Page 48 of Until He Scores

“I feel like I should be apologizing for him,” I said, guilt snaking around my throat.

“Pfft,” she snorted. “This was Thierry. He got set up by a friend of a friend, or better yet a snake of a friend of a friend.”

“The pop star?” I quirked a brow.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head and a muffled chuckle. “Tabby isn’t like that. You’ll see when you meet her. No, this was the wife of an actor who set them up. Witches and bitches stick together. You know how that goes.”

Honestly, I did.

“We’ve been trying to end this cursed relationship for six years. Thierry finding Derrick cheating was the last straw.” She made an exasperated sound. “Can you believe that asshole tried to blame Thierry? I swear people like Derrick are always trying to get ahead of the publicity.”

“They’re not back together?” I hedged as the doors to the elevator opened on Thierry’s floor.

Lily-Mae wrinkled her nose. “No. Derrick was trying to get back together with Thierry. Somehow, someone told him where Thierry was working and where he lived—just not the apartment complex, thank God.”

Guess I’d made an ass of myself again. “Oh.”

“Look, he might not have said it directly to you, but he really likes you. Always has. For what it’s worth, and I know he should say this. Er—I shouldn’t be meddling where I don’t belong, but I fear he won’t tell you. He got scared after your night together. Thought you’d wake up and realize you’d made a mistake.”

I exhaled. “Because of last time. Fuck.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Just promise you’ll talk to him, okay?”

“I will.” I promised.

Thierry

Two things became apparent at once. The beeping noise coming from somewhere in the room I was in irritated the hell out of me. Second, I wasn’t at home, nor was I at the arena anymore. I eased my eyes open. The soft glow of amber lighting gave the space a dim glow. I tried to rub my blurry eyes, only to hiss as something pinched my hand.What the fuck happened to me?

“Easy, Thier. You’ve had us all worried about you.” Pope... I sank into the pillows and blankets as embarrassment and rejection filled me. Why was he here?

“Pope,” I croaked, then coughed, my throat dry and my lips chapped.

“Here, drink,” he said, putting a straw to my lips. I did as he asked, basking in the cold water sliding down my throat. “You have a ton of questions, I bet. So, I’ll start from the beginning. You’re at Vanderbilt Hospital. You passed out at the game.”

Sounded about right for the first part. Then I popped my eyes open. “Va—” I coughing jag hit me, taking my breath away. When I caught my breath, I sucked down a bit more water Pope offered me. “Vanderbilt Hospital? What happened?”

“The infection in your knee hadn’t gone away, like you and Dr. Jay thought it had,” Pope said.

Fear seized my throat. I glanced down at myself, then exhaled in relief when I saw both of my legs still intact. However, Dr. Jay had elevated and wrapped my left knee. “That sucks.”

“For you, yeah,” he murmured. “You had staph in your knee, man. No one knew. No way for you to even realize it until you got sick and the infection made an appearance on the outside of your knee.”

“I pushed aside the signs though,” I whispered, still too tired to speak louder.

“Dr. Jay said with all you’d been through; you’d have thought it was normal.”

I nodded, trying to get comfortable even as the lines pulled in my hands, and my leg felt too heavy to lift. “So, what now?”

A knock came at the door and Dr. Jay walked in as if he magically knew I’d just woken up. “Good, you’re awake. How do you feel?” His exhaustion and chipperness confused me. The man always seemed to be in a good mood, no matter what happened.Does he ever have a bad day?

“Just woke up,” I murmured. “I don’t know how I feel. What happened?”

“I was just about to tell him when you walked in,” Pope said.

“Ah,” Dr. Jay said, grabbing a chair to sit on. “Then we’ll start from the beginning and you’re going to tell me what happened the other night.”

“Other night?” Confusion filled me. “How many days have I been here?”

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