by Kyra Lennon
I let him usher me off the field into the tunnel. There was no sign of McCoy, but Richard was pacing the floor, speaking into his mobile.
“The match will go ahead,” he said. “Call me as soon as you know anything.”
Richard snapped his phone shut and wearily rubbed his eyes. A long-term injury to McCoy could throw Westberg’s chances of winning any trophies way off course, and even though Richard usually stayed calm under pressure, he was clearly concerned about Radleigh, not to mention the club’s standings if he didn’t make a quick recovery.
“Leah,” he said, his voice strained, “is everything okay?”
I nodded, “I think so. I … is McCoy-” I trailed off as a fresh wave of nausea washed over me.
“We were wondering if he’s okay,” Miguel finished, tightening his arm around me.
“Not sure yet,” Richard answered. “He came round in the ambulance which is a good sign. Will’s with him, he’ll keep me updated.”
The only person who disliked McCoy more than me was Will. Even in my stunned state, I couldn’t help but see the humour of Will being the person with him.
“I need to get back to the match,” Richard said. “I’ll call you if I hear anything more, but I think he’ll be fine.”
Chapter 5: How Evil Do You Think I Am?
Even without McCoy we won the match 3-0, but the team celebrations were a little subdued. Away wins usually ended with bucket loads of drinks, however, everyone was still tired from clubbing the night before and too worried about McCoy to fully enjoy another drinking binge. I waited up with Miguel and Freya for news but after trying to call Will several times and not getting through, we gave up and went to bed.
It had taken me hours to fall asleep. There were many times I’d imagined knocking McCoy out cold myself, but seeing him unconscious for real was a whole different matter. I still hadn’t shrugged off the unease I’d felt when it happened and it was as annoying as it was uncomfortable. It had become the norm to push any thoughts of him right out of my head, so having him nestled inside my brain for the night made sleep even more difficult.
A call from Richard woke me early the next morning. Freya must have already gone to breakfast. She’d left her bed sheets in a tangle and half on the floor. I’d barely seen or heard her move all night, yet she’d still managed to make a mess.
Maybe this is why she and Will aren’t dating. All that untidiness would give him the shakes.
I pressed the answer button on my phone and listened as my boss informed me that McCoy had suffered a concussion, and was brought back to the hotel after he’d been seen by a doctor. Hearing he wouldn’t suffer any long term damage was a relief, but that relief soon diminished when Richard asked me to check on him. Apparently my concern qualified me to play nurse while Richard and Will put together a plan in case he wasn’t fit to fly home.
I was never filled with enthusiasm about talking to McCoy, but visiting him meant I could legitimately satisfy my curiosity without feeling weak for wanting to find out how he was. It was nothing more than common courtesy that made me want to check on him, of course.
At room 316, I knocked on the door and was greeted by Bryce.
Damn, I love my job.
There were a million women who would have loved to make an early morning call to McCoy and Warren, and I got paid for it.
“Hi,” I said, “I’ve come to visit the patient.”
Bryce glanced over his shoulder at McCoy, before turning back to me. “Good timing. I’ve got to go. Take it easy on him, he’s a little sensitive.”
“How evil do you think I am?”
“I don’t think you’re evil,” Bryce said with a smile. “I just think he’s extra touchy today.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”
Bryce winked as he slid past me, leaving me to enter McCoy’s room.
Wow, this place could do with a clean. I didn’t envy the hotel staff who’d have to throw out all the crap they’d managed to accumulate over the last two days. The bin was overflowing with God knows what, and Bryce’s clothes were strewn all over. The air smelled a little musty, probably due in part to the mess and the closed window. I’m no neat freak, but my fingers twitched to at least pick the shirts up from the floor.
McCoy was lying on his bed wearing boxer shorts and a scruffy grey t-shirt. He'd never looked so rough and yet the glimpse of the tribal tattoo on his biceps still made my pulse quicken, and shifted my attention from the grossness of the room.
Such a shame his muscles were his only redeeming quality.
“Morning,” I said, closing the door behind me. “I’m here to mop your brow.”
McCoy glared at me, his blue eyes lacking their usual sparkle. “No thank you.”
“What’s up? You think I’d come in here while you’ve got concussion to taunt you?”
“Why else would you be here?”
“Richard wanted me to check on you. He’s coming by later but he got caught up so you’re stuck with me.”
“Next time tell him to send someone different. Hannibal Lecter has a better bedside manner than you.”
He looked murderous as I sat down on the edge of the bed. Something deep within me wanted to torment him a little bit, but no matter how much of an arse he was, I couldn’t be too cruel when I knew he was suffering.
“Come on, McCoy. I’m here now, you may as well talk to me. How are you feeling?”
“Like I got knocked out last night and wasn’t allowed to rest because Bryce woke me every three hours to make sure I was still alive. How do I look?”
Surprisingly good. Even with dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his normally clean shaven face.
“You look like hell,” I told him.
His eyes narrowed. “You love seeing me like this, don’t you?”
“Like what? You’re concussed, not dying.”
“To your great disappointment.”
Any hopes that maybe a bang on the head would result in him not being such an argumentative prick were fast slipping away.
