Page 108 of Dirty Pucking Player

But waiting sucks.

I’m so fucking sick of waiting. Waiting to make another mistake on the ice. Waiting to know if I’m going to be traded again. Waiting for that tension between Greer and me to finally come to a head. Waiting for her to fully give in to me. Waiting for the next time I could see her and have her under me. Waiting for Dad to die…

And now—I glance down at Greer’s blond hair splayed out across the pillowcase and the bruises and cuts covering her pale skin—waiting for her to wake up.

I sigh and drop into the chair I’ve spent the last several days in. Her small hand rests across her stomach, and I reach out and drag it to me, bringing it to my lips. The warmth of her skin should be a good sign, but her utter stillness makes it feel like I’m staring at merely a shell of the woman who has come to mean so much to me.

“You need to wake up, Coach.” I feather my lips across her fingertips. “We have so much to talk about.”

As the hours and hours have passed, I’ve tried my best not to worry. Not to panic like I did when I got the phone call from Jill to tell me Greer was in the hospital. But it was impossible not to then, when I was thousands of miles away and couldn’t get to her right away. And it’s getting more difficult not to now.

The more time that ticks by, the longer she’s out, the more dangerous it is for her. And now that they’ve stopped the medication that’s kept her unconscious the last few days, she should be waking up.

Should be…but she hasn’t yet.

I squeeze her hand and drop my forehead against her chest. The steady rise and fall of her even breathing and thudding of her heart offers me little comfort. I’m not sure anything could except her opening her eyes and talking to me.

After all this bullshit, I can’t lose her this way. I’m not sure I would survive it.

Losing has been a huge part of my life lately. I’ve lost more in the last six months than I did my entire life before that. And while I’ve learned some things need to be let go, Greer isn’t one of those.

Not by a fucking longshot.

She’s the thing you hold on to, what you cling to like a lifeline in a tempest, and she became mine without me even realizing it. Despite all my bravado, all the strength I portray on the ice and in life, the thought of losing her makes me feel completely adrift, like there isn’t anything left for me in the world if she’s gone.

You can’t leave me…

Her hand twitches in mine.

I jerk my head up. “Greer? Can you hear me?” Her lids flutter open slowly, and she blinks, struggling to focus on what’s in front of her from her reclined position. I jump to my feet and lean over her, squeezing her hand again. “Greer?”

Hazy green eyes finally meet mine, and her lips twitch into the tiniest smile. “Bash?”

“I’m here.” I grip her hand even tighter—maybe tighter than I should, given her condition. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She returns my squeeze, and that tiny gesture sends hope flooding through my veins for the first time in what feels like months. If she told me to take a fucking hike, she’d be well within her rights considering what I’ve done to her, but she seems happy to see me.

I brush hair back from her face, trying to avoid touching the various cuts and bruises. “Do you remember what happened?”

She groans and tries to sit, but I place a gentle hand against her chest.

“Don’t try to sit up.” I grab the call button and press it as I keep her prone. “Do you remember the accident?”

Her marred brow furrows, pulling at the stitched cut above her left eye. “Accident?” Her eyes flick above my shoulder, like she’s searching her memories, and suddenly widen. “I was on my way to the airport…”

I nod. “Yeah, you were. Do you remember where you were going?”

The guilt that she had been on her way to see me claws at my chest, just like it has ever since I learned of that little fact.

Her gaze cuts over to meet mine. “To come to you.”

I grin at her. “My sister told me. But…babe, that was four days ago.”

“Four days?”

I nod and settle back into the chair next to the bed. So many emotions swirl through me, and my shaking legs don’t seem to want to support me anymore. The sheer adrenaline that’s been keeping me running has finally dissipated, leaving behind sheer exhaustion.

How do I explain everything that’s happened?

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