a figure of speech. The same can’t be said for Jordan Donovan. When she says she has thought through the first third of the alphabet, she damn well means it.
Holy hell, she’s sketched out a response to scenarios I didn’t even think were a possibility.
Kay lets out her ninth yawn, last night’s events clearly still taking their toll on her body. I’m shocked my little anti-morning person hasn’t made a demand for coffee. Then again, having experience with concussions, she knows caffeine is one of the things you should avoid. I wonder if I have to worry about her doing me physical harm if I get a cup for myself.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me it’s been hours since I put anything substantial in it. As if it set off a chain reaction, everyone else’s follows suit.
Bette, taking on her mom role, pushes to her feet, arms rising overhead in a stretch and offering to grab breakfast sandwiches from the hospital’s cafeteria.
“I’ll go with you,” Em says through her own yawn. “Do you think I could convince one of the nice nurses to hook me up to an IV drip of coffee?”
“Don’t even think about it.” Bette spins and points the mom finger at Kay, who blinks innocently.
“Not as fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it, Squirt?” E shoots a finger gun Kay’s way, exaggerated sound effect included.
“Don’t act like you were an angel with your concussion at the beginning of the season, Eric,” Bette counters.
“I love when she hits him with an Eric,” JT stage-whispers to B.
“Oh yeah, crack that whip, B Boss.” B mimes cracking said whip, adding a woopah at the end for good measure.
“Children…the lot of you.” Though tired, there’s a smile tugging at the edges of Bette’s lips as she and Em make their way to the door once again. Before they reach it, though, it swings open, letting in my motley crew with a looking-far-too-awake Trav leading the charge.
The smells of grease, eggs, and coffee follow in the wake of my teammates, and it’s then I notice each has a white paper bakery bag or cardboard coffee carrier in his hands.
“Damn, Short Stack.” Trav whistles through his teeth as he comes to a stop at the foot of Kay’s hospital bed.
“Is that your charming way of telling me I look like shit, QB1?”
“No way, babe.” My jaw tightens at my best friend’s blatant attempt to fuck with me by flirting with her, especially when he moves in to drop a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “You’re still too pretty for this asshole.” He hooks a thumb my way, and I flip him the bird.
“Move your ass, McQueen.” Alex hip-checks him out of the way.
“For reals…” Noah does the same to Alex as soon as he pulls away from giving Kay a hug. “Stop hogging all the attention.”
“Always acting like he’s her favorite because he’s Nova’s best friend,” Kev adds.
Quinn pushes her way through the idiots sharing a three-way exploding fist bump, and hands Kay one of the paper bags. “Wasn’t sure what you’re cleared to eat, so I got you—”
“We,” a quartet of football players corrects.
“—a bunch of soft options,” Quinn continues, ignoring the guys completely. “There’s a yogurt, a banana, some apple sauce, and a blueberry muffin in here. I figure you eat what you can now and the rest will keep if you want it later.”
“Thanks Q,” Kay says around another yawn, fading fast.
Noticing a bottle of orange juice—Kay’s second-favorite morning beverage—amongst the coffees on the carrier, I get up to grab it, my palm gliding across the condensation collecting on the plastic and twisting to crack the seal.
“Hey!” Trav holds his arms out in a What about me? gesture, doing his best to play up being hurt. “Where’s our thank you?”
“Aww…” Em drags out the word playfully as Quinn squeezes onto the chair with her. “I think someone’s looking to have their ego stroked.”
“I’m not stroking anything on Trav,” Kay deadpans.
I try to bite back my smile and fail miserably. When I first tried to get to know Kay, she was a ball-busting spitfire. To be fair, she still is. She can hurl insults as well as any guy in a locker room.
“What are you smiling about?” There’s laughter dancing in Kay’s gray eyes as she shifts her attention my way.
“You know I love when you give him shit.”
“HA!” Grayson barks out a laugh, coffee spewing from his nose.