Chapter Thirteen
Daniel felt sleepy, and the worried looks he kept getting from Elena wrapped him in warmth. If she worried about him, that meant she cared about him. He kept his eyes closed and the seat partly reclined the whole way home. He’d tried to get Elena to take the front, but she’d insisted that his longer legs would be more comfortable there and that she’d take the back. When he’d suggested that he lie down in the back, she’d vetoed that idea, insisting that he had to be in a seat with a seatbelt. She’d grumbled about him reclining the seat, but had let it go when he brought it up some.
A smile played over his lips at her concern. What he really wanted was to get home and get to bed. He needed a shower first, and then he wanted to turn off all the bright lights that kept stabbing at his eyes, making the throbbing in his head worse, and sleep forever, with Elena snuggled against him. That sounded like his own personal version of heaven right now.
Daniel cracked his eyes open when he felt them bump over the familiar entrance to their apartment complex.
Coop slid into his assigned spot and killed the engine. “You gonna be able to make it upstairs on your own, or do you need help?”
Rubbing a hand over his head, Daniel thought about it. “I think I can manage. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
Coop flashed a grin and climbed out of the car. Elena’s door opened and closed before his fingers found the door handle and pulled it open. Even though they’d assured him at the hospital that he had no bleeding or swelling, his head felt like it floated somewhere about six inches above his body, and his brain felt too big for his skull. It made his movements as sluggish as his thoughts.
When he pushed the door open and put his feet on the asphalt, his cleats less steady on the smooth surface than they were on turf, Elena stood in front of him, her mouth a tight line, her brows drawn together forming a wrinkle in her forehead.
He reached a hand out to her. “Hey. I’m fine.”
That made her lips compress more, but she nodded, holding out a hand. He took it, because she offered. If it had been Coop he would’ve ignored him. But he couldn’t turn down Elena’s help. Each time she looked worried or stayed close to him, he smiled. He couldn’t help it, and didn’t want to. His smiles only made her look more worried, though, so he tried not to keep grinning like a wacko. No need to make her think he’d lost his mind when he got kicked in the head.
Damn. You’d think a football helmet would do a better job of protecting against that.
“The helmet only helps with the exterior trauma. Without the helmet you’d probably have cleat marks in your forehead or something. But it doesn’t stop concussions.”
He slowly turned his head to look down at Elena, who’d answered his thought. “Did I say that out loud?”
Her face lightened for a split second, a brief smile crossing her lips. “Yeah. You did.”
“How do you know so much about helmets and concussions?”
Her lips pressed together again, and she wrapped her arm through his, tugging him toward the stairs leading to his apartment. “After my dad’s accident this summer, I started reading a lot about traumatic brain injuries. I follow a few different organizations that provide support and research for TBI survivors and their families.”
He nodded, but regretted it as soon as he did so, the floaty feeling now combining with a sickening spinning sensation. He had to stop walking for a second and wait for that to pass before continuing. “Okay. That makes sense. But what does that have to do with concussions?”
A dry, humorless chuckle escaped her lips. “Sweetie, concussions are traumatic brain injuries. Milder than what happened to my dad, sure, but still TBIs. My brother likes to play baseball, and then you and I started spending time together, so I read about sports injuries. I can’t help it. It’s my own form of self-torture, indulging my psychologically masochistic streak by reading about all the ways the people I love can get their heads bashed in and permanently damaged.”
This time when he stopped, halfway up the stairs, it was to get her to look at him and clarify some points. He knew he wasn’t operating at full abilities, but it sounded like she might’ve said she loved him. “Wait, what?”
Tugging on his arm, she shook her head. “Let’s get inside. You need to rest. We’ll talk about all this later when you’re not dopey and concussed.”
He allowed her to get him moving again, but didn’t ignore the fact that she avoided meeting his eyes. At the very least he’d wait to push it until they got inside. Having the I love you conversation on the stairs to his apartment didn’t seem like the best place for it now that his slow brain had time to think about it.
Once inside, Coop closed the door behind them, turning the deadbolt and heading to his room. Elena stopped and looked at the door, which seemed strange to Daniel, but then she led him to his room, and he didn’t care about why she might stare at their front door. Pushing him down on the bed, she bent to untie his shoes. He might be out of it, but not enough that that didn’t seem wrong to him.
“S’okay. I can do it.” They were only tied normally, not double-knotted like they were when he played, since he’d had to take them off at the hospital. Toeing them off once they were untied, he stood, stripping off his jersey and dropping his hands to the lace-up fly on his pants.
“Um, I think I’ll just go.”
Daniel’s eyes focused on Elena, who was backing toward his bedroom door. “What? Why?”
Her eyes ran over his body before settling on his face again. “You’re hurt and you need to rest. You obviously don’t need any help from me. So, I’ll just have Hannah come get me so you can go to bed.”
“Stay.”
Her eyes dropped to his open fly, and tracked him as he pushed his football pants down, revealing the padded compression shorts he wore underneath. But her expression gave nothing away. “I really should go.”
“I need to take a shower. At least stay until I’m out. You can tuck me in.” He tried for a charming smile, but worried it came out goofier than he wanted.
Whatever the case, it seemed to work. The corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly, and she nodded. “Okay. Go take your shower. I’ll stay until you’re done.”
“You could come help. I might need someone to keep an eye on me. Traumatic brain injury and all.”
He regretted the words when he saw her wince. She shook her head. “They wouldn’t have let you leave the hospital if you were so bad off that you needed supervision in the shower. Go. I promise I’ll be here when you get back.”
