Page 164 of Gloves Off

“The player’s been ejected from the game,” Tate says at the door.

“Good,” I bite out, too aggressive to fool anyone. “Send him to me so I can make sure he’s done for the season.”

Beneath me, Alexei makes a noise that sounds like a stifled laugh.

Our eyes meet, and his pained amusement fades at whatever he sees on my face. I look away, fast.

Once we have Alexei’s shoulder back in place and his arm is in a sling, I check him for a concussion. I check again, just to be safe, and then again, once more.

And then I have Dr. Cheung check him. I feel a little pulse of gratitude that she doesn’t say anything about my overzealous care. When she’s done, I thank her. She gives me a quick smile and heads out.

“Thanks, Doc,” Tate says at the door as she leaves. “Dr. Greene, can I support in any way?”

I shake my head. “Just going to stitch his face up.”

“I’ll let you work.” He leaves, closing the door behind him, and now we’re alone.

The hand from his good arm comes to my hip. “Nowdo you want to make out?”

Against my will, I start to smile. I hate that he makes me laugh when I’m feeling like this. “I’m trying not to mess up your ugly face more than it already is. Stop talking.”

He grins, but his lip is split, and he winces with pain. My eyes prick and I look away, blinking.

“You were like a snarling dog.”

I cough out a laugh. “Don’t call me a dog, Alexei.”

“How about a demon, then?” His mouth tips up. “I liked it, you losing it over me.”

“I didn’t lose it.”

I finish his brow, applying a bandage, before I move to his lip. I can’t look him in the eyes. If I do, he’ll see. He’ll know.

“Hey.” He runs his hand up to my neck to cup my jaw. “I’m okay.”

“I know.”

Worry threads through his gaze. “Because you’re looking at me like you don’t.”

I nod, looking down at my hands. Not shaking anymore, so that’s good. “I don’t like watching you get hurt.”

He studies me, starting to frown like he realizes it, too.

Thisis why we can’t be married for real. Even if it’s nice. Even if it’s better than I thought it could be. I can’t watch him get hurt, and I can’t ask him to give up his career, not when it’s everything to him.

“This is what you want to watch?” I ask him in the hotel room later as he hit ‘play’ on the TV’s streaming service. “You know what this is, right?”

In the bed, with an ice pack tucked under his sling, he looks atme with glittering eyes. I can tell he’s trying not to smile because his lip hurts. “Yes.”

“This show is for teenagers.”

God, every time I look at him, I replay the hit from tonight and feel sick all over again.

“I thought you said it was just about teenagers.”

The Vampire Diariesopening credits play.

“Okay.” He’s going to be bored or asleep after five minutes. “If this is what you want.”