Page 41 of Power Play

“Eh.”

I stare at her. “Eh?”

Riley’s cool facade cracks and she bursts into giggles. Instantly, I’m warmed from the inside out, her happiness radiating through the room.

“It was really cool. Now I see what all the fuss is about.”

Emmy hiccups, catching my attention, and I reach for my daughter. “Is she still fussy?”

“A little. She doesn’t like that I won’t let her take off her shoes.”

With a chuckle, I kiss Emmy’s forehead. “I’m sorry, my princess. Your mommy only wants to protect you.”

Heat radiates off her forehead where we’re connected, and I frown, pulling away to check out her flushed skin. At first, I chalked it up to her crying fit, but she’s calm now and still pink in the cheeks. She slept through the night, the first time since her last tooth broke through.

“What’s wrong?” Riley asks, setting her hand on my forearm. Warmth spreads through me at the innocent contact.

“Does her skin feel warm to you?”

“A little. And she’s been grumpy…” She runs a finger over the baby’s cheek, and when Emmy doesn’t even smile, I know something’s wrong.

“We need a doctor. Is her pediatrician open today?”

It’s a Friday, but it’s also a holiday. I don’t even know the doctor’s name off the top of my head; her number is saved in my phone contacts. Riley knows, though. She took her to a well-baby appointment while I was on a road trip two weeks ago. I wanted to be there, but it’s not like I can change the league schedule, and this doctor is in high demand. I only want the best for my girl.

Riley shakes her head. “We can go to urgent care. The pediatrician recommended one for situations like this.”

“Okay. Perfect.”

Without realizing what I’m doing, I duck down and kiss her. It’s just a quick brush of lips, completely innocent.

But when I hear her sharp intake of breath, I know I’ve messed up.

Fuck.

“Sorry,” I mutter, shifting Emmy in my arms. “Let’s get out of here.”

Heat floods her cheeks and she steps away. I’m kicking myself for ruining this when she comes back with the stroller and diaper bag. Once Emmy is settled, I sling the pink quilted bag over my shoulder and take over pushing the stroller.

A few staff members give us weird looks as we navigate through the arena, but I don’t pay them any mind. The only thing I can think of is ruining the fragile friendship Riley and I have.

And tomorrow night we have the gala… I shake my head. Coach will understand if I don’t show. Emmy comes first. She has to.

The pediatric urgent care is only a few blocks from the house. I’ve never noticed the building before. Not that I would’ve had a reason to. Until now. We rush inside, Emmy sniffling and crying, and I go straight to the front desk. A harried-looking nurse glances up from her computer with a frown.

“Something is wrong with my baby.” I shift Emmy in my arms, until she’s peeking over my shoulder, but even her favorite position doesn’t soothe her.

The nurse’s eyes widen. “Did they fall or hit their head?”

“No. She’s warm and grumpy and I—something is wrong.”

Riley sets her hand on my arm, and instantly, some of my panic recedes. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

“She’s seven months, her last shots were two weeks ago, and she’s generally pretty happy. No colic or reflux. This has been going on for less than twelve hours.”

The nurse nods. “Fill this out, and someone will be right with you.” She hands the clipboard to Riley.

We sit in the crowded waiting room, surrounded by coughing, sneezing, sniffling children. Everyone looks miserable.