Love Game

Chapter Twelve - Healing

It had been a week since my concussion and I was feeling a lot better. Sadly, Gabe would not let me be alone. Not that I hated him being with me every course of the day; it's just that I felt bad that he basically gave his life outside of hockey up to me. I go to the games, I go to the practices, only because he wants to make sure I'm okay; and if I feel lousy, he wants to be by my side.

He refuses to go out with the guys when they call up and ask if he wants to go have dinner with them, just so he can stay by my side, practically slaving over me. The treatment is fantastic, don't get me wrong. I just feel like he doesn't need to be with me all the time. I want him to be able to go out with the guys and have a good time. But he doesn't budge. He won't rest until I'm feeling a hundred percent, and right now I am about three-quarters there.

I hear the bedroom door slowly crack open. I look up from my book, seeing the tall Swede tip toe into my bedroom. He holds a tray in his hands and then frowns his eyebrows at me.

"You're not supposed to be reading," he mumbles, shaking his head as he places the tray in front of me, soon snatching Catching Fire out of my grasp.

"But Gabe, I'm fine now. That chapter was just starting to pull me in." I whine, pouting my lips as he puts the book on top of the tallest thing in my bedroom.

"You can have it back when you're a hundred percent. Right now, you are staying right here in bed, missy." Gabe instructs, soon sitting to my right on the edge of the bed.

I make a face at him as I reach to grab the bowl of soup, but again he stops me.

"Nope, I'm feeding you," he says, picking up the bowl in his hands. "Open up."

"Gabe, I'm not a baby. I can feed myself." I say sarcastically, only to see him move the spoon towards my lips.

"Choo, choo. Here comes the train!" Gabe says, pressing the spoon to my lips. Finally I give in and let him feed me, even though I was perfectly capable of doing it myself.

Soon enough the bowl of soup is gone. Gabe hands me my medication for my concussion and a bottle of blue Powerade. I sip it slowly, allowing the pills to be swallowed in a wave of liquid. I sigh as I twist the cap on to the bottle, placing it on the nightstand by my bed. I look up at Gabe and I force a smile at him, seeing him force one back.

"I want to watch some tv." I say, tilting my head to the side.

"It will hurt your head," he replies, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Not if I have the tv at low volume and the brightness down." I state, giving him the best puppy dog face I possibly could have. It must have worked, because soon he turned on he tv and adjusted everything for me.

He lays down beside me as he turns on NHL Network. I squint my eyes slightly, trying to adjust the the tv. I hadn't watched a movie, text, or done anything within the last week, and it's like I had forgotten how to do all of those things.

I feel him softly rub my head softly as he pulls me closer to his muscular body. I rest my head on his chest, just above his heart. I listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat as I watch the game highlights on the tv. The game they were showing now was San Jose versus Los Angeles. It was my brother Freddie against my best friend Karson. The battle of California had become one of my favorite NHL rivalries over the last couple of seasons, but nothing compared to the Boston and Montreal rivalry. Talk about intense.

I go back to think about when we played the Sharks. I was knocked unconscious by Raffi Torres, no doubt one of the dirtiest players in the entire league. There was no suspension given out to him, even though he left with his feet and elbowed me in the head. No big deal, right?