Page 51 of I Loved You First

They both waved back.

The whistle blew, and the kids started the game. And like any game with five-year-olds, they all abandoned their positions to run after the ball.

“Go get it, bud!” Cam yelled.

When Brady was the victor and ran with the ball, doing his best to dribble how they’d practiced, Cam clapped. “That’s the way, Brady!”

“Yes! Look at you!” Fiona yelled. “Go, Brady!”

And then Owen—Brady’s friend and teammate—stole the ball and started running in the wrong direction.

“The other way, Owen! Kick it the other way,” Cam and several other parents shouted.

The coach ran along the side, and eventually, Owen understood his mistake.

Everyone clapped when Owen ran the right way.

“That’s how you do it, Owen!” Cam hollered. “Nice recovery.”

Fiona laughed. “Peewee sports are always the best!”

Cam grinned. “The rule is there are no rules, even when there are supposed to be.”

Fiona laughed again.

The ref blew the whistle when the ball went out of bounds.

When one of the kids threw the ball back in play, twenty soon-to-be kindergarteners swarmed in, and Brady disappeared into the pack of red and blue jerseys.

Moments later, Brady fell forward on his hands, letting out a cry that made Cam cringe. Because he knew that sound—the real deal he’d only heard a couple of times when something was seriously wrong.

Immediately, Cam rushed out of his chair when Brady didn’t get up, jogging toward the center of the field, where he met the coach who had just beat him there.

Brady looked up as tears streamed down his sweaty cheeks while he sat on his knees. “My arm hurts.”

Cam crouched next to him, slightly relieved that nothing was obviously broken. “Where, bud?”

“My wrist.” He struggled to hold it up as he sniffled and started to cry again. “It hurts a lot.”

Cam stopped Brady’s movements. “You don’t have to move it.” He looked at the coach. “We’re going to get this checked out.”

She nodded. “That’s a good idea. Feel better, Brady.”

He sniffled. “Okay.”

Cam focused his attention on Brady. “Let’s put your arm against your chest like this,” he said, carefully moving it, clenching his jaw when Brady sucked in a sharp breath.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, scooping up Brady and nodding his head to everyone as they started to clap as they walked off the field.

Fiona waited on the painted line as her brow furrowed beneath her aviators. “What’s going on, guys?”

Brady sucked in several shaky breaths. “My arm hurts a lot.”

She wiped the tears off his cheeks. “That’s no good.”

Brady shook his head.

Cam looked at Brady’s wrist, noting that it was starting to swell. “I’m pretty sure urgent care is closed today. I’m going to take him up to the hospital to get this checked out.”