Page 188 of Make Me Mean It

Then I kiss him.

It’s barely even a kiss. Just the soft press of my mouth against his because I’m terrified of hurting him, but Theo’s breath catches against my lips.

That tiny reaction goes straight through me.

His mouth moves weakly against mine.

“I’m imagining this, right?” he breathes into the kiss, words slightly blurred together. “Brain injury?”

A laugh catches behind the tears still clogging my throat.

“I wish you were,” Marcus grunts somewhere above us.

I don’t even look at him.

For once in my fucking life, I don’t care what Marcus thinks.

I don’t care who sees.

I don’t care what this makes me or what happens after this or how many people in this entire fucking stadium are watching me kiss Theo Knox on the ice.

My mouth brushes his again.

“I’m here,” I murmur against him, pressing another kiss to his lips. Then another, because his eyes keep trying to close and panic starts crawling straight back up my throat. “Just stay awake, yeah?”

His kisses are getting sluggish.

Too sluggish.

“Theo.”

“Mhm.” His lips barely move against mine. “Everyone will see.”

I pull back.

His eyes are open, but there’s a glaze over them now, his gaze struggling to settle properly on my face, and my stomach fucking drops.

“I don’t care.” I shake my head hard, thumb sweeping over his cheek. “God, Theo, I don’t care.”

Hands suddenly reach between us.

One of the medics shoulders me aside, forcing me away from him, and every instinct in me screams to shove him straight back. I move forward again before Marcus’s hand clamps hard around my shoulder.

“Con.”

I stop.

Barely.

They move around Theo quickly, voices overlapping as they get the stretcher beneath him, and I stand there uselessly, my heart pounding so hard it makes me feel sick.

Then Theo’s eyes widen.

“Con?”

There’s panic in it.

Actual fucking panic.