Page 14 of Scored

Vee nibbled her lower lip. “If we can get inside seats.”

“I’ll see what strings I can pull.” I pulled the truck into a parking space. “Six years playing for them should get me something.” I leaned across the console. “Kiss me.”

Her lips curled. “Bossy.”

“Kiss me here or I’ll kiss you once we’re inside. The choice is yours.”

Vee brought her nose millimeters from mine. “Fin, I don’t have any say—none—about who is on the IR and who isn’t. I can’t tell the medical staff what to do.”

“You can attest to my superior ability to provide orgasms without my left hand.”

A giggle bubbled from her lips. “I could, but I won’t. The rest of the season is up to the professionals.”

“Kiss me.”

Leaning closer, our lips united.

With my right hand, I cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer as my tongue teased the seam of her lips. A moan filled the cab as our tongues tangoed. When we pulled apart, I ran my thumb over her swollen lips. “I like seeing your lips swollen from my kiss.”

We tilted our foreheads together.

“I really don’t know how late I’ll be working,” Vee said. “When you’re done with Lacy, the medical staff, and trainers, call or come to my office. If I have more to do, you can head home. I can Uber.”

I shook my head. “Ms. Hubbard, you are not taking an Uber. I can keep busy at Maker’s Mark until you’re ready to leave.”

“Stubborn.”

“So I’ve been told…repeatedly.”

Unbuckling her seat belt, Vee reached for her leather bag and opened the door. Our breath came out in small clouds of vapor as we walked toward the entrance. While we entered together, the ladies at the front reception desk didn’t say a word.

Vee and I nodded to one another as she turned toward the executive offices, and I made my way toward the medical facility. The amber carpeting continued as I passed empty meeting rooms, reminding me of Tuesdays when Troy and I would meet for weights.

As I entered the training facility, I found more of my teammates. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with an injury. I waved to Kylon Lewis, one of our wide receivers. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing. I’m just here because I hate sleep.”

A scoff came from my lips. “Yeah, me too.”

“My ankle,” he said. “X-ray says it’s not broken. Next is an ultrasound.” He jutted his chin toward me. “How’s the shoulder?”

“Honestly, it hurt like a motherfucker when it happened. They x-rayed it in Houston. Since they popped it back into place, it’s not that bad.” I tilted my head to the left. “I have to wear this cooling wrap for the next few days. I don’t know how long I’ll have this chic fashion accessory.”

“You make it look good,” Kylon said before asking, “What about playing?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out.”

“There you are, Fin,” Lacy Reynolds called from the doorway of one of the evaluation rooms. “Come on back. I heard all about your heroics last night.”

I waved again to Kylon and walked toward Lacy. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, that’s what you always say. Let’s get a better look at that shoulder.” She closed the door.

“You know I’m right-handed, right?”

She opened her laptop. “Here’s the x-ray they took yesterday. The good news is that you had an anterior dislocation.” She pointed at the screen. “You can see the loss of congruency between the humeral head—the ball of your upper arm—and the glenoid—the socket of your shoulder blade.”

“That was before. Now they’re congruent.”