Page 70 of Fever Dream
The phone rings in the club room and Tim tips his head at me. “Answer that? It’s probably the Review Centre.”
I grab the phone, holding it to my ear, grateful for a job. “This is the AFL Review Centre,” comes the voice down the line. “Confirming you have Casey Calloway in concussion protocol?”
“Confirmed,” I advise. “We’re reviewing video now and the club doctor is undertaking an assessment.”
“Thank you for confirming. Ensure you file the HIA at the end of the assessment.”
“Will do,” I say as I hang up the phone.
Tim Masters is asking Casey detailed questions about symptoms. He answers them easily if a little agitatedly given how much I know he will hate being down here in the rooms. I move back to his side, sharing a quick smile with him as he continues answering Tim’s questions, following his finger for eye tracking.
I help Casey to stand to complete Tim’s balance tests and coordination assessments, but he passes them all.
“Okay good, Calloway,” Tim says as Casey sits back on the bed. “Now repeat to me the five words I gave you when we came into the rooms.”
“Monkey, apple, bubble, tiger, purple,” Casey replies, just a bare hint of smugness to his tone.
“No sign of impact to the head or neck,” Ben finally declares from his detailed scrutiny of the vision. I let out a sigh of relief.
“Great. Can I get back on the ground now?” Casey asks, edging off the table until Tim halts his progress.
“Sorry, Calloway. You’re in concussion protocol,” he says. “That’s a mandatory fifteen minutes before you’re cleared.”
“But that will be the entire third quarter,” Casey whines.
“Exactly,” Tim replies. “Thornfield here is going to babysit you for the rest of the quarter. I’ll be back to clear you before you can move from this room.”
“Fine,” Casey says, slumping on the bed.
“Keep him warm,” Tim adds to me as he and Ben return to the field until it’s just Casey and me in the room.
He’s watching me, expression guarded. I know I haven’t done a great job of keeping my emotions in check tonight. That I kind of lost my head a bit watching Casey take a hit like that. I let out a deep sigh as I lean against the treatment bed.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
“Fuck, Casey. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” I admit.
“Cut out for what?”
“I don’t know, being a WAG or whatever,” I chuff, relieved when he laughs. “Honestly. I was out of my head for a bit there. Could hardly breathe.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” Casey says, grin on his face. “But I’m okay, H. And now it’s out of the Dragon’s system. We can all move on now they’ve got what they came for.”
“I’m still a bit shaken to be honest,” I admit. I let my pinkie finger curl around his on the bed.
“There’s cameras in here,” he points out, reminding me of something I should have known as I quickly withdraw my hand.
“What about the treatment room?” I ask casually.
Casey doesn’t respond so I glance up at him, seeing the heat in his eyes as he looks across at me. It’s like we both make our minds up at the same time as he slides off the bed and we rush to the treatment room.
I’m on him the moment the door is closed behind us, all the emotions and fear and worry pouring out of me into the kiss as I clutch his head in my hands. I’m breaking all my own rules, all the boundaries I set to keep our private life away from the club. But I am helpless right now, needing to feel his heartbeat undermy hand, needing to feel that energy and awareness that is all my Casey.
He's just as desperate as he kisses me back, hands in my hair as we tangle our tongues with each other. It’s a greedy, all-consuming kiss that merges our bodies and reminds us that we’re alive and okay. Maybe I’ve caught some of Casey’s dramatics because I have never felt so out of control in all my life as I do right now while a game of football plays out above our heads.
I’m a second away from dropping to my knees when the sound of a door closing jolts me back into consciousness. I pull away from Casey, both of us panting as he stares back at me, glassy eyed and utterly debauched as it dawns on us what we have just done.
“Thornfield? Calloway?” Tim calls from the club room.
