Page 103 of Chips & Checks
“Murphy, look at me.” The team doc’s voice cuts in. He holds up a finger and waits. I track it—mostly. His frown says enough. “You’re heading to the quiet room.”
I try to argue, but the words come out slurred and useless. They haul me upright and help me down the tunnel while the crowd jeers above us. Every step sends a drill bit of pain through the back of my skull.
I can’t fail tonight.
Not now.
Not after everything.
“Come on.” Violet takes my arm and tries to lead me away. “You know how concussion protocol works.”
“No!” I stumble a little in my attempt to slow her down. “I can’t go. Operation: Ring My Bell!”
“Yeah, Bowen. Your bell has been rung.” Violet grimaces. “Looks like that was quite a hit. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“We can’t go,” I insist, swatting her hand away. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”
She trains her eyes on me. “You planned this? Seriously, Bowen, there are easier ways to get attention.”
“I just wantyourattention.” Where is everyone? We can adapt this plan, but I can’t do it alone, and this will all fall apart if we leave the arena now.
Violet rubs my back and resumes her attempts to lead me away. “Good news. You’ll have all of it, back in the medical room.”
“No… Coach!” I wave my arms to get Noah’s attention.
“Coach is a little busy right now,” Violet coos. “Come on, babe.”
“But Ineeeeeedhim!”
“Okay, okay, I’ll get him.” Violet darts away and returns with Noah in tow.
He takes my hand and gives my shoulder a firm clap. “You’re gonna be alright, Murphy. Let them take care of you. We got it covered.” He’s holding something in his hand. It feels… sticky. When he releases me, the sticky blob stays behind, and I realize it’s a wad of hockey stick tape. I try to pull it free without being too obvious, but ofcourse,I fumble it.
Between my injury, my yelling, and my inflatable tube-man flailing, I’ve drawn a lot of attention. Violet is watching me with concern, but the guys are all smirking. Lenyx tries to cover his laugh with a fake coughing fit. Let’s just say the guy had better stick to hockey—he doesn’t have a future on Broadway.
Viktor leans over to Knight and says, “Do all of you realize that if Briggs had never told Bowen to go to The Puck Drop his first night here, he never would have fucked Violet and we wouldn’t be in this situation?”
I miss Knight’s response, because Violet has finished negotiating about our trip to the treatment room. She hauls me forward with a determination big enough to make up for her size.
“You’re strong for your height,” I tell her.
“I’m going to blame that comment on your head injury.” She shoves me through the door of the medical room. “Okay, protocol time. Who’s the owner of the Vegas Venom?”
“Dante Giovanetti,” I say without missing a beat.
Violet winces. “Shit. No, it’s Sergio.”
I drop onto the edge of the exam table. “You could’ve fooled me.”
That earns a smirk from Violet. “Okay, I’m going to shine this light in your eyes, and I need you to track its motion, okay?”
I try to do as she says, but all the emotions I’ve been trying to wrangle all day are catching up with me. Instead of following the light, I find myself staring at her gorgeous face. My grip tightens on my wad of stick tape. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you. Now, follow the light, please.”
I do my best, but when she moves the light back in an arc, my gaze gets held up on her features again. “Can’t I just stare into your eyes for a minute? They’re so mesmerizing.”
“After you follow the light,” Vi insists.
