Page 71 of Fever Dream
I clear my throat, pushing away from Casey. What the hell was I thinking? Kissing him like that in the middle of a game. My eyes trail down his body to the prominent erection on display. There’s no hiding that thing in those football shorts.
“Get on the bed,” I hiss.
“At least buy me dinner first,” Casey chuffs as he dives onto his stomach, hiding the evidence from view just as Tim opens the door. I have no doubt my face is flushed and I’m breathing like I’ve run an ultra-marathon, but the good doctor doesn’t notice as he steps over to Casey.
I belatedly step back to the bed, pretending as though I am just here treating my star patient like I should have been doing as Tim holds Casey’s eyes, checking for signs of delayed concussion.
“Got those words for me?” he asks.
“Something about monkeys and tigers?” Casey grins. Tim just raises a brow at him and Casey sighs. “Monkey, apple, bubble, tiger, purple,” he repeats.
“Good. Follow my finger,” Tim says. I’m relieved he can do these exercises with Casey on his stomach. “Alright, good. I’m clearing you to play.”
“Excellent,” Casey says, immediately shifting out from under me.
“Nope. Coach wants you down here until the last quarter,” Tim explains. “There’s only two minutes left, and he wants you fresh.”
“What’s the score?” Casey asks.
Tim hesitates before he says, “Devereux kicked your penalty goal, but the Dragon’s piled on three straight goals while you were down here.”
“Dammit,” Casey groans. I feel his pain. I want the win for the Fever just as bad as he does.
Tim leaves and Casey shares a guilty smile with me. Yeah, we just got away with murder and we both know it. I should feel regret, but I don’t. I can’t. This is the kind of thing I’m going to have to get used to if I continue this thing with Casey—watching him take hits like that to his body. It won’t be the last time he takes a hit, and I know I’m going to have to be better prepared for next time.
Casey climbs off the bed and stalks towards me, pinning me up against the wall as we hear the third quarter siren blare from the ground above.
“Later, Harrison,” he says, nothing but heat and intent in his pretty eyes. “You don’t leave here without me tonight, okay?”
I can only nod, words evaporated again as Casey eyes me one final time before he leaves me standing there, a mixture of emotions and my mind like molten lava.
CHAPTER 26
casey
Ihave an enormous personal point to prove and a career defining match to win. These are things that must happen before I can let myself think about that stolen kiss with Harrison Thornfield and the promise of what is happening later tonight.
I need this win. I need it for the club. I need it for Harrison. I need it for Mick Brabham, and I need it for my teammates. But most of all I need it for me.
We’re three goals down at the start of the last quarter. Some might say that’s an insurmountable lead against a quality opposition like the Dragons. But I’m fresh despite that dirty hit and I have something else up my sleeve—something nobody else can bring to this field. And that isutter fucking beliefthat we can win this thing.
Nobody expects us to. The odds are so heavily in the Dragon’s favour that we’ll be giving the bookies nightmares if we pull this off.
I make it into the team huddle where I catch James’s eye. Whatever he sees in me he brings to the team because it’s apparent we all want this just as bad. And I love the boys for this—and not just for the fact they want to extract some revenge for that ugly hit on me.
Rouse has apparently been reported by the match officials for that late tackle that took me down. I expect he’ll be scrubbed out for a few games. Pity we don’t do red cards in our league because otherwise he’d be on the bench. Rouse has always been a dirty player, but it didn’t worry me so much when he was on my side.
We take to the field. The crowd is overwhelmingly on our side and they’re here to drag us over the line. The fact I am back out on the field has lifted everyone’s spirits and I feel like it’s time for the football gods to shine down on us tonight.
The siren wails, the umpire bounces the ball for the centre bounce and it’s game back on.
And guess what? Looks like the football godsdoturn up because I immediately get my hands on Lawson’s hit out and I am off like the clappers, ducking and weaving past the Dragon’s midfield line until I’m clear to take a kick into the forward line. Howarth marks on a lead, takes the set shot and converts the goal. The whole play took forty seconds to execute and will certainly feature in the game’s highlights reel.
Two goals down.
Three minutes later Izak scores again and the crowd suddenly senses the swing in momentum.
One goal down.
