Page 21 of Fever Dream
harrison
The rest of our week falls into something of a familiar pattern filled with dawn Pilates on the green, a swim at the club and rotations of football drills and ice skating. Dean Hampton takes Casey for fitness training at some point each day and then he’s on my treatment bed making those sounds I am not yet immune to.
As expected, Casey picks up ice skating with no trouble and I’m there firsthand to witness his famous competitive spirit as soon as I bring out the hockey sticks. But I think we spend more time laughing than competing.
I’ve been doing my best to keep some sort of boundary between me and the guy who doesn’t know the meaning of the word, but it’s not easy. Especially as Casey doesn’t understand personal space and has perfected the artform of puppy dog eyes. And let’s not even mention the way he bats his lashes at me. That’s when I know I’m done for.
Problem is, he knows it too.
So I’ve spent more time at his house this week than I wanted to and we’ve shared dinner nearly every night of the week, alternating between me cooking for us and ordering take out.Casey has no idea how to cook, and I find that both amusing and baffling. Lucky for both of us, I do know how to cook, and I’d like to think I’m not too bad at it either.
The biggest problem I’m finding though is that Casey is an awesome guy. Yes, he’s gorgeous and straight up fuckable but that’s not all I’m seeing when I look at him. He’s super fun and cheeky and sweet and just all round enjoyable to be with. I don’t even mind the fact he has no boundaries because he wouldn’t be Casey if he did. And yes, those lack of boundaries cause me some personal issues, and yes, I find myself in an almost constant state of arousal when he’s around. And no, I have not found a way to immunise myself against the sight of him in Speedos.
But I’m not fighting being around him as much as I did at the start. I like the guy. Sue me.
But now it’s Thursday afternoon and I have just received an email from the radiology centre where Casey went for scans this morning. I take a deep breath as I open the results before calling Ben McLean over for a look and we pour through the scans like the Fever’s entire season depends on it.
Which, yeah, it kind of does.
***
I suck in a deep breath of air, steel my resolve and knock on the door. It takes a moment before Casey arrives on the doorstep, breathless and beautiful like he’s run down the stairs. His dirty blonde hair is pushed back from his face and my stomach makes its customary swoop with the intense way he looks at me with those blue-green eyes.
“Harry,” he smiles. “I didn’t think you were coming over tonight.”
“Can I come in?” I ask, weirdly formal considering the last two weeks we’ve spent together. Casey picks up on it immediately.
“Of course,” he says, knocking back the door. I step inside and follow him to the lounge which overlooks the beautiful outside pool, lit up with underwater lights.
“Case,” I begin, ignoring those big eyes as they look up at me. I just have to get this out. “I’m going to recommend to Mick Brabham tomorrow that you stay on the sidelines this week.”
There’s no way to sugarcoat this news but I know he’s still not expecting it either. That’s not how Casey operates. He fully planned on running out onto the field for opening round this weekend, but I just can’t let that happen. But I don’t expect the devastation in his eyes as he blinks up at me, almost with an air of betrayal I feel in my stomach.
“Harry, no,” he says, kicking me deep in the gut.
“I’m sorry, Casey. I know how much this means to you—”
“No, you don’t, Harry,” he replies. “You don’t know what it means. Because if you knew you wouldn’t be doing this to me. Playing this week meanseverythingto me.”
“I get it, Casey. I do,” I reiterate firmly. “I know how much playing means to you. How much you’ve given for your career. And that is the reason I am recommending you spend another week on the sidelines. Because I want you to be playing the week after this one. And I want you to be playing at the end of the season, and in three years’ time. And maybe even in ten years’ time. But that cannot happen unless we take this injury as seriously as it needs to be taken. I’m not just thinking about this week’s game when I make this call, Casey. I’m thinking about your career.”
He says nothing, those eyes filling with all the emotions in the world. I feel him everywhere, his devastation an unstoppable force. This is why Coach told me he would break the news toCasey. He knew what it would mean to him to hear this news. But I owe this to Casey. After everything he’s put in this last fortnight to be ready for this game, done everything I asked without question, I owe him this.
After an unfathomable amount of time where I’m sure the universe stops spinning, he finally nods, acknowledging my words. He shuts his eyes on a sigh. I feel my own heart breaking at his heartbreak, wishing I could carve out my own adductor muscle and give it to him so he could play this week.
“I’m sorry, darling,” I say, unable to stop the term of endearment from slipping out. “I wanted this more than you can know. And I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure your name is on that list for the next game.”
“I know,” he finally concedes, his voice quiet and shaky. My arm trails around his shoulders before I can stop myself and it’s like he reads it as an invitation as he drops his head to my shoulder. My hands thread through the soft strands of his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he processes the news.
“We’ll get through this, Case,” I murmur. “We’ll make you the best player you can possibly be. Fitter, stronger, faster. It won’t be long until you’re winning all the league MVP awards.”
He’s quiet for another moment, breathing in air as he rests on my shoulder. “Brownlow,” he finally says.
“What’s that?”
“The league MVP. It’s called the Brownlow.”
“And let me guess, winning the Brownlow was on your whiteboard plan back home?”
