Page 137 of Rookie Attraction

“But as soon as the game’s over, I’m heading to the hospital to see Finn.”

“Not in the morning? I figured a bunch of us would go together. They might be conducting tests on him tonight.”

I shake my head.

“I don’t care.”

“Then a couple of us will join you.”

“He’s my defensive partner—” I start.

“Sel.” Berg looks around and then back at me. “We’re going with you and that’s final. In case any reporters follow us to the hospital, right?”

I shrug, not sure what he’s getting at. He raises one eyebrow.

“I saw your face when it happened for fuck’s sake,” he whispers. “Don’t join any poker games.”

He knows. Shit, he knows about my feelings for Finn.

And that I lied to him when he asked me about the rumor back in Seattle. Another rush of sweat slides down my spine. Say nothing, say nothing. Wait, did anyone else…

“I was facing you. It was a split second, but I saw it,” Berg adds. “Or maybe I didn’t. Chaos erupted, so I could be wrong. Look, I know you guys are tight, and that’s good, but if there is something else going on, you better figure it out and deal with it before someone else does.”

“I’m fine, everything’s fine,” I quickly deny, swallowing hard. “Your idea’s good. We’ll go to the hospital as a group. I’m sure Finn will want to see you and the others.”

Berg nods and that’s the end of our conversation. He starts to walk away, and I follow. I don’t have time to panic over what happened because I need to get hydrated. Back in the locker room, I head straight for the bathroom and get a look at my face. My lower lip is swollen, cracked, and still bleeding, and the right side of my jaw is slightly swollen and turning purple. I’m fine, nothing I can’t handle. I wash whatever blood I can off my face and hands, but as soon as I step back into the room, one of our medical staff checks me over, offers me Gatorade and an ice pack, and tapes my lip.

“I’ve had worse.” I grumble. “I’m okay.”

Physically, I am. Emotionally, I’m a wreck.

I walk past Finn’s messy stall and pause when I spot Biscuit, his good luck charm.

We’re going to kick their ass for you, Finn. Promise.

Finn

Medical staff escort me off the ice and the pain in my shoulder is so intense my eyes water. The only thing I can communicate with is swear words. But even with all that, my mind turns to Sel. I hate knowing he’s still out there and I’m not around to watch his back. How bad is the rest of the game going to get? What if they go after him next? What if it’s worse? On the ride to the hospital, my anxiety cycle spins and spins.

By the time I arrive, and they get me checked in, my shoulder doesn’t hurt as bad. It’s shock. That or someone already gave me good drugs. No, it’s gotta be shock. While the pain recedes, the memory of that play rebounds in my head. I heard Sel shouting, and then I can’t remember after that.

Suddenly, I’m in agony again, and it feels like needles stabbing my shoulder all the way down my arm. What if I have a fracture? I could be out for months. The rest of the season…

Don’t panic, stay calm.

It’s not long before I’m whisked into another section of the hospital where doctors ask me question after question and send me for X-rays and an MRI. Not only my arm, but my head too, even though I never lost consciousness. I don’t have a headache either, and I’m not nauseous or confused.

When I’m done with all the tests, I get settled in my room. They put my arm in a sling with ice packs on my shoulder, hook up an IV to the other for hydration, and give me ibuprofen. Some of the pain subsides after a while, so I close my eyes and rest, wishing Sel was here.

A few hours later, groggy but alert enough to understand what the medical team is saying to me, they give me the rundown; shoulder separation, but no concussion. It’s not great news, but it’s not the worst-case scenario either. The next four weeks is all about ice packs, pain meds, rest, followed by physiotherapy. The estimated timeline for healing is pretty good, all things considered. I’m not happy about being out of commission for a while, but it is what it is.

Once I’m alone again, I slowly reach over with my usable hand to grab my phone. Scrolling for updates on the game, I read the New York Sports Now headline: Fury unleashed as the Rush defeat the Bandits in a fierce 3–0 shut out! Yes! My relief turns to nausea as I watch clips of the hit and then the ones of Sel and Donaldson fighting. Sel gets in the first punch, smashing Donaldson’s nose, but my gut churns as I watch Sel get punched in return, his lip swollen, blood on his face. I’ve witnessed or been a part of many on-ice altercations, but nothing is worse than this. Never mind the pain my shoulder, I feel like my heart might shatter if I ever watch that again.

No shit, because you’re head over skates in love with Sel and you can’t stand to see him hurt.

I’m what?

I’m in love with Sel. Completely, utterly in love.