Royal Bastard (35 page)

“
F
ifty-two right
, twenty-four left. Ready? Break!”

I slapped my hands together as the huddle broke and the offensive line took their positions, my eyes counting the number of defensive players on the field. It was only our second time having the ball in the first quarter, having scored on our first drive. I was starting to get into my groove now, my mind already calculating the next play. I was going to go to my right, fake a throw to get the defensive to jump before throwing it across my body to my wide receiver at the thirty-yard line.

Based on how the defensive had been playing tonight we should have a pretty good shot at the end zone. That was the plan anyway. A few more plays and I would be done for the night, free to think about how I was going to seduce April back to my side. Nothing else would put a damn smile on my face like a win and winning over my girl.

I stepped up behind my center and positioned my body to receive the ball. “Red fifty-two! Red fifty-two! Hut, hut!”

I fell back into formation and ran to the right as the entire line shifted like I’d planned. I faked the throw, took a breath looking for my man, but instead of having an open shot a shadow eclipsed my sight as a defensive lineman came out of nowhere like a damn ten-ton missile.

One moment I was plotting the play, the next I was being driven to the ground hard, the impact driving my already-injured shoulder into the turf as I protected the ball to prevent a fumble. The player pushed off me, celebrating the huge sack, but I lay there as the pain shot up into my shoulder, and I knew immediately I was hurt badly. I let the ball roll out of my arms and then groaned, trying to get up, the shock wearing off to horrible pain, blinding pain.

Shit!

The team doctor appeared in my vision a minute later, a concerned but calm look on his face. Dr. Turkem had taken care of a lot of things for me over the years in terms of injuries, but this one was definitely going to take more than an ice wrap. “Stay down. Connor, talk to me,” he said, his fingers probing the arm that I gripped tightly to my chest, trying to still the pain. “Connor, can you hear me?”

“Shoulder,” I said through gritted teeth, unable to focus on anything but the pain. The pain was nearly unbearable. The hush of the crowd reached my ears instead of the dull roar I was accustomed to, the absolute worst thing a player could hear laid up on the field like this. They were worried and with the amount of pain I was experiencing, they sure as hell should be.

Damn, and it was only pre-season!

“Get the cart,” the doctor said to the others around me, confirming my worst fears. The cart didn’t come out for just any damn reason. Shit. I was done for. My career was over.

T
he minute Connor
fell to the turf my heart stopped in my chest. “He’s good,” Jay said automatically, standing up from his seat and peering down onto the field.

His wife, Polly, raised her hand up to her mouth, our conversation stopping immediately as a hush fell over the box. For a tense few moments I watched the jumbotron, willing Connor to jump up and shake it off. It was a good, solid hit and he was going to be fine.
Get up, Connor.

In a pre-season game, the starter usually only played one quarter, sometimes less so his time in the game was limited. Connor would’ve been off the field after a couple more plays… Why did this have to happen?

My thoughts had been on what we were going to talk about after the game just before he went down on the field, how I was going to approach the conversation of my feelings for him and our potential future. But now as I watched the cart come onto the field, the situation going from bad to worse in an instant, I knew there would be no dinner, no reconciliation.

“Oh no,” Polly breathed, touching Jay’s arm as he stood in front of the glass, watching the commotion on the field intently. “That can’t be good.”

I silently agreed, the nausea rising in my throat. It wasn’t good at all.

Connor, get up. Get the fuck up.

Jay looked back at his wife, reaching for his cell phone as he leaned over and gave her a kiss. “I’ve gotta go.”

“O-of course,” she said, the stunned expression still on her face over what was transpiring. I stood and grabbed his arm as he passed, feeling the tremors in my own grip. “I’m coming too.”

He gave me one glance and I could see his hesitation, which made me worry more. “Please,” I said softly. “I have to go.” He gave me a curt nod and we headed out of the box, down the elevator and out through the network of tunnels that were under the stadium. I bit my lip as Jay navigated his way through the crowds, his destination zoned in, and I prayed that Connor was okay. The cart was probably just a formality, he would be in the locker room with his shoulder on ice and that cocky smile as we walked in. I would help soothe his aches tonight, one way or another, I decided. Maybe even a massage of some sort. A bubble of laughter escaped my throat and I cleared it immediately, thinking that I had gone crazy. This entire day was making me crazy.

