Page 45 of Tangled with the Tight End

He goes through a series of checks and peppers me with questions. Am I getting enough calcium and protein? How about other vitamins? How long do I work out? When was the last time I felt pain in my knee? Are there any exercises I’m unable to do? When was the last time I worked out?

The questions continue to come as he checks mobility and for tenderness. “You look good. Let’s get you up and run you through the paces. Start at 50%. I don’t want you to re-injure anything.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m back on the exam bed as the blood rushes through my veins. It feels good to be back at the stadium working out. The cool air fills my lungs as I hold it in. I love football. I’ve always loved football.

But what am I going to do when it’s all over? Go into business with Marco? Sure, we talked about it years ago, but I assumed he’d moved on from that plan. A restaurant? An Italian restaurant in Evergreen Lake? It’s a beautiful place. Lots of tourists for skiing, golf, and sightseeing. So, the location is viable. But is that where I want to live?

I tip my head back to ease the tension balling between my shoulder blades. It’s not like I have any ties to here outside of the team. Sloane is in Florida, and I don’t want to live anywhere close to her. My parents live in Texas and travel a lot. That leaves Gino and me in Kansas City by ourselves. But Evergreen Lake?

Dr. Daughtery examines my knee as he adjusts my leg into different positions and glances up. “It’s looking great if I do say so myself.” He grins and rises from the rolling chair he’s used to following me around the room. He should know as he performed the surgery. “I see some slight swelling, but it should resolve itself over time. You’re progressing ahead of schedule and should be able to play in two weeks.” He slides his mobile workstation in front of himself and taps on the keys.

Two weeks. Remember, your entire goal was to return to the field, not spend the holidays in Evergreen Lake. Yes, it’s beautiful. Yes, Gino loves it and has never been happier. And… Don’t. She broke up with you. Or told you a vacation fling was out of the question.

After Sloane, I promised myself I’d never have another hook-up. At least this time, I wasn’t drunk and knew what I was doing. Unfortunately, neither situation was a lesson in listening to my brain instead of my dick.

“Thanks, Dr. Daughtery.” I straighten my back and rotate my shoulders in a desperate attempt to reduce the stabbing pain shooting through me and swallow hard. There’s one question that hasn’t been answered. “How do you think it will hold up?”

He shoves the computer back and leans his hip against the cabinet. “Short term?” He arches an eyebrow. “Or long term?”

My stomach clinches, dreading that Marco’s right. I focused solely on getting back into the gym and avoided asking any questions I didn’t want answers to.

It’s time. “Both.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, bunching up the top button on his white lab coat. “Short term, you’ll be fine. But this is the third time your knee has been operated on and the most structural damage to date.” His gaze is intense and unwavering. “If you injure it again to this level, you’ll need a knee replacement by the age of 35.”

Fuck. I’m 32. That’s only three years away.

“If not at the time.”

I hold my breath deep in my lungs. The truth. That’s not what I wanted to hear.

“But…. The injury was a fluke. I’m not worried that you’ll injure it again. The healing is fantastic. You’re in excellent shape, and the training you receive is state-of-the-art. There’s no reason to worry about it when you’re on the field.” He winks. “I’m that good.”

Thank God. My shoulders slump as the unease rushes from my body. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Good.” He shakes my hand again. “Two weeks, report back, and we’ll get you cleared to play.”

“Perfect.” I return his handshake with enthusiasm and hop down off the bed. “I look forward to getting back onto the field.”

I’ve got to start making plans for Gino when I return here.

twenty-three

NORAH

As I flipthe sign to closed, Sawyer waves from his pickup. I hold the door open for him as he approaches. The sun is setting, so he’s cast in shadows.

“Hey, Sawyer, what’s up?” His feet crunch on the fresh snow. We didn’t get a lot down in the valley, but they received nearly a foot up at the lodge.

“I got held up at work today and couldn’t get away.” He trudges inside and stomps his feet, leaving chunks of snow on the rug.

“Busy day?” I flip the lock closed and pull out a chair. When Gabriel gets back, he’ll be surprised. It was nearly 40 degrees in Kansas City today. Stop thinking about him.

“You have no idea.” He groans as he removes his coat, hooks it on the chair back, and sits across from me. “There’s under 10k people between here and the surrounding towns, but half of them need a new vehicle.”

I chuckle and lean back into the wooden chair slates. His flare for exaggeration is one of the things I enjoy about him.

“How’re things here and at the lodge?”

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