Page 66 of Kiss and Make Love

His sluggish gaze focused on Alex’s face. “Are you holding my hand?” Cooper muttered. His signature cheeky smirk graced his face.

“Yeah. What of it?” Stupid, beautiful idiot. Probably has a fucking brain bleed, and that’s the first thing he says? “Where are the fucking medics?” He searched the field, looking for their telltale neon jackets. Finally, he spotted two men running from the sidelines.

“Clear the area, please. We need to stabilize his neck and get him back to see the doc. Sir,”—the emergency worker turned to him—“I’m going to need you to let go of his hand and stand off to the side with your team.”

“If you think I’m leaving his fucking side, you’ve got another thing coming,” he snarled, leaving no room to wonder how serious he was.

The medic’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Sir, I need you to back up and?—”

“Not a fucking chance. Now let’s go,” Alex growled.

Cooper’s chuckle rang in his ears. “Be nice, Bouchard. They’re just doing their jobs. Finish out the half. There’s only a few minutes left.”

“I’m not leaving you. You’re hurt. You probably have whiplash.”

“It happens. Finish out the play.” Cooper squeezed Alex’s hand, then pried it loose. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be in to check on you as soon as the whistle blows. Not a second later.”

“I know you will be. Go and play.”

Shit. Fuck. Shitty fuck shit. He didn’t want to leave him. Nodding to Cooper, he watched the medics carry him off the field and back to his team doctor.

The entire force of the Coyotes and the Renegades were on the field behind him. He felt the weight of their stares. Turning to face them, he was ready for a fight. So what if he was dating a rival player? So what if they allhad a problem with it? He’d kill anyone who?—

“Hey, he’s gonna be okay, man. I’ve seen him take worse hits, trust me. He always bounces back,” said the right winger on Cooper’s team.

“Ya, bud. He’s got this,” Michael added, walking to his side and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Other members from both teams nodded at him, or gave him a thumbs up, calling out words of encouragement.

“Hold up—you guys aren’t all pissed at me for being with Cooper?”

“Oh, we’re fuckin’ pissed, bud,” Stan called from between his fellow teammates.

Jason laughed. “Pissed like you wouldn’t believe.”

Cooper’s team captain waltzed up to him. “But you know we’re all actually thrilled for you, right?”

The sentiment made him pause. Why was everyone taking this so well? “You…are?”

“Oh hell ya,” Michael said. “Do whatever you want with each other off the field.”

“Just as long as you’re still willing to go against each other on the field, eh?” another one of Cooper’s teammates added.

“I thought we all…” He looked back and forth between all the players. Even the refs were standing off to the side, pretending not to listen but clearly wanting to know what was going on before resuming play. “I thought we hated each other? Decades-long rivals and all that?”

“Oh, that’s just a silly tradition we all pretend to keep up. I mean, maybe some of us hate the others, but it’s mostly for show.” Stan winked.

Other team members standing around him nodded or hummed their agreement.

“I’m sorry, man. You know how things go. It was an accident.” Jason looked down at the pitch, unwilling to meet his eyeline.

Any leftover anger fled his body at the sight of a downtrodden looking Jason. The man was a stony son of a bitch, so for him to apologize like that, he knew he meant it.

“Hey. Not your fault. These things happen, and we all know the risks.” He held out his hand to his teammate, who graciously accepted it. “Now let’s finish up this fucking half so I can go see Coop.”

COOPER

---