Anatomy of a Player (Taking Shots #2) by Cindi Madsen

Author:Cindi Madsen [Madsen, Cindi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled, Embrace, NA, bet, opposites attract, new adult, hockey, romantic comedy, friends to lovers, bad boy, nerd, playboy, tattoos, Cindi Madsen, Romance, college
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hudson

Nothing was worse than not being able to be there for your team, which was why I wasn’t even entertaining the idea of telling Coach I’d fucked up my ankle. I’d put on a good show at practice last night, jumping right back up after Ox and I had collided, ignoring the fact that every movement brought on a wave of nausea.

This morning my left ankle was an impressive shade of purple, and so swollen that it’d taken a lot of cramming and swearing to get my foot into my shoe.

As I walked into McGuinn Hall, I gritted my teeth against the sharp pain that shot up my leg with every step. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and the bacon and Eggo Waffles I’d scarfed for breakfast threatened to make a reappearance. I just had to make it through my classes and then I’d be on a plane to Colorado so we could check into a hotel and get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow’s game. That’d give my ankle the rest it needed, and I was sure that by game time it’d be fine.

I settled into a desk in my most-hated class and sighed in relief. I dug out a few more ibuprofen and swallowed them dry. The taste lingered and I wished I’d risked the extra steps to the drinking fountain down the hall, throbbing ankle or not.

Professor Hummel began her lecture, and I forced myself to jot down what she said, even though it mostly sounded like a foreign language. Here I’d thought this class was going to end up benching me—as did McCaffrey, who’d been asking for a regular report and hounding me to get more tutoring help so that didn’t happen—but at least that gave me till December, when grades came out.

Except I wasn’t going to let it come to that, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let a minor ankle injury take me down.

If I hadn’t been favoring my right leg, this never would’ve happened. My old MCL injury had been flaring up recently, so I’d been trying to keep my weight off my right knee as much as possible in practice. Because—get this—I didn’t want to be injured before our game against Denver. Rumor had it they’d recruited some major players. They were also 4 and 0, just like we were. I wanted to make sure that at the end of the game, they were the one to report a loss.

I readjusted my leg and rested my foot on the bottom rung of the chair in front of me so that my ankle would be elevated. The guy in front of me turned, looking like he was ready to say something.

I stared right back, conveying Go ahead. Make my day, without actually having to say it, and he quickly spun around. I was so not in the mood for this class. Not that I usually was, but I’d been off all week. I could pinpoint the exact moment everything had gone to hell, too.

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