I used to tell her that she was my queen since her name is Victoria, hence the nickname Queenie. Lame, I know. It was something I said when I was half-lit and trying to get into her pants. She hates it, always has, but I think she secretly likes it. With a last name like Prince, it seemed fitting. She used to call me her Prince Charming, joking around, and that was always my comeback. The name ended up sticking.
She’s the only girl I’ve cared for since I stepped foot on this campus three years ago. At one time, I was madly in love with her. But I had to move on.
I watch as Dr. Holland evaluates Tori. He shines a light in her eyes, tells her to follow his finger, and performs all the usual tests to check cognitive function.
“I don’t see any causes for concern, but you will need to get some rest. The only way to give your brain the time you need to recover is to spend the rest of the weekend off your feet and in bed. Do you have anyone who can take care of you? I’d feel better if someone were with you just in case.”
She shakes her head. “No, my roommate is spending the weekend with her boyfriend, and my family lives in Pittsburgh.”
“I can stay with her,” I say.
Tori shoots daggers in my direction. Her lip curls up at me in revulsion. “No, I don’t think so, Bash. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“You heard what Doc said,” I challenge, moving closer to command her attention. “Doctor’s orders.”
She pretends as though I don’t exist and turns her head toward the TV.
“Even though you hate me, you will need me to stay with you.” I stand in front of her and wait for her to look up at me. “I’ve been through this more times than I can count. Trust me.”
“I don’t trust you,” she snaps back.
“I would consider Bash’s offer,” Dr. Holland adds. “If you start to display any of the more serious symptoms of a concussion, you will need someone to take you to the hospital.”
Tori slides her hand behind her head, staring up at the ceiling as if it holds the answer to her dilemma. “I guess Bash can hang out for a while, as long as he doesn’t annoy me too much.”
; “So, it’s settled,” Dr. Holland says, placing his medical instruments back into his bag. “Take care of yourself Victoria. Make sure you drink plenty of fluids and get some rest. Don’t drink or do any strenuous activities. I’d prefer if you stay inside for the next two days, if possible.”
“That won’t be an issue,” she says, propping herself up on the arm of the couch as she tucks her feet under her.
Dr. Holland looks at me as he stands, and I follow suit. “Bash, call me if anything changes with Victoria.”
When I open the door for Doc, he lingers in the entryway, hesitating. He lowers his voice to an almost whisper. “Make sure she follows my instructions. She seems a bit headstrong, and people like that make the worst patients. You know better than anyone that not following doctor’s orders can lead to complications.”
I nod. “Yes, I do. That’s why I plan to sit by Tori’s side until she’s feeling better, even if she doesn’t want me here.”
“Good.” He flashes a quick smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Like I said, call me if anything changes. As long as Victoria gets some rest, I think she will be just fine by the start of class on Monday.”
I slap a hand on his back. “Thanks again, Doc. I’ll take good care of her.”
He nods without another word and disappears into the crowded hallway. The weekends on campus are always insane, with some people still up from the night before and drunk out of their skulls. I’m one of them when it’s not football season. But I have to be in the zone, and that means keeping my partying to a minimum.
Once upon a time, my dad was a professional football player. He played quarterback for the Redskins back in the day, long before he blew out his knee. He was at the end of his career when it happened, but he still crawls up my ass about conditioning and being in game-ready shape. Now, he’s a sports announcer for ESPN and is never home. But he always finds the time to call and tell me what I need to do better or how I can improve my game.
So, the most partying I can do on the weekends is drinking a few beers, at best. I take football serious. For as long as I can remember, my entire life has revolved around practice schedules, workouts, and games. My dad had molded me, so that he could turn me into the best running back in the league.
If everything goes as planned, I should have a shot at the NFL. That’s why I have no room for error or distractions. Except I have one perched on the sofa, making my dick twitch. The skin-tight top Tori has on from last night clings to her petite, yet curvy frame.
One of the things I always like most about Tori is her figure and her full, luscious tits. All I can think about is shoving my face between them as I take my place on the couch across from her. Hanging out with Tori for the next ten minutes will be hard with the semi growing in my pants, let alone another day or two, assuming she doesn’t kick me out before then.
“I’m hungry.” She rubs her stomach with a sly grin. “If you’re going to be my caretaker, the least you can do is get me something to eat.”
I shake my head, laughing. “You’re impossible, Queenie.”
“I’m serious. As your first order of business as my nurse, you need to feed me.”
“Cooking is not my thing. How about we go to the SAC instead? Are you feeling up to it?”