Page 121 of Scoring the Player
I start to think it over, then stop thinking ’cause there’s no way in hell he’ll win.“Deal.”
Salem
I tense as I stop drying myself. “Drowned?” I blink rapidly, wrapping the towel around my waist.
The need to know what happened to him when he called out sick weeks ago never let up. Especially after the first time I asked and he froze up. It was the first thing I thought of when I negotiated the terms of the race.
He rubs the back of his neck, staring at the floor.
“Did you tell anyone?”
He waves it off. “Wasn’t a big?—”
“No.” I stop him. “You almost dying will never not be a big deal. You almost?—”
The word catches in my throat.
“I’m fine,” he says, putting his phone down on the nightstand, his towel still around his waist after showering first.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t a big—” He sees the warning in my glare. “I shouldn’t have tried to be a hero.”
“In no way was this your fault. You almost drowned. For Christ’s sake, Blue.”
He searches my face. “Why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.” I cross the room and kneel between his legs. “It’s upsetting to hear, but I’m not angry. I just…damn.”
“This is why I didn’t tell anyone.”
“That’s not fair. Not to the people who love you, but mostly not to yourself.”
“It is what it is.”
“No, it’s not. You deserve for people to show up for you. Was anyone there for you? Did you see a doctor?”
“Yeah. I dropped in practice a few hours later.”
Of course he went to work like nothing happened.
“The doctor ordered me to sit out a couple games and rest. I slept it off, mostly.”
“By yourself?”
“Sid stopped by with groceries.”
“Thank God.” I stand and lean forward, pushing him onto his back.
“Why do I feel like there’s more you aren’t telling me?”
He scoffs. “How do you know that?”
“Am I wrong?” I stare into his eyes. “Talk.”
“It’s nothing. It just, uh…brought up memories.”
“What kind of memories?”
