Page 123 of Against the Clock

She’s recounting the main points of her exposé on the AFL’s treatment and mishandling of their cheer teams, and she’s doing it like a fucking champion. It’s the third time I’ve watched the recording from the six o’clock news, and I could watch it again.

I’m so proud of her.

I shift and pain slices through my left shoulder, radiating down to my fingers. Fuck.

The ice and the ibuprofen I took are only doing the bare minimum to numb it.

Kelsey’s segment ends and I reach for the phone in my pocket, stiff, trying not to agitate the injury.

You did so fucking good babe

I’m so proud of you

You’re kicking ass

Thank you

I know you said you wanted to rest tonight before the game tomorrow, but what if I told you I just want to snuggle next to you

Also the makeup artist said the Hot Dams were trying to dox me and honestly I’m scared to go back to my apartment

Fuck. The idea of the stupid fans going after Kels for this makes me sick to my stomach. But I don’t want her to see me like this.

She shouldn’t be here tonight.

I close my eyes, the anchors on TV throwing the report to the sports guy, who’s now outlining all the ways the game tomorrow could go fucking badly.

A few days ago, I called her dad. Told him she was worried about him, told him the new treatments for head injuries might help. Told him I had an idea I wanted to keep secret from her, an idea I needed his help with.

Kelsey’s dad, Warner Cole, is a great guy, and it comes as no surprise, considering his daughter is incredible too.

But I do not want Kelsey in my house tonight.

If she sees how fucked up my arm is, how truly fucked up it is, she’s going to freak out.

I know it.

I start to tap out a bullshit response about how tonight’s not good, about how I need to focus on the game, then delete it.

She doesn’t feel safe going home to her apartment. Fuck. If it’s a choice between Kelsey being safe or Kelsey being upset at me, I’m going to pick her safety every fucking time.

Of course babe

Good, because I just pulled up

I laugh, and then grunt because fuck, even my ribs hurt. Carefully, I extricate myself from my mountain of icepacks and make for the front door just as a knock sounds.

Taking a deep breath, I try to relax my face, my posture, and pull the door open.

Kelsey’s standing on the step, and my heart skips a beat.

“Hi, my love,” I tell her, so fucking happy to see her that I almost forget about how much my shoulder’s messed up.

“Hey.” She smashes into me, hugging me tight, and I immediately tense up. “I hope it’s okay that I just… you know, came here. The makeup artist, she freaked me out, said BeaverTok is out for blood. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep if I stayed at my place. I promise I won’t bother you.”

I bite my cheeks, because as much as I love the way she feels against me, as much as I love hearing that I make her feel safe… she’s hurting me worse. Pain, electric and volatile, shakes me, and I stay silent, trying to master it the same way I have since the first time I took an unlucky hit and dislocated my left shoulder in training camp all those years ago.

“Daniel?” she says, and this time, her voice is full of concern. “What’s wrong?”

---