The fact that she felt the need to promise worried him a little. He hadn’t expected her to want to leave, and had assumed her protests that she should go were more for show than from an actual desire to leave. But the promise made it sound like she really did want to leave. So it was with a frown on his face that he slid past her to get to the bathroom.
Once he was in the shower, his worries washed away along with the dried sweat and leftover grime from the game. The trainers had hustled him to the hospital once they’d determined that he had a concussion, not letting him change out of his uniform, barely letting him get his shoulder pads off in the locker room before he left. Plus, he’d heard enough stories of people getting nasty infections in the hospital that taking a shower after spending time there sounded like a great idea.
But he didn’t take too long, giving himself a quick scrub down from head to toe, regretting bending over as soon as he did it, and more when he stood back up. The floaty, dizzy feeling hadn’t gotten any better, and the altitude change only made it worse. He held onto the wall of the shower while he waited for the worst of the dizziness to pass, then turned off the water and toweled off quickly. His bed was calling. In high school when he’d gotten a concussion, they’d made him stay up all night. That had been awful. Thankfully, this doctor had said he should sleep as much as he wanted to and avoid stimulation for a few days to give himself time to feel better.
With the towel wrapped around his hips, he crossed the small bit of space that served as a hallway to get to his bedroom. Elena sat on his bed, hunched in on herself, staring at her phone.
When he walked in, she straightened, then stood. “How are you feeling?”
He tilted his hand back and forth in a so-so gesture, avoiding moving his head more than absolutely necessary. “Better with a shower. But more tired. I smell better at least.”
Her gaze lingered where his hand gripped the towel around his hips, but she looked sad this time. That was not a look he’d ever seen on her when he was all but naked. Unconcerned about her seeing him all the way naked, he let go of one end of the towel, draping it over his desk chair and rummaging in his drawer for a clean pair of shorts. Pulling them on provoked the room into spinning again, and he sat down heavily on the bed once the elastic hit his hips, his head in his hands.
Elena made a little sound of distress, her hand landing on his shoulder. “Come on. Get into bed. You need to rest.”
He started to nod without thinking about it and groaned when that made the dizziness worse again. Tipping onto his side on the bed, he lifted up enough that she could pull the blankets out from under him and cover him up. He opened his eyes to watch her smooth the blanket over his chest, her dark hair falling like a curtain and blocking his view of her face.
Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he stopped her before she could pull away. He tugged. “Climb in. Stay.”
She finally looked at him, the same sad look from earlier on her face, her lips compressed again. “You need to rest.”
“I know. I’ll rest better if you’re with me.”
A dry chuckle rasped in her throat, but it wasn’t her normal laugh. “Rest isn’t what we normally do in this bed.”
He tried his charming smile again. “True. But we could make an exception.”
She shook her head, pulling her wrist out of his grip. “I can’t, Daniel. I really can’t.”
“Why not?” His thoughts came out of his mouth as soon as they entered his head. “It’s the weekend. You don’t have to get up early for class. You don’t have your car. Coop’s either drinking and playing video games, and therefore can’t drive you, or he’s getting ready to go out drinking somewhere else.”
Her eyes left his, scanning over the blankets as though looking for the answer there. This wasn’t like her. She usually told him the truth. Stalling meant she was looking for a believable lie.
“Elena? What’s wrong?”
She shook her head again. “I can’t, Daniel.”
“Can’t what?”
Her hands covered her face for a moment, a gesture he recognized. She did it when she was forcing back her tears. Usually when she talked about her dad. What was going on? He sat up, reaching out to run his hand over her hip to her lower back, slipping under the sweatshirt she still wore. She’d taken off his jersey while he was in the shower.
“Elena? Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
Her hands came away from her eyes and covered her mouth. She shook her head again.
“Will you stop shaking your head at me? I’m tired, and I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. We’ll talk about this later.”
“Okay. Good. Now take off your sweatshirt and jeans, and get into bed.”
She backed away, out of his reach. “I can’t, Daniel. It’s not a good idea.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Why isn’t it a good idea for my girlfriend to crawl into bed with me? I’m not contagious. I just like holding you. It makes me feel better.”
A sound like she was in pain came from her, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “You’re killing me, Daniel. Please just let me go. We’ll talk later.”
“No. What? I don’t get what the problem is.”
She shook her head, backing toward the door, her hand fumbling behind her for the handle. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t—“ She looked all around, her lips clamped together like she was trying to hold back more words than the ones that had slipped out.
“Can’t what? Say it already.”
Whispering, her back pressed to the door, she finally spit it out. “I can’t be with someone who gets head injuries all the time. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”
“What? I don’t—“
But before he could finish, she’d slipped out the door, closing it behind her. By the time he kicked off the covers and got his bedroom door open, she was gone.
Coop stood in the living room, his head swiveling between the door and Daniel. “What was that?”
Running a hand over his face, Daniel started to shake his head, but stopped, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “I don’t know.”
Coop looked him over. “It sounded like she broke up with you.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t try to nod this time. He was learning.
Coop waited a beat, still eyeing him. “Sorry, man.”
“Yeah.” He stumbled back to bed, pulling the covers up to his shoulders. What the fuck had just happened? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. He’d call her later, after he’d slept. Maybe she’d sleep too and see she was overreacting. Because he was still pretty sure she’d said she loved him. And breaking up with him didn’t make any sense if that was true.