We reached the tunnel that connected to the locker room, the sheer size of the crowd in front of the doors staggering.

“Hold on to me.” With a determined look on his face, Jay marched up to the crowd and grabbed someone with security emblazoned on his jacket. “I need to get in.”

“No one is getting in,” he responded, crossing his arms over his chest. He was at least a five inches taller than Jay, with a menacing look on his face. Jay’s face turned red as he leaned in. “Listen here, fucker. That’s my client in there and I demand to be let in to see how he is doing. Neither you nor any other fucker out here is going to stop me.”

“I don’t care if you are the Queen of England,” the security guard grumbled, “I’m not letting you in.”

Just then the doors behind him opened and a tall, white-haired man stepped out. “Dr. Turkem,” Jay called. The doctor turned his face toward us, recognition lighting in his eyes. “Jay, I was just coming to find you.” He looked around at the crowd gathered and muscled his way through, grabbing Jay by the arm and leading him off to the side away from prying ears.

I followed, unsure of what I should do. Dr. Turkem was talking intently to Jay as I approached them, the look on Jay’s face telling me that it wasn’t good news. “He’s heading to the hospital,” I overhead the doctor saying, the roar of the crowd momentarily drowning out his words. Jay nodded to the doctor then turned back to me. “We probably should head there as well.” I bobbed my head in agreement and he said goodbye to the doctor before we headed back the way we came.

My stomach in knots, we did a series of twists and turns before coming out from under the stadium to a parking lot. Jay motioned for me to climb into a red BMW, gunning the engine and peeling out of the parking lot into traffic. I clasped my hands together and tried not to think the worst. He was going to be okay. Connor was tough and his shoulder, his throwing shoulder, was going to be okay. He might have to miss a few games, but everything would work out the way it should.

“It will probably be crazy at the hospital once the media gets there,” Jay said, shattering the silence in the car. “Just stick with me and don’t answer any questions. They will wonder why you are there, of course, but let them make their own speculations, and keep the hat on. It might help for a little while anyway.”

“Okay, I can do that,” I swallowed, remembering the swarm of media that was outside my apartment for the longest time. I was used to ignoring them, so what was a few more? I leaned back in the seat, thinking of how my earlier mood had changed so rapidly; I’d been floating on cloud nine but just as quick had been slammed hard back down to earth. I really didn’t know my place right now in this whole scenario, but I knew I needed to be there for Connor. I wished that our reunion hadn’t turned out like this; all sorts of thoughts I’d planned out in my head of how we were going to potentially spend the rest of our night had been shattered.

We pulled up to the hospital parking lot fifteen minutes later, Jay shutting off the engine and opening the driver’s side door in silence. I did the same and together we walked to the entrance both with heavy worries on our mind.

Time for the hard stuff, I thought.

* * *

T
he door opened
to the waiting room and both Jay and I jumped to our feet, the nervousness of the last few hours really starting to get to me. Jay had been on his phone for most of it, fielding media and team calls as the news slowly got out that Connor might be out for the season or even his career since no one really knew the extent of his injury. Shoulders were tricky things, it seemed.

Thank goodness we’d beat the media here and were able to secure a private waiting room away from prying eyes. It had still been a nerve-wracking two hours waiting to hear about Connor, and now we were about to find out.

“Are you here for Connor Haden?”

“We are,” Jay said, shoving a hand through his hair. He was really expecting the worst news while I held on to the fact that it might not be anything at all. I had to try and stay positive for all of us.

The doctor looked over at me but decided that I was worthy enough to hear the news as well. “He’s suffered a pretty serious rotator cuff tear. Also there’s a hairline fracture of his collarbone. I’ve got it immobilized and we are going to schedule him for surgery in the morning after some of the swelling goes down.”

Jay swore and looked at the doctor as I pushed all of the horrible feelings about his profession aside. So what if he couldn’t play football right now? The more important thing was how he was holding up with the news. “How is he, doctor?”

The doctor looked over at me, weariness etched on his face. “He’s in a lot of pain as you might imagine. I have him pretty doped up right now to control it. You can both see him if you’d like, for a few moments.”

