Page 123 of Grumpy Darling

“Must be a part of his treatment plan.”

“If this is how they tend to the patients here, can someone knock me out too?”

I shook my head but couldn’t keep a smirk from my face. My teammates didn’t seem too concerned about my health, but I guess Iwasfeeling well enough to make out with Paige on my hospital bed.

Reed, Cammie, Violet, and Parker all walked through the door behind the crowd of fully kitted-out Devils who quickly made the room feel like a janitor’s closet.

“Don’t worry, little sis,” Parker said with a grin. “I’m sure she was just trying to revive him with a little CPR...”

My teammates sniggered, and I scowled at all of them. It seemed I wasn’t as intimidating when I was bedridden.

Matt was standing at the front of group, and he winked at me before raising his hands to get the team’s attention. “Settle down, boys, unless you want to end up in the bed next to Grayson.”

There were a few murmurs of agreement.

“How are you feeling, Gray?” Reed asked, and everyone went quiet as they waited for my reply.

“I’ll be al—” I didn’t get a chance to answer, as movement at the door caught my eye. I looked over to see my parents, Coach Ray, and Coach Mercer stepping into the room. They moved slowly, as though they were trying not to be noticed, but everyone had already turned to watch them. Each wore a stoic expression, and it was hard to predict what they might be thinking.

“I hope it’s okay if we come in,” Coach Ray said, when he realized every eye in the room was on him and Mercer. “We just wanted to check on you.”

My gut twisted with uncertainty, but I nodded. My parents had probably informed the coaches of my concussion, but they had no idea more bad news was coming. There was every chance I was about to sabotage my own career, my whole future, and I didn’t particularly want an audience to watch it happen. My family and the rest of my team didn’t seem to notice though. They were staying quiet, as if hoping I wouldn’t realize they were still hovering in the room. All they needed was a few bowls of popcorn and they could have been at the movies.

“How are you feeling?” Mercer asked.

“Not too bad, thanks. Still a little woozy.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We spoke with your parents and the doctor already. That was a nasty hit, and concussions are no joke.”

“Absolutely,” Coach Ray agreed. “You’ll need to take at least a couple of weeks off, and we’ll monitor it from there.”

He then turned back to Mercer, and they shared a look before the Ryker coach continued.

“I know you were supposed to sign your letter of intent for me today,” he said. “But I’m happy to wait until you’re out of the hospital. We can leave it a few days, if you prefer?”

“That’s okay with me,” I said. “Provided you still want me to sign.”

“What do you mean?” Mercer’s brow creased and a few mutters of confusion rippled around the room.

I took a deep breath and gripped Paige’s hand tighter. She looked down at me and smiled, squeezing my hand right back. This was it. No regrets. Time to take another leap of faith.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I started. “All of you. I’ve been playing through an injury. My knee hasn’t been the same since I got hurt a couple of years ago. It never fully recovered, and this season it’s been worse than ever.”

My words were met with a silence that lingered for longer than I liked. Was everyone waiting for me to continue, or were they just lost for words?

“It’s gotten too painful to play,” I added. “And if I keep this up, I’m worried the damage will be irreparable. So, even without the concussion, I think I’ll be out of action for a while.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, Gray?” My dad was the first to speak. He looked like he was struggling to process what I’d just shared, likely reliving the moment his own hockey career was ripped away from him because of an injured knee.

“I was worried Ryker wouldn’t want me if I couldn’t play this season, so I pushed through the pain. But I can’t do it anymore.” I turned to Coach Mercer. “I understand if you want to hold off on the signing for more than a few days.”

Mercer was nodding slowly and his jaw looked tight, as though he was chewing on what I’d just told him.

“Well, kid, I’m really sorry to hear this,” he began. “And I appreciate you telling me. It’s vitally important to us at Ryker that we get a full picture of every player we recruit, especially when it comes to injuries, both past and present. And this is certainly new information.” He paused, and scanned the room, which was still packed with onlookers holding their breath in anticipation. “But personally, I don’t see how this changes anything.”

“You don’t?” Surely I hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Nope.” He shrugged. “If anything, I’m more excited for you to sign than I was before. Hell, if what I saw today is you playing on a bad knee, I can’t wait to see what you can do with a good one. If you’re ready to put in the work to get better, then Ryker will be here to support you.”

---