Page 94 of Playing His Game

There was no way Jorts wouldn’t tell her. There went the only real friend Mo had outside of Sage.

He couldn’t even make himself believe he didn’t deserve it.

Jorts pushed himself upright and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, now’s not a great time anyway. He’s got another five minutes before I wake him up and then I’ve got to take him to the doctor to get his head examined. But I’ll pass on a message, if you want.”

What were they, third graders? But Mo figured he couldn’t hope for a better deal from someone who—well, who seemed to have appointed himself as the man keeping Adam safe.

Too bad he hadn’t done his job on the ice.

Mo flattened his lips into a line and finally nodded. “Yeah, all right. Tell him I came by? And said he should take better care of what’s left of his brain. Uh, and I guess he can… call me if he needs anything. Or wants to talk. Or whatever.”

“I’ll do that.” He sounded sincere enough, so Mo had no choice but to say thanks and walk away.

And ignore the feeling there was something he’d forgotten to say.

The doctors said exactly what Adam expected—concussion grade three, no idea how long recovery would take. For now, listen to his body, track his symptoms, and limit screen time and physical activity.

In other words, do all the things athletes were bad at.

Jorts stayed with him for the rest of the day, despite Adam telling him to go home.

“You got someone else to hold your hair back while you puke?” Jorts arched a brow.

Maddison came by in the afternoon, hugged them both hello—very gently, in Adam’s case—then loaded the fridge and freezer with food.

“You going to take him with you?” Adam asked from his spot, lying prone on the couch.

“As if I could tear him away.” She laughed, running a hand over Jorts’s shoulder.

“He’s so annoying, isn’t he?”

“Hey,” Jorts cut in, “don’t talk to your hockey father like that.”

Adam fell asleep before Maddison left, and woke up who knew how many hours later to Jorts gently shaking him.

“Time for some water and a brain check.”

Adam groaned but sat up, ignoring the pounding of his head at the change in position.

He even managed a few nibbles of toast and sips of a protein shake without throwing it back up.

His stomach mostly stayed settled for the next few days, which was a good thing considering he was about to lose his nanny. The Canyons had an away game, so Jorts had no choice but to leave the following morning. Not before checking several times that Adam was tracking and able to get his own food.

For the first hours after Jorts left, Adam couldn’t say he missed him, because he passed out again. Then he woke up, muddled, with no idea what time it was. Not being able to look at screens sucked when your clocks were digital. Even the blue readout on the oven swam.

He’d just gone back to the couch and was wondering how he could pass the time without Jorts to take his mind off the bright lights or his pounding head, when someone knocked at the front door.

He shuffled to the foyer.

“You look like shit.” Judging from Mo’s wide eyes, that had come out without permission.

“Thanks,” Adam said dryly. He felt like it too. “You say the sweetest things.”

Mo snorted. “Go sit down before you fall down.”

Adam didn’t want to argue, but… “What are you doing here?”

“The Canyons have an away game. I figured you’d lost your babysitter.”