Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(76)

“I hardly remember the game.”

“Do you remember getting hit?”

“Sort of, not really. All that’s fuzzy.”

“It was a great play, though. You caught that bullet like a fucking champ.”

“’Course I did.”

He snorted softly. “Good to see your ego’s still intact despite that blow.”

“Are you offering?” I tried for seductive, but considering my current state with an IV in my arm and propped in a hospital bed, it was dicey. It all felt like overkill for a concussion, but no one had wanted to take any chances.

Ramsey’s amused gaze traveled the length of my body, lingering at the sheet pulled over my lap. “Pretty sure all the monitors and IVs you’re hooked up to would make that difficult.”

“If you really loved me, you’d figure it out.”

He chuckled. “Patience. We’ve got many blowjobs ahead of us, I hope. And besides, it’s much more fun when you can actually get hard.”

A knock on the door cut off my gasp of mock offense. Houston poked his head inside. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but the nurse needs to check your vitals and go over some notes.”

“She can come in,” I told him.

His gaze moved between me and Ramsey before settling on our intertwined fingers. “All good here?”

“All good,” Ramsey answered just as I said, “Extremely good.”

“Jesus. Holidays are about to get even more annoying.” Houston shook his head, but I didn’t miss his smile as he turned away, shutting the door.

“I told the person at the front desk you were my partner,” Ramsey said.

“Really?” Damn, that made me smile.

“Yeah, I was panicking, thinking they wouldn’t let me in and, well, I was hoping I wouldn’t end up being wrong.”

“Did it freak you out to say it aloud?”

Ramsey considered. “Nope. It felt good. The kind of good that makes me look forward to saying it more.”

“You can say it as often as you want from now on.”

“I plan on it.”

The nurse swept inside after a short rap on the door, an iPad in her hand.

“Can I go yet? Say yes, or this guy’s gonna jailbreak me.”

She chuckled. “Not quite yet, but almost.”





I was out of the hospital and cleared for flying three days later, and despite Ramsey’s promise to stay by my side, I’d all but shoved him out the door the next morning so he could get back to Denver for practice before the second round of playoffs, which I’d be watching from the sidelines since I was in concussion protocol. I hoped I’d be able to keep playing for the Rush, but word from Coach that we’d be meeting with the Rush management the Thursday before the next game had me on edge.

Today was the day, and we were ushered into one of the stadium’s conference rooms in the early evening, the peaceful swirl of snow outside the windows at odds with my pounding heart.

“It’ll be okay.” Ramsey spoke low, fingertips brushing the back of my arm as we filed in, along with our agents. But I wasn’t so sure.

Across the long table sat Coach Baker, Jack Terrapin, the Rush’s general manager, and Paul Marsh, from the Rush’s PR and media department.

I swiped at the sweat beading my brow as Coach gestured for us to sit. “How you feeling McRae?”

“Antsy to play.”

Their muted laughter sounded polite, which didn’t help the anxiety jittering through my veins.

Ramsey sat down beside me, our agents flanking us, and Coach considered us for a long moment before rubbing a hand over his forehead and exhaling a sigh. “Not in all my years of coaching have I been in a situation like this.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ramsey’s jaw clench as he looked over the trio. “I told you before, if it’s an issue, you can trade me.”

I shot a look sideways. “You told him what? Are you crazy?”

“Maybe.” Ramsey smiled and offered a helpless shrug that made me want to grab his face and kiss him right there.

“Don’t trade him.” I turned back to them. “That would be a dumb move. Trade me if you have to.”

My agent, Bowling, put a staying hand up. “Hold on now. Everyone here is aware of the situation, yes?”

“Well aware,” Terrapin said. I couldn’t get a read on his expression. It was too carefully neutral, which wasn’t exactly reassuring. But fuck it, I knew now what mattered most to me. There was no going back. The press of Ramsey’s leg against mine said it was mutual.

Allen, Ramsey’s agent, said, “And it’s also safe to assume that everyone is well aware there’s no official language in the rules forbidding teammates from being in a relationship.”

“Not technically, no.” Terrapin leaned forward, folding his arms over the table. “That doesn’t mean it’s not an issue.”

Fuck. My heart sank even as Ramsey’s knee nudged mine reassuringly again. I hadn’t even wanted the Rush at first, I reminded myself. I could get used to playing somewhere else. Ramsey and I could… I didn’t even know, but we’d figure it out. Still, the idea of not practicing with him, not seeing him every day, gutted me. I forced an understanding nod, though, because I knew we’d put them in a tough position.