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I’m surprised no one else on the medical team has picked up on it. The way his mouth twitches, how he doesn’t quite fully extend his arm back when he’s throwing. The difference is minuscule, but it’s there.
Maybe I’ve spent too much time staring at him over the years and that’s why I’m picking up on it, I don’t know. But the man is a stubborn ass. There’s a good chance this problem isn’t going to just magically go away if he ignores it. If we identify the problem and treat it, he has a much better chance at a positive outcome and playing this season.
Knowing that I’m right about his shoulder, I’m pissed when I find Lee working out on a Friday night after a week full of conditioning and practices.
We leave for Denver tomorrow ahead of Sunday’s game, so I’m at the training facility to get a workout in because I’ll be tied up all weekend. It’s becoming harder and harder to find the time to work out these days.
“Wasn’t expecting to find you here.” I head over to one of the treadmills and turn it on.
He lets the dumbbells fall to the floor with a bang.
“Why? It’s happened before.” He’s breathing heavily.
I glance at the weights and see that he’s lifting about twenty pounds more than he should.
“Just because of your… you know.” I point at my right shoulder.
He looks around. There’s no one else here except for Paul the security guard. “Jesus, are you still on that? I told you, I’m fine.”
“I heard what you said. I just don’t believe you.” I increase the speed on the treadmill so that I’m doing a relaxed jog, drowning out his lies.
He leaves the weight area and stomps over to the treadmill. “Would you give it a break already? Have you considered the fact that you might be wrong?”
I shrug. “For about a second. But I know I’m not.”
He stabs the stop button on my treadmill, and it slowly comes to a stop.
“Hey!” I shift to face him. With me on the treadmill and him on the ground, we’re almost the same height.
“I need to get some extra time in. We lost our second game, and I don’t like losing. I really don’t like losing on a year when my contract is coming up.”
I shake my head. He can’t really be this shortsighted. “Lee, you need to take this seriously. Just tell me what’s going on and maybe—”
“I told you. If there’s something you need to know, I’ll tell you.”
“Like you told me about the bet?” I don’t know why I’m attacking him about that again. The words just slipped out from sheer anger that he’s lying right to my face. It’s not omission this time. He’s straight up lying to me.
He throws up his hands. “Jesus, this again? I thought we moved past that.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I give up. I can’t fucking do anything right in your eyes.” He steps up onto my treadmill so he’s once again towering over me. I don’t know if it’s an intimidation tactic or what, but I refuse to let it work if that’s what he’s angling for.
“I said I’m sorry. It just doesn’t make sense to me why you’re hiding an injury.”
He steps closer to me. “It’s not an injury, it’s just a little discomfort. Nothing I can’t handle.”
I rise on my tiptoes and stand as straight as I can. “You stubborn fool. You know as well as I do that ignoring a small injury is the first step to making it a big injury. It could turn into something that needs surgery.” My hands are clenched in fists at my sides.
Our chests are millimeters from touching and my breasts heave with my heavy breaths.
“It’s not something you need to concern yourself with,” he grinds out between gritted teeth.
“I think it is.”
Electricity crackles in the small space between us.
“You’re so frustrating sometimes!” He pushes a hand through his sweaty hair.
