Page 17 of Colliding with Ten

She gave me another half-smile, and I was happy to keep saying words to bring her out of her shell. I sat on the stool beside her. Her cheer makeup had smudged, red lipstick fading to pink, mascara streaking across her face from sweat and tears. Despite that, she was still beautiful, her highlighted curly hair against her light brown skin.

“Why?” she asked.

“The football locker room isn’t the friendliest place for women. We can be juvenile.” I swung back and forth on the stool. “But I still want to know what he meant by ‘I’ve heard that before’,” I said, mimicking AJ’s tone.

Ayla chuckled. “AJ just can’t let go of certain events in high school.”

“What happened in high school?”

“His teammates got into a little squabble. Boys will be boys.”

“His teammates fought over you?”

“No, they weren’t fighting over me. I just happened to be in the way.”

Somehow, I knew Ayla was at the center. But with her brushing it off, I wasn’t getting any further tonight.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

She waved me off. “It’s not like you did it on purpose.”

“No, of course not,” I said, eyeing her leg in the brace. “Are you really okay?”

She nodded, pressing the ice tighter against her knee. “Physically? Mostly. My ego, though . . . not so great.”

She followed my gaze down to her leg. “They said it’s a small tear to the MCL and a sprain to the ACL. I don’t need surgery, and I should be back up in eight weeks.”

She gave me a tense smile, and I wondered what she wasn’t saying or showing. From my experience, I knew that news wasn’t easy to hear.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

Her gaze lifted, surprise flashing in her eyes. “You were scared?”

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’ve run out of bounds a hundred times. Never hit anyone like that. When I saw you fall . . .” I exhaled, jaw tightening. “It didn’t feel good. But I was trying to save the play. I saw the gap, and, well, you know the rest.”

“I felt the rest.” She winced as she adjusted the pack.

I wheeled the stool closer and, before she could protest, helped her adjust the ice pack and held it. The air stood still as our eyes met.

“Can I see?”

“You won’t see much with the compression wrapping and the brace.”

“Humor me.”

She moved her hand, and I lifted the ice pack. My fingers touched the skin above the brace, and she flinched.

“Did that hurt?”

She shook her head. “No, just a temperature shock.”

Moving my hand more cautiously, I pressed along the joint line like I’d seen trainers do on my own knee a hundred times. The swelling was significant, and it was hot to the touch. I’d lived through this and knew what was going on inside that knee, and it wasn’t good.

“Tell me where it hurts the most,” I murmured. “I need to know.”

She quirked her brow, but didn’t question it. With trembling fingers, she laid her hands over mine and guided my hand to the spot over the compression sleeve. My thumb circled the tender area on the inside of her knee. Her body went rigid as she sucked in a quick breath. Neither of us moved.

“Sorry,” I said, surprised by her reaction. “Didn’t mean to make it worse.”