“Believe it or not,” I said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“You know what? I don’t believe it.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” I said, standing up. “I’ll tell Richard you’re fine, and next time he can come and check on you himself!”
I began to walk away but as I reached the door, I turned back. I don’t know what made me do it, but I was just in time to see McCoy’s hand fly up to his head and he squeezed his eyes closed.
The change happened in an instant. He’d been his usual, annoying self, then in the split second I’d turned away, something had happened. I ran back over to the bed and sat down, placing my hand on his arm.
“Are you okay?” I asked, unable to disguise my panic.
“Yeah,” he said, though his voice was strained as if concentrating hard to block out the pain. “I’m fine.”
After a moment or two he relaxed. Me? My heart was still thundering.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I slept badly and sometimes my head gets real painful.”
“Is that supposed to happen?”
He shrugged. “I’m seeing the doctor again later, I’ll find out then.”
“Maybe you should get some sleep. Get into bed.”
“Careful, Leah. People will start to think you care.”
The grogginess in his voice made me a little more compassionate than I would usually have been and I laughed at the truth of his words. “Shut up and do as you’re told.”
With great effort he got to his feet, and I pulled back the covers for him.
“Are you always this bossy?” he asked.
“I’m not bossy. Now stop bloody questioning me and get in.”
With a dramatic sigh, he got into bed and I put the covers over him, like a potty-mouthed Florence Nightingale.
“Try to rest, okay?”
He nodded and closed his eyes again. When I was satisfied he wasn’t in any more pain, I stepped out in
to the corridor to call Richard.
“Hey Leah, how’s he doing?”
“Not so good,” I told him. “He’s tired and his head was hurting a lot a second ago. Is the doctor coming soon?”
“Yeah, he just called. He should be here within the next thirty minutes. From what I can tell though, McCoy won’t be fit to fly home today. We’ll have to wait and see what the doc says, but it might be a couple of days before he can go anywhere and because it’s a concussion, I don’t want him left alone.”
The next match wasn’t until Wednesday which meant whoever stayed behind had a little over two days to get back to L.A. Bryce was the ideal person to stay with him, but Richard would never risk having two top players out of the upcoming game.
“So what’s the plan?”
“I’m still trying to figure it out with Will. Unless-?”
I laughed out loud at his unspoken question. “Yeah, sure. Two minutes alone with Radleigh and I’d probably finish him off!”
Did I say Radleigh? I must be getting soft.
Richard chuckled. “Worth a shot.”
In a moment of mischievousness, I pictured the irritation on his face when I’d told him Richard had asked me to check up on him. How much angrier would he be if he realised I was his babysitter until he got better?
Evil, Leah. Evil.
I didn’t want him to suffer any serious discomfort, but the opportunity to watch him squirm for a couple of days was almost too good to pass up.
“You’re really considering this aren’t you?” Richard laughed.
“Maybe. It seems like a bad idea but, what do you think?”
“I think it would be a good chance for you to work on building some kind of amicable relationship with him. We can cover you if you’re sure. I know he’s sick, but I don’t want to leave you here if you’re not completely comfortable.”
His tone shifted and I hated that I’d let slip about McCoy’s flirting. I didn’t want to be viewed as weak. I was perfectly capable of handling him.
Sort of.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him.
Arrangements for me to stay in Phoenix until Tuesday were made. I didn’t even have to switch rooms, which meant I could continue to enjoy the view over the hotel gardens for a bit longer. No doubt they’d look even better after I’d poured the contents of the mini bar down my throat.
When I broke the news I was staying to Freya, she looked at me as if I’d volunteered to streak across the pitch during the national anthem. She wasn’t the one I was worried about though. I had to tell Miguel, and I had no clue how he’d take the news that I’d need to postpone our first date to stay with McCoy.
“You’re an angel,” he said when I eventually caught up with him. “Not many people would volunteer to stay behind with him.”
“How do you know I’m not just a slacker?” I teased. “This is like a mini holiday for me.”
“A holiday spent nursing an injured soccer player?”
“I don’t plan to spend a second longer with that berk than necessary.”
“Berk?” Miguel laughed. “Is a berk the same as a jerk?”
While I was used to using American dialect a lot of the time, it went right out the window any time I got annoyed, angry or upset. Thankfully, I’d had little need for the words “berk,” “knob,” or “tosser” since I’d been in Westberg.
“Pretty much,” I said. “I like my Britishisms.”
“I like them too. Maybe you can teach me some more on our date.”
“Oh, you’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?” I said, sliding my arms around his waist. “Nothing says first date like learning to insult people using English slang.”
“How about if you teach me while we’re having a moonlight picnic on the beach?”
He couldn’t have known that, minus the insults, he’d described my ideal date. Walking along the sand in the cool evening air was one of my favourite things to do. The idea of sharing it with Miguel was perfection.
“I’d love that.”
Miguel sighed. “Is it okay that I’m going to miss you? I know we only met two days ago, but-” he trailed off, smiling sheepishly.
I didn’t think it was possible to care so much for someone so soon but when he leaned down to kiss me, he proved me wrong.
