“What is that on your back?” Baylor asks, and I crane my neck around to try and see.
“I don’t see anything.”
Baylor plucks something from the center of my spine and holds it up for inspection. “Dude, you have a dick on your back.”
“I feel like there’s a joke in there somewhere,” Gibby comments, “but I can’t think of it right now.”
I’m fucking panicking, looking at the hot-pink piece of penis confetti on Baylor’s finger and trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for why it was there.
I swear on my life, I’m going to send Juliette’s friend a fifty-five gallon drum of cock confetti.
“That’s, uh, a practical joke some guys from Denver sent me. I think it’s called a confetti bomb. I’ve been finding the shit all over my house since last night.” The second part is true anyway. Dick confetti is surprisingly tenacious.
It sounds pretty believable, and Baylor seems to buy the explanation because he laughs. “Just further motivation to kick their asses on the ice tonight.”
And kick their asses we do. I’m having a game that will have me featured on multiple highlight reels tomorrow. I even scored a goal in the second period.
I’m feeling and playing like a beast, giving a metaphoricalfuck youto Roland Priestner, the owner of the Raptors and theman who fired me. Though I’m glad he did because it brought me to Juliette. Still, it feels good to be having a banner game in front of the man.
With only a minute left in the game, someone slams Baylor into the boards, and when he bounces off, he goes down hard.
And doesn’t get up.
My teammate has regained consciousness by the time I get to the medical room. They already have his gear and uniform off, but I’m still fully dressed in mine except for my skates. I tore my laces in my haste to get them off.
“Hey, man,” I say, pushing a smile I don’t feel onto my lips.
Baylor looks at me blankly for a second before asking, “Are you my daddy?”
My eyes widen in alarm… until I see his little smirk, and I laugh with relief. At least that fall didn’t knock his sense of humor away.
“You asshole. You’ll do anything for a little attention, won’t you?” I tease, nearing his bed on the side where there are the fewest medical personnel. He smiles, but it’s replaced by a flinch when someone shines a pen light in his eyes.
We’re joking and insulting like guys do when they don’t want to admit they’re scared. I loop our thumbs and press our palms together, almost like we’re shaking hands, but I place my other hand on the outside of his, sandwiching his between mine.
We stay silent like that while the medical team tosses around info about pupils and trauma and neurologists.
“You all right?” I finally ask quietly, and his eyes meet mine, telling me he’s not sure. I can tell his pupils are dilated from the blow.
“I’m dizzy,” he admits. “Will you make sure Holly and Jules get to the hospital okay? They rode to the game together. Aiden is with Aunt Nedra because he had the sniffles today.”
“I’ve got them,” I promise, impressed that he’s worried about his family even while he’s lying here with an injured brain. I hope I can be half the husband and father he is. I want to tell him that, but this isn’t the time for that discussion.
There’s a commotion outside the room, and I hear my dream girl’s insistent voice.
“I swear, Barney, if you don’t let us in, I’m gonna… I’m gonna be really mad at you.”
Then comes Holly’s unmistakable voice, ramping up the threat from about a ten to a hundred.
“Open the door right now, Barney, or I will rip off your balls and feed them to a snapping turtle.”
The door opens without pause, and the two women rush in, flanking Baylor’s bed, cooing and petting at him until the doc finally makes them step aside.
“We’re taking him to Presbyterian Hospital,” he informs them before looking at me. “Mr. Swain, you have time to shower and change while we get him loaded into the ambulance.”
I nod, though that’s the least of my worries. I wrap a sweaty arm around each woman’s shoulders. They don’t seem to mind. Everyone’s attention is on Baylor, who they’re now wheeling out the door. He gives us a thumbs up on his way out.
After the quickest, and admittedly not the most thorough, shower of my life, I’m in my silver SUV with Juliette beside me and Holly sitting quietly in the back, her head tilted against the window. My hand snakes over the console, and I press my bunny ears fingers against Juliette’s thigh. Her soft smile of appreciation warms my heart, and then she makes the sign back before grasping my hand.
