Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,13

years of higher education really pays off, huh?”

Rory rolled her eyes. “You’re not subtle, Jude.”

“I don’t need to wish for it.” I pointed at her. “I just need clearance to play.”

“You know what my answer will be.” Rory shifted, pretending to watch the six rookies perform their rousing rendition of It’s Raining Men. “Don’t put me in this position, Jude.”

“I’m only asking for a chance.” I grinned as the waitress returned. “Don’t make the decision now. We haven’t eaten yet.”

Rory stared at her burger and quesadilla, but her fork sunk into the cake first. She gave the chocolate a tentative lick.

Lucky cake.

I stared at my food. Apparently, poutine was made of French fries, brown gravy, and…

“Oh God…” Rory covered her eyes. “What is that?”

“Cheese.”

“That’s not cheese.”

“You gotta get off your tuffet, Miss Muffet.”

“Excuse me?”

“They’re cheese curds. Want a bite?”

“Dear God, no.” She turned away from the bowl, but, after a long moment, she shrugged. “It smells good. Just don’t let me see it.”

I loaded a French fry dripping with gravy onto her fork. A bit of cheese melted onto the bite.

Rory hummed as she swallowed. “That’s really good.” The fork returned. “Can I have another?”

“We’ll share it.”

I reloaded the fork with another French fry and all the gravy it could sop up. She took her bite, groaned a beautiful sound of contentment, and dipped a finger in her chocolate icing.

“I know,” she said. “I’m a freak.”

“You’re not a freak,” I lied. “I’m just glad you’re smiling.”

“Well…this is kinda fun.”

“Yeah?”

Her tongue licked at a spec of chocolate still sweetening her finger. She gave it a lap and nearly stopped my heart.

“You’ve always been fun, Jude. It’s why I once had a…” She gave a nervous laugh. “No. Never mind.”

“What?”

“Seriously. It’s the hormones talking.”

“I’m interested in what they’re saying.”

She rolled her eyes. “Besides feed me, take a nap, throw that up, and freak out about losing your slipper?”

“All valid concerns.”

She looked away. “I’m worried about you, that’s all. Your last concussion was absolutely frightening. I watched them load you into the ambulance, Jude. On the stretcher.”

“And I recovered.”

“People don’t recover from injuries like that. It doesn’t take a neurology specialty to realize it. And I think if you were really honest, you’d agree.”

I usually loved silence, but this moment lasted too long.

I flinched as Lachlan keyed up a song that set my teeth on edge.

“This one is dedicated to our newest running back!”

The Rivets hooted and clapped the instant he began to sing.

“Hey Jude…”

Rory stole the fork and attacked the poutine herself. “You hate this song.”

“My mother didn’t.”

“…Let her under your skin…”

“The team is excited to have you.” Rory ducked her head, avoiding the curious glances of the guys as I saluted Lachlan with my raised beer. “They all respect you. I know they’d love for you to sign.”

“Sounds like a but to me…”

“…world upon your shoulders…”

Rory held my gaze. “There’s pressure to keep playing this game. Even more to hide injuries and pretend you’re healthy enough to suit up.”

“Doc—”

“…play it cool…”

“If you decided to retire, it wouldn’t make you weak. Especially after that hit. No one wants to retire on an injury, but if it means you’ll stay healthy?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I’ll help you. If I don’t clear you to play, then the decision is out of your hands. You’d be following doctor recommendations.”

“I’m not quitting. Not until I have that championship ring on my finger.”

“…is on your shoulders…”

It wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“All it takes is one bad hit,” Rory said. “You need to think about your quality of life ten, fifteen years down the line. The longer you play, the more you risk serious conditions like chronic traumatic encephalopathy—”

I’d heard it before. It didn’t change my mind. “People play with worse injuries than mine. We’ll figure out a way to make it work. You gotta…think outside the box.”

“Which box? The coffin?”

“You’re overreacting.”

“I’m concerned.”

“…let her under your skin…”

“I can’t prove to you I’m healthy over one dinner, and you can’t assess me with a five-minute test. So I need you to believe me, Rory. I was hurt. I got better. I’m feeling stronger than ever.”

She frowned. “Wow. Denial must be fun. I should try it. Hmm…a single, unwed mother is always treated with respect. A pregnancy won’t impact my job at all. Maybe they make lead-lined Mobi wraps so I can take the baby in with me when I do CT scans on my patients!”

The idea flashed in my head.

Sudden. Fierce. Just as sharp as