Statistically, it was common to get a concussion playing soccer. I knew of the chances, but holy macaroni salad, it hurt like a mofo. I groaned, covering my eyes from the light of the training room. I wanted my bedroom, my fuzzy blanket, and zero lights.
They kept me in the training room until they did the CT scan and confirmed that I had a big whopper of a concussion. My first one, oddly. I’d been playing soccer my whole life, and today was winning bingo on the card for pain.
“Rest. Mental and physical, Romano.” The trainer squeezed my leg. “No practice for ten days. We’ll check then and maybe bring you back.”
“Ten days?” I groaned. “For real?”
“That’s an order. Nothing physical.” Something clicked, and I imagined she held a clipboard. I put my arm over my eyes to block the light so I couldn’t see what she was doing. “Your brother is outside, waiting to take you home. I have a list of recommendations for your care the next ten days. I’ll go over it with him too. You have someone who can watch over you tonight to ensure you don’t get worse?”
“Yes.” My fuzzy brain thought of Luca, his strong hands and heated gaze. But that made the pounding worse. No. I thought of Dean instead. “My brother. I live with him.”
“Excellent.”
She helped me sit up, and I winced at the brightness.
“Lorelei.” Dean came in the room, his hand going toward my shoulder. “Are you okay? They didn’t tell me shit.”
“Concussion.” Our trainer clicked her tongue. “I’m going to go over care instructions with you. She said she lives with you?”
“Yes. Tell me what you need.”
I tuned them out, my brain on a hiatus. She was tired. Their voices faded to cartoonish ones, and I swayed, dreaming of my bed and my pillows. Yes, they were feathers. Weightless. So comfy. Sighing, I rested my head on my brother’s shoulder. He’d get me home. Safe. I was grateful. My brother was the best. “Thanks, Dean. I love you.”
He patted my hand, and the rest of the night was hazy. I somehow got into his car. Someone strong carried me to my room. They smelled like home, but that couldn’t be Dean. He always smelled like too much cologne, but my brain wasn’t right.
“Mm.” I snuggled into the shoulders of whoever carried me. Their fabric was soft. It reminded me of Luca, but he wouldn’t do that. Dean would see us. Luca and I were done. “Pillow.”
“Almost to your room, Lo.”
God, my brain was playing tricks on me. Why did it want me to think of him when it hurt so much?
“So much light.” My headache throbbed from the brightness.
“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice said. Something soft touched my temple, like a kiss. Would Dean do that? No. That’d be strange as hell. “I’m going to set you in your bed, but we should change you out of your clothes. You don’t want to wear your jersey, do you?”
My face touched my bedsheets, and I sighed, so happy to be here. “Dean, why do you smell like Luca? Is my mind playing tricks on me?”
“No, baby, it’s me. I begged him to let me help you. I needed to make sure you were okay.” The voice grew soft, warm, and breath hit my face. “I’m going to take care of you tonight, okay?”
He cupped my face, running his fingers over my jaw and lips. I leaned into it, a purr coming out of me. “God, I fucking missed you.”
I smiled, hoping he’d see that in the dark. There was no way this was happening. It was a lucid dream or something. My Luca wouldn’t be this open with me.
“Can you sit up for a bit to take off your shirt?”
“No. Tired. Want sleep.”
“Okay. I’ll wake you up in a bit, and we’ll change you then.”
I briefly recalled him sliding into my bed with me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him. He was like my favorite sweatshirt, my favorite season, and favorite song all rolled into one. He was comfort and love, and I fell asleep within seconds, feeling safe in his arms.
“Hey.”
A gentle touch moved up and down my face, then around my ear. Goose bumps exploded down my body, and I opened my eyes. I was in my room, it was dark, and my head hurt like I had a migraine on steroids. “Ugh.”
“Can you sit up for me, please?”
“Luca.”
“Yeah, baby?”
His voice washed over me, warming me. “You’re in my bed.”
“Yes. I’m helping you tonight, and I need to make sure you’re safe. Could you sit up, and we’ll take your jersey off?”
“Uh, sure.”
He helped me sit up, his touch gentle, like I mattered to him. My thoughts were fuzzy, and my heart ached. We were broken up, yet we never dated. Why would he be here?
“Good girl. Okay, arms up, slowly.”
I obeyed, my head hurting as more questions filled it. “Why are you… what’s…”
“Hey, hey.” He took off my shirt and tossed it on the ground before tilting my head toward him. “I will answer every question after you sleep. The first two days after a concussion are hard, so I don’t want you to worry about anything except resting. Can you do that for me?”
