Page 7 of Not a Perfect Save

Dan makes a noise of impatience. “We have a situation. Connor Hall here,” he says the name almost reverently, “is in a bit of a predicament.”

A faint flush rises in Connor’s cheeks. This is getting more and more interesting. Despite my aching head, I turn my attention to him and drawl out a, “Yeesssss?”

He releases a heavy exhale and looks down. “So here’s the thing. I injured my foot a couple of weeks ago, just a sprain. I was about to get the all-clear to play next week, but...”

Understanding dawns. “But you decided to go all Boy Scout,” I complete his sentence for him with a wave at his ankle.

“I did.” He sweeps his gaze back up to tangle with mine. A corner of his mouth quirks up. “As you can tell, that didn’t end so well for me.”

“Your own fault,” I point out.

Connor’s grin widens. “Absolutely. You did all the hard work.”

He really has the most mesmerizing eyes. “What do you want?” I ask slowly.

The smile drops from his lips. He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “There’re paparazzi out there. If they see me injured again, they’re going to make a big deal out of it. It could damage my chances of playing.”

“So…?” My head is spinning too much for all these vague and subtle hints.

“I wondered if you might be willing to come outside with me and umm…” Connor’s face goes an even deeper pink. Adorable.

Dan’s fed up with all the hemming and hawing. “Miss Dixon, if you would tell the paparazzi that Connor saved you, it would help our situation.”

I almost snort out the sip of water I’ve just taken. Did I hit my head harder than I thought? “Come again?”

Dan repeats his request.

“Wait, so you want me to play the damsel in distress?” My gaze swings to Connor, incredulous. “Like,yourescuedme?”

“Uh, yeah?” He scratches the back of his neck, a humbled expression on his face.

“Why would I do that?” I study him. His eyes don’t meet mine, but his hands are fisted tight. Something twists inside me, and I’m filled with a strange desire to run my fingers along his jaw.

“I heard you say that you don’t have anyone to call.”

Not exactly true.“And?”

“Well, um... you could stay at my place. The nurse said you shouldn’t be left alone. I could, uh, check on you?”

I gape. Since when do concussions impair the ability to hear right? “Are you crazy? I’m not going home with a stranger.”

“He’s not a stranger!” Dan jumps in. “He’s a two-time Super Bowl winner.”

Maybe Dan senses I’m not impressed with these credentials because he tacks on “He’s also ex-army—defender of the peace and all that.”

A slow smile breaks over my face. “So you really are a Boy Scout, Boy Scout?”

Connor scowls at Dan before turning back to me. “No, I’m just offering you a room.”

“I’m perfectly fine staying here,” I respond primly, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle in my jeans.

He raises a blond brow.

A throat clears behind us. The nurse has returned. “We have a bed in the ward set up for you.”

The ward?

Oh, yeah. No private room without calling Daddy. How’s independence looking now?

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