.
“Where the hell have you been?” she asks, storming towards me, but worry tinges her voice, masking the underlying anger.
“Sorry, I had a bit of an issue, but I’m good now.” I shift my gaze from a frowning Daisy to Liam’s frown on the camera. “I’m fine, promise. I’ll call you later, yeah?”
His frown eases. “Yeah. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and turn to Daisy.
“Was that Liam?” Her hands settle on her hips in the universal sign of anger, which reminds me too much of my mother, and I take a step back.
“Are you telling me you disappeared for a half hour to talk to Liam? Hemi, what the fuck,” she hisses.
“You need to put your boots on because Alex is ready to drag you over hot coals.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I panicked and couldn’t breathe properly.”
Her tone shifts instantly. Her hands fall to her sides, and her eyes soften.
“Oh. Are you okay? Do we need to put Peter on? If you’re not ready, that’s okay.
Alex won’t want you pushing yourself, despite the perpetual glare on his face,” Daisy mutters with a glance behind her to make sure Alex isn’t there.
I shake my head and bounce on my toes. Sitting on the ground for thirty minutes when I should be warming up does not bode well, but I’m feeling good.
“I’m fine. Liam helped. I need to do this.
To at least try. And if I keep having issues?
” I shrug and sigh. “I guess we’ll need to figure out a plan, but for now, I’m ready.
Don’t fucking put Peter on.” I point at her, and when she raises her eyebrows, I tack on a, “Please,” and soften my tone. “I have to do this.”
She narrows her eyes at me and scans my body, eyes lingering on my shoulder.
“Fine, but you better get your ass in the shed and kick some serious ass on the field. I won’t mention anything about this”—she nods down the hall—“but you know Alex won’t hesitate to sub you if it looks like we’re losing, and I’ll have to tell the others you need more support. ”
“I know. I just want to play.” Please don’t tell Alex I had a breakdown in a supply closet. He won’t let me play, and I’m feeling good. Surprisingly. I beg Daisy with my eyes to let me at least try to play, and she sighs heavily.
“Okay.”
I grin. “That’s why you’re my favourite physio.”
“There are only two of us,” she says flatly.
“Still counts.” I head for the door, but her hand on my arm stops me.
“Is Liam all good? You’re both fine?”
“He’s fine. He’s sitting all adorable on his couch with the game on.”
Daisy nods and releases me. “Good.”
I dart into the room and find my cubby and lace my boots quickly, avoiding the glares of multiple coaches and a few of the boys.
Johnny sidles up to me. “You good?” he asks.
“I’m good.” I slap my hand into his palm, and he hauls me upright. “Let’s go kick some ass.”