Page 108 of Puck Block

His blue eyes are wide, and he’s gasping for air. He’s shirtless, with nothing on but the bottom half of his hockey uniform.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I enter the room as the nurses scold me, but I ignore them. I fling myself onto his body and wrap my arms around his waist. “I need you to breathe. Deep breaths.”

“I gotta get out of here.” His chest heaves, and I squeeze him tighter.

“Remember last time,” I whisper against his skin. “Breathe in and then out. Match my breathing, Ford.”

“Taytum, I need to go–” Ford sways, and I’m too small to keep him upright, so I push him toward the bed, and he falls clumsily. His arms and legs move sluggishly, and he sucks in a heap of oxygen again, gasping for air.

“I’ll stay with you, but you have to calm down or they’re going to sedate you.”Like last time.

I palm his face, and he stares up into my eyes. There is an undeniable amount of fear and anxiety there, but if there is anyone who can reach him in this state, it’s me.

I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again.

“Breathe,” I demand.

He brings his clammy forehead to mine and takes a few deep breaths.Whew.

I eye the nurses, and I mouth,“He’s fine.”

They nod, and we all exhale deeply.

In between another deep breath, Ford asks, “Are you okay?”

I straighten my spine. “What? AmIokay?”

His arms tighten around my waist before he pulls back and stares up at me. “I looked at your levels when I went intothe locker room… Then I saw you in the stands…” He looks confused. “Then I ended up here.”

Emotion chokes me, and all I do is nod against his forehead. “I’m fine, Ford. But we need to let them check you out. Okay?”

I slowly try to back away, but he doesn’t let go. “Not without you beside me.”

My heart flips. I turn to look at the head nurse, Dorris, and she gives me the okay with a quick nod.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, pushing back on his bare chest. I keep my hand pressed to his heart, because God knows he has his hand on mine.

[ 50 ]

FORD

She hasn’t leftmy side.

Taytum’s legs are hooked over mine, and her hand holds on tight to my arm as fluids rush through my vein in the other. I’m still cagey, and my heart still beats too fast for the athleticism that I possess, but without her, I’d probably be in a straightjacket from the Hulk-like strength I seem to possess when I'm in distress.

I hate hospitals.

The smell.

The fluorescent lights.

The depressing energy that seeps from everyone.

The memory of watching my mother die.

“You definitely have a concussion, and you need a CT due to how long you were unconscious.”

Taytum stiffens, and suddenly, I’m the one comforting her.

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