Page 54 of Power Play
I stand. "Jonesy! Ryan! Help me get him off the ice!" I shout. We need to get him in my room and reset his shoulder as soon as possible, before the swelling makes it difficult.
Jonesy pushes the Bruin he was fighting away and wipes blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Christ, all of these boys are going to be banged up today. Three of them, Jonesy included, shove their opponents away and skate over. The fighting Bruins must see how bad of shape Ben's in, so they don't follow.
"Get him under his legs in a chair position. Don't touch his right arm, it's dislocated." I order and point to the door that leads to the tunnel and back to our rooms. Lauren gives me a sad smile and a nod of approval.
My eyes lock with Scott and a million emotions pass between us. He's concerned for Ben, of course, but he's concerned for me too because of how scared I am for Ben.
"I'll take care of him. You got the rest of the game?" I ask Lauren quickly, shuffling ungracefully after the boys who have picked Ben up and are carefully skating to the door.
"Yep! Go take care of your man," she shouts.
The boys set Ben down on one of the tables in the medical center before returning to the game. I grab my flashlight and check his pupil's response time.
Jonesy hovers. "Should... should I..." He looks over his shoulder back to the arena.
Frustration takes over the fear. "What Garrett!? Get it out!"
"Should I stay!? I've never done the boyfriend thing before, so I don't know what I'm supposed to do!!" he shouts, running his hands through his hair. "They're supposed to teach me!"
"Teach you?" I ask, putting up a finger and moving it back and forth in front of a goofily grinning Ben, watching his eyes track the movement.
"Teach me how to be a good boyfriend to you! But Ben's like this, and Coach is out there..." He starts to pace, which is awkward because he's still in his skates.
But then his words register.
He wants to know how to be a good boyfriend and doesn't know if that means staying to support me, or going back out onto the ice to finish the game. And Ben and Scott were supposed to teach him how to be a good boyfriend for me.
My heart fucking melts.
I turn to Garrett, grabbing his face in my hands. He towers over me on a good day but add four inches of height because of his skates and he's almost impossibly tall. His hair is a mess, sweaty and now sticking on end because of his fingers. He's got sweat on his temples, dripping down the sides of his face and just above his lip. The lip that's split from the fight he was in.
"Garrett!" I shout, trying to get his attention. "Baby, if you ever need to know what I need, just ask me. Right now, my biggest concern is Ben and taking care of him. Can you go back to the game, please? It's what I want right now." His chest is heaving, but he's listening.
"Are... are you sure? This isn't like some trap where women say they want one thing, but they really want another?"
I suppress my smile. How has this man been with so many women and still be so unsure of himself when it comes to actually dating? Actually, I know the answer to that one. He fucks women, but he never dates them. The fact that he cares about being a "good boyfriend" melts me all over again.
"No trick here, baby. I can't focus on Ben if you're hovering. Please go back to the game and tell Scott I'm working on Ben and we're fine. Okay? I don't want him to worry about us when he's got a game to play. Got it?"
He licks his lips, but nods. He spins to head out the door when he spins again, stomping back to me and bending down to give me a quick, surprising kiss.
Then he spins on his skate again and leaves. A half-chuckle slips out of my lips at what just happened before I turn back to Ben and give him my focus.
"Hey, there, handsome. Do you know my name?"
I know he's got a concussion, the fencing response his body did and loss of consciousness was enough of a clue, but I need to check how severe, and my nervous energy needs somewhere to go.
"Yeah, you're my pretty girl."
His pupils are slow.
Alright, I need to get his shoulder back in place before it swells. I gently pull his jersey, elbow pads, shoulder pads, and neck guard off before I get a good look at his shoulder. Christ. I'll need to get an X-ray to see if his collarbone is still attached.
I adjust my table so that it's flat and maneuver him to lie down. Throwing on the lead apron quickly, I get the shots I need. Luckily, there's no break, just a dislocation.
Shoulder dislocations are common injuries in hockey and football, though, so I know how to fix it.
"Alright, handsome, I need you to lie on your stomach."
