Page 6 of Rule 5: Never Crush on the Captain
Dr. Novak clears her throat. “You still haven’t told me who can watch you.”
“I—”
I don’t want to admit that I don’t have anyone, but it’s true. There’s no wife at home. No girlfriend. Not anymore.
“Course,” I lie.
A worried expression sails over Jasmine’s face. “I’m going with Isaiah to visit his parents.”
Shit.
“I’ll be fine,” I lie again.
I mean, do I really need someone?
“I don’t even think I was unconscious,” I say.
“You were definitely unconscious.”
“Okay, let’s find someone to watch Evan and Stella,” Dr. Novak says brightly, and my heart sinks.
“I’m sure it’s not necessary—”
“It’s absolutely necessary,” Dr. Novak says. “Head injuries are no joke.”
I can’t protest.
My throat dries. I should have been more careful. God, why wasn’t I more careful?
Montreal was desperate. I knew that.
“The game is over.” Jasmine types rapidly onto her phone. “I’ll have Isaiah ask around.”
“Okay,” I say weakly.
Then Jasmine smiles. “Someone volunteered.”
CHAPTER THREE
Vinnie
I rush into the locker room. I’m the first one here, and I swing my gaze around the room, as if Evan might be wedged underneath one of the benches.
Footsteps thunder behind me, and I turn toward eighteen towering teammates as I fling my hockey gear at my locker and start to undress. “Where’s Evan?”
Isaiah glances from his phone. “Jasmine says he’s still in Dr. Novak’s office. He needs someone to look after him for the next few days.”
“What happened?” I holler.
Isaiah’s dark eyes widen, and he runs his hand through his dreadlocked hair.
Shit.
I’m not acting cool. I swallow in a breath of the sweat-filled air, but I only taste something metallic, and my heart still beats way too rapidly.
“Concussion, dude,” Isaiah says. “Chill. It’s normal.”
My fingers clench. Normal is the last word I’d use to describe a head injury. It could have been more. It could still be something more. Warnings about concussions tumble through my mind.
