Page 56 of Hitting the Goal Line
Now here we are hours away from game seven of the Stanley Cup finals, and it’s absolutely mind blowing.
I walk out of the hospital with a smile on my face and that smile stays in place until I run into something and I’m falling to the ground.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there,” a male voice says, all the while my vision starts to fill with black spots.
Crap. Did I hit my head? I don’t have time for a head injury right now.
“Are you okay?” the voices asks me, just as the person who owns said voice comes into my line of sight.
I’m still seeing spots, but I’m able to make out dark hair and light eyes and a worried face. A handsome, worried face.
“Wh-what?” I ask, trying to find my bearings. I don’t think I hit my head, it doesn’t hurt, but I can’t say the same for my back.
“I asked if you are okay,” the handsome, worried face asks, just as a small smile spreads on said face.
“Um,” I say, taking a second to take a mental collection of myself. The only things that hurt are my back and my ass. Thank God. “Yeah, I think so. Just a little winded.”
I groan as I try to sit up. I’m definitely going to be feeling it tomorrow. Maybe I’ll finally take Blake up on one of those ice baths he’s been trying to get me into for years.
“Yeah, my bad,” the guy says, offering me a hand to help me off the floor. I decide to take it. It’s better to take a stranger’s hand, than to stay on the ground. “I was in a little bit of a rush to get up to see my grandma so that I can make it to the game on time, I wasn’t paying attention.”
I stretch my back when I’m on my feet and I can feel the pain shooting down my spine.
A groan escapes me and the guy makes a face.
“Sorry,” he says, giving me a nervous smile.
“You’re fine. I was in a hurry too. I also want to make it to the game on time,” I say, giving him a small smile in return.
“An avid Dark Knight fan or are you being dragged there against your will?” he asks, his smile shifting from a nervous one to a full-blown grin.
“Definitely not the second one,” I say with a laugh. “But I am somewhat of a fan. My friend plays for them.”
I don’t know why I decided to tell this stranger that. Unless I know the person and they are in my life in some capacity, I wouldn’t tell them about Blake and what he does for a living. Why I told this stranger that ran me to the ground, is beyond me.
“Really?” The stranger asks, his eyebrows rising and his smile spreading a bit more. “Who?”
I should lie here. I should lie to this handsome man and tell him that my friend is the mascot or something. Mascots are considered players, right? They are part of the team and they get on the ice sometimes. That might be believable, but I can’t seem to let my mouth form the lie so I tell him the truth.
“Blake Jacobi, he’s one of the second-year rookies,” I say, a proud smile on my face.
“That’s awesome. He got his nose broken during game four, right? That hit was nasty.”
It was nasty on all aspect. More so for me, because I had to pull the gauze out of his nostrils a few days ago and it was absolutely disgusting, and that is coming from a future nurse that has been cleaning peoples’ butts.
On top of that, Blake is a huge ass baby. Even more so with his mom being in town so that she can attend all the home games this playoff season. He can’t move, clean, or cook because his nose is broken. I’m surprised that he even has let his mom and stepdad sleep in his room and not on the couch. He’s injured and the precious baby needs his sleep more than anything. To say that I wasn’t shocked when he brought out the air mattress to put in the living room so that he could sleep on it, would be a complete lie.
“It was. The after care has been just as bad, but it will heal,” I say to him.
“Is he playing tonight?”
I nod. “As far as I know, he is.”
“Good, because the Knights need all the help that they can get,” the strange man says, his eyes twinkling a bit.
“You’re the second person to tell me that today,” I say through the chuckle, my mind drifting back to Mr. Henderson for a quick second.
“You’re really pretty when you laugh,” the strange guy tells me, causing my chuckle to come to a stop. “Sorry,” he says, holding up his hands. “I tend to say things out loud without even thinking about them. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
