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*mature content*
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Sloane Casey's life takes an unexpected turn when she becomes the new physical therapy assistant for the college ice hockey team. Needing the credits for her physiology studies, she is prepared to handle bruises and sp...
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Sloane
Fuck me.
I groan as the harsh sunlight assaults my closed eyelids, dragging me from the depths of my unconsciousness. My head throbs, and I turn away from the light. I roll to my other side, attempting to shove a pillow on my head, but I am met with a hard surface. I blink a few times, confused. Slowly, the events of last night trickle back into my mind. My minor tumble and, of course, Malachi Dixon, the fucking human brick wall . Perfect.
I open my eyes, squinting slightly.
"Harper Chen!" I croak, my voice rough from sleep. "Why the hell am I on the floor?"
Harper, my ever-observant and sarcastic roommate, leans over the edge of her bed with a smirk. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. How's your head? Still living in concussion land?"
I roll my eyes, regretting the movement immediately as pain spikes through my skull. "Yeah, I feel like someone's tap-dancing on my brain. Did I really just crash on the floor?"
Harper shrugs nonchalantly. "Well, you did say you were going to lie down, and then you just kind of... stopped? I figured you needed the rest. Plus, I wasn't about to drag your ass to bed at 4.30 in the afternoon."
I huff and push myself up into a sitting position, blinking away the lingering dizziness. "Thanks for the help, Harp. Such a nice friend you are."
She chuckles, tossing me a bottle of water and some painkillers. I try to catch them, but my reflexes apparently also broke when I fell over, and the bottle landed on my foot. I winced.
"Hey, you survived, didn't you? Besides, you're tough. A little bump on the head won't kill you."
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, popping the cap off the bottle and swallowing the pills with a grimace. "It's Friday, right? Please tell me I only have my 10 AM class today."
Harper nods, flipping through a textbook. "Yep, just Business and Economics. And considering you only look half-dead, you might actually make it."
"Great," I say, dragging myself to my feet and wobbling slightly before finding my balance. "At least I don't have to deal with the rink until later."
"You're still working there?" Harper asks, raising an eyebrow. "After last night's collision, I thought you'd swear off ice forever."
"Yeah, well, I need the credits for my physiology coursework project," I reply, rubbing my temples. "Besides, I can handle a bunch of sweaty hockey players. They're not exactly brain surgeons."
Harper laughs. "True, true. Well, good luck with that. And with your class. Try not to pass out during the lecture, okay?"
I shoot her a sarcastic smile. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
