Page 37 of Offside

He was clear the night we hooked up that he’s a one-and-done kind of guy and would remain a confirmed bachelor during the course of his career.

What’s changed? Does he just like the challenge? Is it the secret conquest that turns him on? Or does he just like the rejection?

None of that matters right now anyway and takes a backseat to his injury. After thirty minutes, Dr. Stanley finally opens the door and invites us to join them inside.

David gestures for me to enter first. I walk in to find Ballas’s head hanging low, his legs dangling over the edge of the table.

The doctor begins, his tone serious and firm. “Ballas, my initial assessment isn’t looking great. Your medical chart indicates you’ve been concussed numerous times in the past five years, which only compounds the severity level with each subsequent hit. You failed your recall and retention tests and have demonstrated several of the red flags on the assessment. My medical advice is for you to rest five to seven days and after each 24-hour period, if there’s any regression, add another day before you play again.”

“Fuck!” Ballas shouts angrily, slapping a palm down against the table loud enough and with enough vitriol behind it to shake my core.

I instinctively place my hand on his shoulder, uncertain whether it’s to calm him or comfort me.

“If it were up to me, I’d strongly recommend you consider an earlier-than-planned retirement. More hits like this could be dangerous to your future neurological function.”

The doctor makes notes on his tablet as the oxygen is sucked out of the room, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

“Dr. Stanley,” I interject. I have very little familiarity with concussion follow-up. “What should we do now? I mean, what should Ballas’s care include?”

The doctor clears his throat and removes his latex gloves.

“A lot can change in the span of a few hours with concussions. Ballas will need someone to be with him over the next twenty-four hours, which is a very critical period, and continued monitoring and evaluation after that for quite a while...”

My gaze snaps to Ballas, who is still pale but has more color than the gray pallor he wore when I first walked in.

“Do you have someone who can care for you, Ballas?” I don’t even know if he has family close by. The idea that he might have a girlfriend or a friends-with-benefits he would call on makes my stomach roll considering the proposition he made to me just last night after the fundraiser dinner.

If I find out he’s a cheater…

“I’ll be fine on my own. Never had a problem before.”

Dr. Stanley’s eyes meet mine over Ballas’s head and he gives a disapproving head shake.

“You will not leave this arena tonight without a chaperone to escort you,” he promises sternly, making notes on a chart. “And you need to refrain from any physical or cognitive demands for the next forty-eight hours. No driving, no alcohol or other substances…”

Ballas’s voice is weak but his response is provocative. “Does that include sex?”

I eyeball him but he just shrugs a shoulder and then winces in pain.

“Looks like you just answered your own question,” I retort and look at the physician, who is doing his best to keep a straight face. “I’ll make sure Ballas has someone to watch over him for the next two nights.”

With that, the doctor prints out several pages of the symptoms to watch out for that could put Ballas in harm’s way if not treated immediately.

As Dr. Stanley and David leave the room, we hear the final buzzer ringing through the open door, noting the end of the game. Ballas gingerly lifts his gaze to mine, quirking an eyebrow.

“Just who exactly are you assigning to my bedside tonight?”

Without missing a beat and without so much as a quiver in my voice, I reply, “Me.”

17

Ballas

“Remind me again why I’m here instead of at my place?”

My question echoes through the foyer as we enter Karis’s penthouse condo. The condo, she explained in the car on the way over, belongs to her uncle Marvin. She’s just living in it temporarily while she’s handling business in Vancouver. Karis didn’t want to buy anything for herself given the fact that she still hopes he’ll recover and return to Vancouver soon.

In the meantime, he’s receiving twenty-four-hour care at his mansion down in Seattle.

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