Page 49 of Offside

There is no denying this is going to happen. Under Karis’s all-business disguise, she’s a vulnerable woman who brings out the beast in me. A man who wants to protect and comfort her. To be there for her.

To love her.

“Karis, don’t fight this,” I declare in a harsh whisper. “You can let go with me. I’m yours to use.”

22

Karis

“How’s he doing today, Daria?”

I hate that I haven’t been down to Seattle for over a week now to visit Marv, but I’ve had to remain in Vancouver with the new hockey season in full swing.

Liar.

I’ve stayed here for another reason. His name is Ballas Keeney.

I do check in on Marv every morning when Daria is there to get an update on his status though. It’s also a way for me to chat with Daria, who has become such a confidant for me during this transition.

Daria hums into the phone. “Oh, sweetie, nothing has changed. His vitals were a little low, O2 dipped overnight, and it looks like he may have a kidney infection. I’ll monitor his urine output today and of course we’ll get him on antibiotics if needed. Otherwise, he’s stable.”

I anxiously bite my fingernail as if it’s done something to anger me.

Daria is fully aware of my feelings on keeping Marv comfortable and healthy as long as we can and has never once suggested I’m not doing the right thing.

We’ve had gut-wrenching conversations about what it means to keep him on this type of life support long-term. Most people with a family member in this state would proceed with a plan to end the life support. I know this and have weighed the pros and cons. Which is why I promised myself I’d give it a year in the hope that he might show some signs of improvement. If he develops any problematic conditions that require intervention, I will make the call then.

There is no greater burden than having the life of someone you love in your hands. The decision has consequences I’m not yet ready to deal with unless the situation is so dire there is no other option.

“Thank you, Dar.”

“Honey, you know you’re more than welcome. He’s in good hands. Speaking of which, I had the sports news on this morning for your uncle and saw that one of your players was injured in the game last night. Ballas something-or-other?”

Hearing his name transmits little shock waves to my heart and a zap of heated sensation to my core.

I clear my throat, hoping my voice sounds normal and not dreamy and smitten like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Yes, Ballas Keeney, one of our D-men but it’s nothing serious. He just needs a bit of rest before going back to the ice.”

I’m sure Dar can read between the lines, and although I trust her implicitly with my uncle, I’m unable to share the specific injury details of any of our players. If other teams or the press got wind of the injury, it could show a weakness to be exploited. That’s why, in all our press releases, we simply indicate whether the player suffered an upper or lower body injury and their expected duration on the injured reserve list.

In Ballas’s case, we’ve left it as week-to-week, based on his progress.

“And are you getting the rest you need, my dear? I don’t want you to overtax yourself.” She pauses and I hear the beeps of the heart monitor and the whoosh of air from the ventilator in the background. These are sounds that roam in my head and keep me up at night with worry. “Well, I should let you get back to your work. And the patient is going to get a sponge bath today. I’ll see you next week?”

“I’ll do my best. Talk to you soon.”

My heart sinks as I end the call. I sit down in my chair and drop my chin to my chest, staring down at my feet as I lament over this horrible situation.

But something inexplicably amazing happens that lifts my grief. Instead of getting mired in my troubles, I recall the image of Ballas between my bare thighs, and the way his mouth and fingers brought me to climax earlier this morning. It was a euphoric high that left me flooded with new emotions.

I just wish I hadn’t spiraled out of control into an emotional outburst, ruining the moment and my afterglow immediately afterward.

I left a stunned and confused Ballas in the kitchen, my lips still burning from that searing kiss he gave me, then retreated to the home office. I told him I had to work and I’d check on him in a while.

The work excuse was legitimate because my workweek is never truly over. It may be a Sunday morning but during hockey season, I’ve quickly learned these roles don’t give me any pause to rest.

Coach Thomas and the team flew out to Calgary this morning to start a short road trip, leaving Ballas on the injured reserve list. It also meant Nate and I spoke about who we’d use to replace Ballas while he’s out and the plans he and Coach have to finesse the roster.

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