“Thank you,” I said as the doctor exited the room. Jay turned away and kicked at one of the chairs. “Dammit. I can’t believe this.” He exhaled and got control of himself and turned towards me. “I know you think I’m being an asshole for acting this way. But I do care about Connor and his health. He’s worked his ass off to stay relevant in this business for a number of years and he was just getting his due with the endorsements that were coming his way. It’s my job to look out for his future. And now this!”

“I understand,” I replied, knowing Jay was in a tough place. The torture of what was going on was written all over his face. “And I know you care about Connor.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face, rubbing harshly at his skin. “Go on and see him. I’ve got some phone calls to make now. Tell him I’ll be in soon.”

I nodded and nervously walked out of the waiting room, down the hall that seemed to stretch on forever. The doctor was waiting in front of the double doors and led me to Connor, walking past a number of rooms before stopping. “Remember, just a few moments. He needs his rest.”

“T-thank you doctor.” I swallowed, taking a deep breath before entering the room. The sound of beeping filled the air as I took my first glimpse of Connor.

He was lying on the bed, his head supported by a pillow. There were still smudges of black under his eyes, but the immobilizer on his throwing arm pulling it tight across his chest was the real shocker. His eyes opened as I approached the bed, his lips curling into a sloppy smile. “Hey you. You’re a sight for sore eyes, beautiful. I can’t believe you came.”

“Exactly how much medicine did they give you?” I asked cheekily, perching on the chair beside him and taking his uninjured hand between mine.

“Lots,” he said, his speech slurring a bit. “It hurts like hell, April.”

“I bet,” I replied. “Don’t worry. They’ll have you fixed up like new before too long.”

He sighed and looked over at me, his eyes a little bleary. “This wasn’t how I expected to spend the night with you.”

I smiled at him, thinking about how I had thought the exact same thing. “Well, first time for everything: I’ve never had a date in a hospital before.”

He chuckled and then groaned, removing his hand from mine to clutch at his shoulder. “Damn that hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, folding my hands in my lap. “I won’t make you laugh anymore.”

He turned his gaze back toward me, his brow marred with the pain he was trying to hide. “I’m so damn glad you’re here. I’ve missed the hell out of you, April.”

“I missed you as well,” I said, reaching up with my hand to smooth his hair back off his forehead. “You gotta get well and get out of this joint so we can have that talk, okay?” I wasn’t going to tell him how I felt at this moment or demand answers to the questions that had been buzzing in my head. He needed to concentrate on getting well and not on what was going on between us, and I would be here for as long as he wanted me to be.

“Hey, April?” Connor asked, looking up at me.

“Yes?” I replied, my heart doing a slow thump in my chest.

“Will you kiss me?”

I bit my lip and checked the door to make sure no one was coming, then leaned down, brushing my lips against his. I could feel the familiar rush of warmth spreading through my body, the way my heart went pitter-patter at the softest of contact with his skin against mine. The flame hadn’t died.

“That’s not a kiss,” Connor mumbled against my lips. I pulled back and gave him a saucy smile, seeing the effects of the pain medication now starting to take a heavy toll on him. “That’s all you’re going to get, buddy, until you get out of here.”

“Something to look forward to,” he mumbled, his eyes closing. “Can’t wait.”

My smile faded as I watched him drift off to sleep. He had definitely seemed glad to see me before the game so that was a good sign for my poor, tortured heart. Leaning down again, I placed my lips onto his forehead, pulling back in time to see a grin tug on the edges of his lips as he slumbered away.

First things first, get him well. Then there would be plenty of time to sort out all of the other mess.

* * *

I
stepped
out of Connor’s private room and made my back to the waiting room, already thinking about the days, weeks, and months ahead that Connor had before him. Even though I didn’t know exactly where I stood in his life, I knew he would need help.

I pushed open the door and nodded at Jay, who was just hanging up his cell phone. “How is he?”

“He’s good,” I swallowed, forcing a smile on my face. “Same old Connor, joking and what-not.”

“Good, he’s gonna need that humor,” Jay sighed. “I guess I’ll go peek at him. Then I will get you home.”

I nodded and Jay left the room, leaving me in silence. With weak knees, I sank into the chair, the day and night’s events weighing heavily on me. Of all times, why did Connor have to get hurt now? He hadn’t even started the real season and I knew he was going to be devastated to not be part of the team when the regular games started in a few weeks.