Page 194 of Breaking Point
Bella
MOM
is Grayson okay??
what happened?
BELLA
Going to him now
I’ll keep you updated!
I’m running.
Cindy is behind me, still yelling at the security guard that took his precious time and made plenty of excuses not to allow me past to see Grayson in the medical room.
The second I saw the anger come over him, I was up and out of my seat. When I saw the punches he was throwing, I took off.
I’ve never seen him like that.
Grayson is even-tempered. In all the games I’ve attended he’s never thrown a punch despite people trying to make him.
So what the hell did the player say to elicit that reaction?
I keep trying to reassure the hive of bees buzzing frantically in my chest that it was the other player who was hurt, but I won’t truly believe that until I lock eyes on Grayson unharmed.
Not caring for how deranged I look, I keep running, followingthe directions the burly security guard drawled out to me with an eye roll.
Turn left.
Take a right at the second hallway.
Three doors down?—
“You should have fucking heard what he said!” The sound of Grayson screaming has my feet coming to a stop. “He should be fucking fined!”
I can’t hear the response of whoever he’s talking to through the closed door, but before I can decide against it, I’m knocking and barging through.
Grayson stands in the corner, his neck flushed and face red, chest heaving. Whatever he was about to scream next dies on his tongue as he takes me in.
At first, I think I’ve intruded. I mean, what the hell am I doing here? I’m not his real girlfriend, but before those thoughts and insecurities can take flight, Grayson is striding across the room, still in his hockey kit, and scooping me into his arms.
A loudhumphflies from my chest at how tightly he squeezes me.
“I’m sorry, I’m sweaty. I just…need to hold you.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I murmur, “It’s okay.” He gently places me down, albeit reluctantly, giving me a chance to look him over. “Are you hurt?”
“This big dumbass is fine. It’s the other guy who’s pushing to have Grayson fined.”
Peering over Grayson’s shoulder, I spot a man in his late fifties with salt-and-pepper hair, his gray eyes staring me down.
Despite the tension crackling in the room, he smiles, and it’s full of sincerity. “Well I’ll be damned, it’s about time I met the girl who got this big idiot in line.”
Grayson scoffs.
I can’t help but return the older man’s warm smile. It’s infectious. “I’m Bella, and honestly it’s all Grayson’s hard work, not mine.”
