Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
***
I’d had an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach all morning, since my conversation with Presley in the kitchen. So after I went to the eye doctor and worked out with my trainer, I decided to stop up at Alex’s peewee football practice. Presley was sitting in the bleachers with a bunch of women I’d never met.
“Oh my God,” one said. “You’re Levi Miller—the quarterback.”
I offered my standard-issue smile and nodded. “I am. Good to meet you.”
“Will you be here for long? My son is your biggest fan. Practice will be over in about twenty minutes, and he would absolutely die if he knew you were here and he didn’t get to meet you.”
I exchanged glances with Presley. “Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen. Sure, I’m gonna watch practice for a while anyway. Which one is your son?”
“He’s a running back. Number forty-four.”
“I’ll keep my eye on him and see if I can give him any pointers when practice ends.” I looked at Presley and nodded toward the team. “I’m going to walk down to the other end of the field where the kids are to get a closer look.”
She stood. “I’ll come.”
I heard all of the women whispering as we walked from the bleachers. One said something about my ass.
I shook my head. “And they say men are bad.”
Presley smiled. “Can you really crack a walnut with your ass cheeks? I’d like to see it, if you can.”
I chuckled. “Is that what she just said?”
“It is, indeed.”
“Well, I’ve never tried. But I’m game to give it a shot if you’re into that sort of thing.”
We both laughed, and the tension I’d felt since the kitchen this morning waned for the first time. But that fleeting moment of calm was abruptly interrupted by a harrowing scream. Alex’s scream. When you play a sport where more than half the guys are usually operating with some sort of an injury, you get to be an expert at reading the level of pain from only a yelp. And this one…was not good. The opening to get onto the field was still another twenty yards away, so I hopped the fence and ran to where Alex was lying on the ground. Two coaches hovered over him.
“My ankle. My ankle.” He rolled to his side.
I knelt down. “Don’t try to move it, buddy.”
“Uncle Levi, it hurts.”
One of the coaches looked up at me. “Holy shit. You’re Levi Miller.”
I ignored him. “Tell me what the pain feels like, Alex.”
“It’s sharp—and shooting up my leg.”
His little ankle was also starting to bruise and swell. Not a good sign.
Presley made her way over. “Are you okay?”
“I think we should run him to the hospital to be on the safe side.”
She nodded. “Okay. Yeah, let’s do that.”
One of the coaches stood and thumbed toward the parking lot. “You want me to grab the wheelchair? I keep one in the back of the van, just in case.”
I scooped Alex from the grass, careful not to touch his ankle. “No need. I got it.”
My truck had more legroom than Presley’s little car, so we drove to the emergency room in it and left hers at the field. She bit her nail as we got on the highway.
“I forgot how nerve-wracking having someone you love play football could be.”
“He’s going to be fine.”
She blew out a deep breath and nodded.
Once we arrived at the hospital, they took Alex into triage with Presley, and I paced in the waiting room. She came out five minutes later.
“They aren’t too busy, so they took him right in the back to have him examined,” she said. “Only one person is allowed in at a time, so I wanted to let you know. I’ll come out when I know something.”
I nodded and kissed her forehead. “Okay. Good luck.”
An hour or so later, I was fiddling with my phone, trying to keep myself occupied, when I heard a familiar voice.
“I’m looking for Alex Miller.”
“And you are?”
“His father.”
“He’s in the back with his mother. Give me a minute, and I’ll go see if I can get you an update. There’s only one person allowed with each patient.”
“Okay, thank you.”
My brother walked to the waiting area where I was seated. He stopped short when he saw me. His forehead wrinkled. “What are you doing here?”
“I was passing by the school on my way home from the eye doctor and saw the boys practicing, so I stopped to check it out.”
“You were there when it happened?”
“Yeah. It sounded like it could be a break.”
My brother ran a hand through his hair. “Shit.”
“How did you know he was here?”
“Presley called me.”
“Oh.”
I must’ve frowned, because my brother’s eyes roamed my face, and he squinted. “Is that a problem? Should I not be here when my kid is hurt?”
I shook my head. “No…I just meant, I wasn’t even thinking. I should have called you. That’s all.”