I frowned, something nagging me, but I couldn’t place it. It was like trying to catch smoke from a burning match. It disappeared as soon as I saw it.
Luca caressed my face, his lips curving up on the side. “I can hear you thinking. Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want your sports bra off or on?”
“Off.”
“I’m going to remove it, okay? Then we’ll get you comfy, and you can sleep more.” Luca dipped a finger under the band and pulled the fabric over my breasts and head.
I never thought we’d be in this position again, but Luca didn’t stare at my chest at all. He tossed the bra on the floor and quickly put a shirt over my head. It was large and warm and smelled amazing. “It smells like you.”
“It’s my shirt. It’s comfy, and I figured it’d be easy to get on without pain.”
“Mm.” I burrowed into it, inhaling the detergent scent. “Thank you.”
“Of course, anything.” He pulled me to him again, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling his nose along my neck. “Rest, and tomorrow we can chat more.”
I woke up with my hands inside Luca’s shirt. He wore sweats that sat low on his hips, and in the morning fog, I forgot what day it was. I just wanted to feel his skin on mine. I crawled onto him so I lay on top of him, like I was his personal blanket, and he laughed.
“Good morning to you too.” He kissed my temple and ran his hands down my back. “How’s the head?”
“Bad. But not like jackhammers.” I snuggled into his neck, not caring that this wasn’t appropriate. “No lights though.”
“You got it. No lights, no thinking, no screen time. Those are the rules.” He held me against him, one hand on the back of my head and the other on the lower part of my back. His grip tightened, like he didn’t want to let go. “What do you prefer to eat? Toast? Eggs? Bacon?”
“Mm, bacon.”
“I’ll run to the store and get some. You stay here and rest, okay?” He patted my butt and moved me to the side.
I wanted to protest the loss of his heat, but bacon sounded good. “You’ll cook it for me?”
“Yes, baby, I’ll cook it for you. Anything you need.”
“Mm. I like that.” I smiled into my pillow, the gesture hurting a few seconds later. “I might nap again.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to leave your phone in my room so you’re not tempted to use it. Screen time can hurt, so if you need anything, just ring this bell. Callum or Dean will get you whatever you want. I won’t be gone long, an hour max, but I don’t want you worrying.”
“You’re fretting over me.”
“Yes, I am. Now let me.” He bent down and kissed my forehead. “Be right back, baby, keep the bed warm for me.”
“Luca.” I peeked one eye open and found him staring at me with so much love my throat hitched. He had a sheet of paper in his hands and a pen behind his ear, like he wrote a list of things to get me. My heart swelled. “Did you change your mind?” I whispered, not clarifying what I meant.
He knew.
His eyes softened, the lines around his mouth loosening as he smiled. “More like I got my head out of my ass, but that’s a conversation for when you’re better.”
Hope burst through my body, making me feel like flying.
“Okay.”
“Sleep, pretty girl. Let me take care of you.”
He left my room, shutting the door behind him, and I sighed, content despite the pain. We’d talk later, when I was better, and that sounded optimistic. Good even. I flipped to my other side just as deep voices came from the hall.
Dean. Luca.
My pulse raced, causing my head to ache, but I had to hear. They said my name, and that was what caught my attention. The fog settling over my mind faded enough for me to eavesdrop. I was still me, so obviously I’d listen in on their chat. I had questions, ones that weren’t quite able to form yet, but I tensed. Luca had just left my bedroom, and Dean was outside.
Does he… know?
“I’m heading to the store to get some food for her, then I’ll make breakfast,” Luca said. There wasn’t any meanness to his tone.
“And she slept okay? You were there all night?”
“Yes and yes. She’s groggy but doing better. I stayed by her side the entire time.”
Dean cleared his throat. “Thanks, man. Uh, you really don’t have to do this.”
“Dean.” Luca’s voice dropped. “You wouldn’t have been able to stop me. I told you how I felt, and nothing’s changing. Now, if you want to see her, wait an hour. She needs to rest again.”
“You really care for her,” Dean said.
They spoke quiet now, in whispers. I strained my ears, but there was no way to be sure what they said. My pulse sped up, the zing of hope coursing through my veins. It sounded like Luca had told Dean about me… but there was no way.
Football. His grandma.
He wouldn’t.
I faded, my mind shutting down just as the phrase I love her carried through the door. It had to be my injury. Just because I wanted to hear those words didn’t mean Luca said them. He definitely cared about me, but he’d never veer off course.
