Game On (Game On 1)

The only person who disliked McCoy more than me was Will. Even in my stunned state, I couldn’t help but see the humour of Will being the person with him.

“I need to get back to the match,” Richard said. “I’ll call you if I hear anything more, but I think he’ll be fine.”

Chapter 5: How Evil Do You Think I Am?

Even without McCoy we won the match 3-0, but the team celebrations were a little subdued. Away wins usually ended with bucket loads of drinks, however, everyone was still tired from clubbing the night before and too worried about McCoy to fully enjoy another drinking binge. I waited up with Miguel and Freya for news but after trying to call Will several times and not getting through, we gave up and went to bed.

It had taken me hours to fall asleep. There were many times I’d imagined knocking McCoy out cold myself, but seeing him unconscious for real was a whole different matter. I still hadn’t shrugged off the unease I’d felt when it happened and it was as annoying as it was uncomfortable. It had become the norm to push any thoughts of him right out of my head, so having him nestled inside my brain for the night made sleep even more difficult.

A call from Richard woke me early the next morning. Freya must have already gone to breakfast. She’d left her bed sheets in a tangle and half on the floor. I’d barely seen or heard her move all night, yet she’d still managed to make a mess.

Maybe this is why she and Will aren’t dating. All that untidiness would give him the shakes.

I pressed the answer button on my phone and listened as my boss informed me that McCoy had suffered a concussion, and was brought back to the hotel after he’d been seen by a doctor. Hearing he wouldn’t suffer any long term damage was a relief, but that relief soon diminished when Richard asked me to check on him. Apparently my concern qualified me to play nurse while Richard and Will put together a plan in case he wasn’t fit to fly home.

I was never filled with enthusiasm about talking to McCoy, but visiting him meant I could legitimately satisfy my curiosity without feeling weak for wanting to find out how he was. It was nothing more than common courtesy that made me want to check on him, of course.

At room 316, I knocked on the door and was greeted by Bryce.

Damn, I love my job.

There were a million women who would have loved to make an early morning call to McCoy and Warren, and I got paid for it.

“Hi,” I said, “I’ve come to visit the patient.”

Bryce glanced over his shoulder at McCoy, before turning back to me. “Good timing. I’ve got to go. Take it easy on him, he’s a little sensitive.”

“How evil do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re evil,” Bryce said with a smile. “I just think he’s extra touchy today.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

Bryce winked as he slid past me, leaving me to enter McCoy’s room.

Wow, this place could do with a clean. I didn’t envy the hotel staff who’d have to throw out all the crap they’d managed to accumulate over the last two days. The bin was overflowing with God knows what, and Bryce’s clothes were strewn all over. The air smelled a little musty, probably due in part to the mess and the closed window. I’m no neat freak, but my fingers twitched to at least pick the shirts up from the floor.

McCoy was lying on his bed wearing boxer shorts and a scruffy grey t-shirt. He'd never looked so rough and yet the glimpse of the tribal tattoo on his biceps still made my pulse quicken, and shifted my attention from the grossness of the room.

Such a shame his muscles were his only redeeming quality.

“Morning,” I said, closing the door behind me. “I’m here to mop your brow.”

McCoy glared at me, his blue eyes lacking their usual sparkle. “No thank you.”

“What’s up? You think I’d come in here while you’ve got concussion to taunt you?”

“Why else would you be here?”

“Richard wanted me to check on you. He’s coming by later but he got caught up so you’re stuck with me.”

“Next time tell him to send someone different. Hannibal Lecter has a better bedside manner than you.”

He looked murderous as I sat down on the edge of the bed. Something deep within me wanted to torment him a little bit, but no matter how much of an arse he was, I couldn’t be too cruel when I knew he was suffering.

“Come on, McCoy. I’m here now, you may as well talk to me. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got knocked out last night and wasn’t allowed to rest because Bryce woke me every three hours to make sure I was still alive. How do I look?”