Roughing

I drop to the floor next to her and slip my fingers between hers. “Are you okay?”

She doesn’t respond, even though I know she’s awake and just ignoring me. I’m so confused by the recent turn of events. Did I do something to upset her? Nothing comes to mind. Everything was perfect before I left the room.

Trying once more to get her to talk to me, I bring her hand up to my lips and plant a kiss on her skin. She doesn’t budge an inch. It’s as if she’s dead to the world. Only a few minutes ago, she was wide awake and grinding against my mouth, as she came for me.

“Tori, C'mon, babe.” I hover over her, my breath brushing against her cheek. “I need to know you’re okay. Open your eyes for me.”

She stirs a bit, a soft moan escaping her lips. But it doesn’t sound like one of pleasure—more like pain. “Bash,” she says, her voice soft. “I think you need to call the doctor for me.”

I scoot closer to the bed and tighten my grip on her hand while stroking her face with the other. “What happened after I left the room?”

“It hurts,” she chokes out, struggling with the words.

“What hurts? Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”

“My head,” she slurs, opening one eye for a second before she closes them once more.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, even though I know she can hear me.

And here I thought she was doing better. Or at least that’s the impression I got. If anyone should know better, it’s me. A concussion can sneak up on you when you least expect. Everything will appear to be okay, and then the next minute, you’re hanging over the toilet, puking your guts out.

Unhooking my fingers from hers, I come to a standing. Naked and staring down at my girl, I have no idea what to do to take away her pain. I have been through this before. Head traumas are as much a part of the sport as parties and women. I can take the pain. I can take a hit no problem. But Tori isn’t built for this. She’s fragile, always has been.

I bend down to kiss her forehead and stroke her cheek with my hand. “I’ll be right back, babe. I’m going to call Doc real quick.”

In a hurry, I dart into the living room and grab my phone from the pocket of my jeans. Doc answers on the second ring and promises to come right away. I’m worried about Tori. I know the ball hit her hard enough to knock her on her ass, but I had no idea it could do that much damage. I guess I’m used to playing rough.

After I hang up with Doc, I run back into the bedroom to find Tori holding one hand over her mouth, the other over her stomach. She sits up, or at least attempts it before she sinks back into the mattress with a loud groan.

I rush over to her side and clamp my hand around her tiny biceps.

“I’m gonna be sick,” she mutters, her words almost inaudible.

Helping her up from the bed, I maintain a firm grip on her arm. At first, she tries to walk, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance. So, I pick her up and take her into the bathroom. She’s still naked, her face and chest now covered in sweat. I don’t even have time to remove a washcloth from the linen closet to place on her forehead before she drops to her knees on the cold tile floor. Under different circumstances, her position would excite me. But not tonight.

Scooting closer to the toilet, she glances up at me for a second. With beads of sweat dotting her brows and the color draining from her face, I have no doubt she’s in for a long night.

It’s been a while since I had a night like the one Tori is about to experience as if the night before wasn’t bad enough for her. Hunched over in pain, she runs a shaky hand along the toilet seat, feeling the porcelain as she opens the lid.

I stand behind her and gather her hair in my hands, making sure to keep it off her face. As if on cue, she empties the contents of her stomach, all while I stroke her hair and tell her things will be okay, keeping my fingers crossed that they will be.

If someone had told me that my weekend with Tori back in my life would go this bad, I would’ve thought they were full of shit. It was a risk to ask Clay and Jessica to help me out with Tori, full well knowing she would turn me down. But, by some miracle, I’m still here, in her apartment and helping her nurse a wicked concussion. This was unexpected.

What were the chances that our first meaningful encounter where she didn’t run away would start with Tori getting hit in the face with a football going over fifty miles per hour? And it’s all because of Clay. He over threw the ball. I couldn’t have caught it even if I had superpowers. It was a bad play and an even worse pass.

I guess to some extent Clay helped me get Tori back. But I didn’t want it to be under duress or whatever you would call these circumstances. I fear that Tori is open to having me back in her life again just for the weekend, only because she needs me here. I hope that’s not the case.

At least ten minutes of puking and dry heaving continue before Tori pulls a strip of toilet paper from the roll and wipes her mouth. She sits on the floor, cupping her head in her hands. I can tell she’s embarrassed as if having me see her so vulnerable is killing her more than the concussion. I have seen her at her absolute worst. This is not it.

I doubt she even remembers the time I went to visit her in the psychiatric hospital. She was so doped up on drugs and whatever they were feeding her that she looked and sounded nothing like herself. It’d taken a long time to see the same glimmer in her eye I once saw from her. That’s also why Jessica was so hesitant to help me out.

She wasn’t convinced that I was good enough for Tori. I’m not even sure that I am good enough for her, so I can’t say that I blame her friend for being concerned. She has seen enough of what goes on at my house to have some doubt about me being a different person. But I want to be the man Tori needs. Or at least I will try to be what she needs. So far, she’s allowed me to show her that I have changed.

I dampen a washcloth and drop next to her on one knee to wipe the sweat from her face. She looks awful, tired and pale and so unlike herself.

“I can’t believe you have to see me like this,” she mutters, as she watches me dab her cheek with the cloth.

Her words stop me for a second. I sit behind her on the tile and wrap my arms around her stomach, pulling her against my chest. It feels so good to be with Tori again and to have her back in my life. I missed her so much. For years, I have tried to drown the pain of losing her with football, girls, and parties, but Tori was always the one thing I was missing. She’s the missing piece to my puzzle.