Page 47 of Game Winner
Bax brings my hand to his lips and presses a kiss to my palm. “So I’ll stay here the ninth through the twelfth too. More if you need me.”
That’s a little more than a month away. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to manage better on my own by then.”
Scrolling through his phone, Phil keeps his gaze on whatever he’s looking at as he speaks, “Outside of those road trips, there are a few days where both teams play, but we’ll figure it out, so someone will be here with Tyler.”
“Can you send me the game and practice schedules?” Bax directs his question to Phil.
“I’m sending them now,” Soren says. “For both teams.”
My throat constricts, and my eyes burn with emotion. Maybe it’s the pain messing with my equilibrium. Or maybe it’s the feeling of belonging blooming in my chest. “I don’t know what to say, except thank you.”
Soren nudges my plate closer to me. “Eat so you can take your meds. Then we’re going to sleep. We’ll stack pillows or whatever we need to do so you’re comfortable.”
More settled, I grab my slice. The last time I was injured and facing weeks of hobbling on my own, I felt so alone. Now, in this kitchen surrounded by eleven people all promising to help me get through it, I have support, and it makes such a difference.
Eight weeks to get back is my goal. I need to prove to the team and the fans that when the Metros picked me, they didn’t make a mistake.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BAX
I navigate the car down Gavin and Everett’s street to the sound of a grunge rock song streaming from the speakers. In the seat beside me, Tyler sings along. After spending the last four days at his house taking care of him while his housemates were away, we were both eager to get outside for a change of pace. Breathing in the fresh air and feeling the wind and sunshine on my face is a welcome change.
It’s been two weeks since he broke his collarbone. He’s in less pain than the early days, but still too much for my liking.
We’ve spent the past four days playing video games to get him used to his new one-handed controller, watching movies, and playing strategy card games Phil left for us.
Yawning, I pull into a spot across from Gavin and Everett’s house. The coffee run Tyler and I did after getting him a sling with a better padded strap hasn’t kicked in yet.
Tyler plays with the strap’s Velcro edge. “Are you sure your bandmates won’t mind that I’m here?”
“It’s fine. I texted them today to let them know, and Everett said you were welcome to hang out. You can sit in the living room and watch TV. Maybe try taking a nap in their recliner.”
“A nap sounds good. I wish I didn’t wake up so much at night.” Sitting up, propped with a ton of pillows is the only comfortable position for him, but he hasn’t had a restful night’s sleep for two weeks.
Sympathy twinges in my chest. “Hopefully, that changes. It should, as you heal and the pain lessens.”
“Hope so.” He removes his seatbelt and opens the door. He’s lucky that he didn’t lose the use of his dominant hand.
I race to drape his coat over his shoulders and guide him to the sidewalk and up the steps to the small house. “We shouldn’t be more than an hour or hour and a half.”
“No worries. I’ll be fine. We can pick up pizza on the way home.” Tyler leans into me, and I can feel his exhaustion. Having an up-close view of what athletes go through mentally and physically when they suffer injuries has been eye-opening.
Everett opens the door wide. “Hey, good to see you. Come in. How’s the shoulder, Ty?”
“Healing, thanks.” Tyler holds his good arm in front of his sling for extra protection as he squeezes past Everett. “Sorry I’m crashing your practice. I’ll stay out of the way.”
“No problem. You’ll probably be more comfortable up here. The couch in the basement isn’t very soft. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, and yell down if you need anything. Bax, get the man a water.”
Hiding a smile, I do as he says. I haven’t been to practice in two weeks because the times conflicted with when Tyler needed me. I’m happy he was feeling up to going out today, though I have a constant worry about him banging his arm, or someone crashing into him.
We get Tyler settled on the recliner with a few throw pillows propping his arm, the TV remote, and a glass of water.
When we get to the basement door, Everett touches my forearm, halting my steps. “How are you doing? Caretaking can be exhausting.”
“Tired, but good. I like being there for him. Soren and some of the guys come home tonight, so that’ll help. Their flight gets in around ten.” I stretch my arms overhead and hide another yawn.
“Gav and I are here if you need anything.”