See what you missed out on while you were running around with bad boys?
Miguel was everything I’d never had.
“I’ll miss you too,” I told him. “As soon as McCoy has the all clear, I’ll be on the next flight home.”
He kissed me once more before heading into his room to get his things. With a sickeningly happy spring in my step, I wandered back to my own room to pick up my laptop. I’d decided that, as there was nothing else for me to do, I’d sit in the bar and take advantage of the free wi-fi.
Oh, and enjoy a glass of wine or two.
Before I allowed myself to enjoy my afternoon of freedom, I needed to stop by and check on Radleigh, just to be sure he was still in the land of the living. That way, I’d be satisfied I’d done my bit for the day before taking a well-earned break.
When I reached his room, I knocked gently and waited while he came to the door.
He still looked awful, the worst I’d ever seen him. He’d thrown some jeans on, but his hair was a mess and his shirt was crumpled. The blackness under his eyes was highlighted by his ashen face.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” I asked.
“No. Couldn’t sleep. I tried though.”
“Well that’s something, I guess. I just wanted to check how you are before I go and chill out in the bar.”
“I’m okay. I’m bored, tired and my head still hurts, but I’m okay.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“I could use some company.”
He rubbed his eyes, then opened the door a bit wider and shuffled back to bed.
Not exactly what I’d had in mind. In fact, it was the last thing I’d expected him to say, especially after the way he’d greeted me earlier. Perhaps my concern had eased his irritation a little.
“I don’t know,” I said. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I can still rest if you’re here. Please, Leah?”
Idly wondering if that was the first time he had ever said please in his life, I stepped into his room and closed the door.
“Just for a while,” I told him. “I have plans to laze around.”
“There’s a spare bed and a television in here. Make yourself at home.”
Excellent, just point me towards the mini bar.
After six games of - sober - Minesweeper, Radleigh hadn’t said another word.
“Do you want me to go?” I asked. “You’re very quiet.”
“I’m supposed to be resting,” he quoted, turning his head towards me.
“I know. But you said you wanted company.”
“I do.”
Narrowing my eyes at his deliberate attempts to be awkward, I turned my attention back to my laptop to sort through my emails. Amongst the usual bunch of spam, my spirits lifted when I noticed an email from my brother drop into my inbox. I hadn’t heard from him in a few weeks because he and his family had recently moved. I couldn’t wait to hear all the news from home.
Hi Leah, I promise to send you a more detailed email soon but things have been manic. For now, I want to send you some pictures of the kids because Mum said you were desperate to see them! We miss you so much and Jamie has sent something special for you!
Love Josh, Christina, Jamie and Grace xx
P.S. Since you’ve been working with “soccer” players, Jamie has developed a new hobby.
I scrolled down and let out a squeal. The first photo showed Jamie playing on his swing in the garden of their new house, wearing a t-shirt with a picture of Cody Rivera on the front.
I chuckled to myself at Jamie’s attire. A new hobby indeed!
The next photo showed Grace pushing a tiny, brightly coloured pram. She was so beautif
ul with her dark curly hair and cheeky smile. The final picture was of Jamie, with Grace sitting on his lap on the grass.
I spotted a link to a webpage underneath the photos which took me to a video clip. When I pressed play, my hand shot up to my mouth as Jamie’s face filled my computer screen.
“Hi Auntie Leah,” he said, bouncing up and down on his chair. “I miss you very much and I wish you could come to our new house soon. My new bedroom has pictures of your football team in it! Mummy says you live too far away though and you won’t be able to come to my birthday party in two weeks but that’s okay because I’m going to ask her if she can send you a piece of birthday cake. I have to go now, Mummy told me not to talk too long! I love you!”
There was a brief pause as he turned the webcam off, then the screen went blank.
Although the message from my nephew made me smile, a lump rose in my throat. Seeing how much the kids had grown made me ache. We really hadn’t taken full advantage of video calls and I promised myself we’d change that as soon as they were settled in the new house.
“What was that?” Radleigh asked, and I quickly wiped my eyes.
“It … it was a message from my nephew, and some photos.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, taking a ragged breath. “I’m just being pathetic.”
“Can I have a look?”
I nodded and carried my laptop over to his bed, placing it in front of him before sitting down beside him.
“That’s Jamie,” I said, my finger lightly brushing my nephew’s photographed cheek. “He’ll be eight in two weeks, and this is Grace, she’s only sixteen months. They’re my brother’s children.”
“Cute kids.”
“Yeah, I really miss them.”
I stared at the photo, wishing more than anything that I could scoop them out of my screen and hold them close to me.
“She looks like you,” Radleigh said, pointing to Grace.
“Everyone says that. Whenever I took her out, people thought she was mine.”
Radleigh smiled. “I bet you loved it.”
“I think I’m a bit old for playing Mummies and Daddies now.”
I closed my laptop again so I wouldn’t spend too long brooding, and wiped away the last of my tears. Radleigh rested his hand over mine, startling me. I pulled away as if his touch scalded me. I was so used to him being inappropriate, I’d brushed him off without thinking.
