Page 185 of The Illicit Play
GRADY
Blake’s been home for a few days now. Thankfully, she only had to spend one night in the hospital, and then we were able to bring her home and take over her care. She’s sporting a walking boot, which she has to wear for one more week, then will start going to PT to strengthen her ankle back up again.
I’m carrying her around whenever I can and being the best nurse I know how. Everyone else is doing their best to hassle the crap out of the Wilson siblings as they limp around Football Frat. They’re taking it like champs and dishing it right back out, finding flaws to tease.
The banter’s been intense, but it’s also lightened the mood around the place, and I’ll take it.
Blake’s parents showed up at the hospital on Wednesday, before she was released, and it was awkward as hell. They were full of sympathy and fuss, yet the quiet demand that she recover quickly so she can get her life back together was loud and clear.
It took everything in me not to shout them out of theroom. They were surprised she was dating me, but thankfully, they didn’t make me feel as unwelcome as they’d first made Satch feel. Wily stepped in and stood up for me, which I was not expecting.
Needless to say, the visit wasn’t exactly calming for anyone, and even though they tried to stick around, Wily convinced them to head back to Denver and come visit again when Blake was back on her feet.
“There are so many people to watch over her at Football Frat, she’ll be feeling totally henpecked, so you don’t have to worry.”
And he’s so freaking right. He’s the worst of the lot, hovering around and making sure she’s okay. Satch has had to force him to class, but she couldn’t move my stubborn ass. I played watchdog for two days straight, because Blake needed her sleep, dammit, and I didn’t want anyone disturbing her.
She slept like the dead for an entire day, and I finally headed back to class on Thursday morning, happy that she was looking like herself again.
Well, her new self. There’s a peacefulness to her that wasn’t there before, and I swear I want to spend my life memorizing every one of her smiles.
Despite Wily’s assurances, his parents have been calling every day to make sure Blake hasn’t bolted again or done anything stupid.
It’s pissing me off, but I’m trying not to complain about it. I’ve got other things to worry about… like making Blake take her pain meds.
She’s stubbornly refusing unless she has to. She’s really taking the whole “turn my life around” thingseriously and hates the idea of needing any kind of substances to get through.
But she needs her meds, so I’m forcing her to pop pills when I can tell her ankle is throbbing so badly she can’t even think straight. When I got back from practice on Friday and found her on my bed, white as a ghost and about ready to puke from discomfort, I coaxed a couple of stronger meds into her, then told her to stop being so damn brave.
She stared up at me, her eyes etched with agony. “I can’t fuck up again.”
“You won’t,” I promised her. “I won’t let you… and neither will you.”
I comforted her with soft kisses, and she eventually fell asleep. I spent the evening in bed with her. When she woke up, we whispered in the darkness, mapping out our next hiking trip. Despite what she went through, she’s pumped to get back into the woods, and I’ve got a bunch of different spots I want to take her. She’s promised me she’ll never go out on her own again, and I’m confident she’ll keep her word.
When the weekend rolls around, I get my studying out of the way first thing Saturday morning before heading off to a light training session. The team is shaping up nicely for next year, although Zander, Wily, and Tyrell are gonna be leaving a really big hole. I’ll have my work cut out for me, but I’m pumped to do it.
When I started this year, I was dreading getting through to the summer, but I’m feeling pretty damn good about things now. I’ve really managed to let my pain over Teah go, and Blake has had a huge part in making that happen.
She laughed again for the first time on Sunday morning, and it made my heart freaking sing. Watching her face, I revel in her sweet expression. She’s coming back, her cheeks getting that rosy tint again, her blue eyes dancing with amusement as she winks at me, then stares across the room at her brother.
We’re hanging out in the living room downstairs. It’s been converted back to its former glory now that Wily can handle the stairs. He still has to be careful and is down to using one crutch. He hates it, but he’s not willing to do anything to jeopardize his chances with football. I’ve never seen the guy work so hard in my life.
But right now, he’s taking a minute to relax. We all are, and I’m loving this chill vibe. His leg is propped in Satch’s lap while Blake’s is propped in mine.
We’ve all been sitting around teasing each other. Satch and I are accusing the siblings of being injury-prone, and they’re saying they were totally fine until we came along.
I’m loving the banter flying between us, and the laughter popping out of Blake is all things beautiful. I smile at her, brushing my fingers up and down her leg, until there’s a knock at the door.
I gently maneuver myself off the couch, setting Blake’s ankle back down on a pillow before heading for the door. When I open it, my smile instantly fades, replaced with a frown that reflects this horrible twisting sensation in my gut.
Wily and Blake’s parents are on our doorstep, and there is going to be nothing fun about this visit. They’re both looking pale, their expressions grave.
I don’t even have a chance to greet them before Mr. Wilson is gruffly saying, “We need to talk to Blake.”
Part of me wants to stay put and say she’s not available, but I can’t get away with that, so I step aside and let them walk into the house.
They pause in the archway to the living room, and the second Blake sees them, that pink color drains from her cheeks and all that tension rushes back into her eyes. “What is it?”
