On Thursday, I mentioned the rumors to Abby while we ate lunch. "People are talking." I picked at my salad as I kept my eyes on her face.
Abby looked up from her soup with a flash of concern on her face. "About us? What are they saying?"
"The usual.” I shrugged. “That we're suddenly so friendly and take a lot of lunch breaks at the same time. I think I heard someone say I smile too much when you're around."
A small grin played at the corners of her mouth. "Do you?"
"Apparently." I risked reaching for her hand under the table. "Does it bother you if people know? We can be more careful."
Her thumb absently stroked mine as she thought about it. "Nah. Maybe we should lean into it. Throw them off the scent."
That wasn’t what I expected her to say. "What do you have in mind?"
"We can tell everyone we'rejustfriends." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Really emphasize the 'just’ part and make it so obvious we're lying that everyone will think we're telling the truth because no one would be that bad at hiding a relationship."
I laughed, shaking my head at her convoluted logic. "That's either brilliant or completely insane."
"Probably both." She squeezed my hand before releasing it. "I’m sure Corinne will say something at the game tomorrow. We’ll test it out."
"Perfect." I took a bite and nodded. "I'll be just friendly enough to make everyone suspicious, but not friendly enough to confirm anything."
She was almost giddy about this silly plan. "And I'll make a big show of sitting next to Derek instead of you to really confuse them."
"You most certainly will not!" I growled, only half-joking. Okay, not joking at all. "I draw the line at watching you flirt with that meathead, even as a cover."
She laughed and almost reached for me but caught herself before making contact. "Ooh, is Daddy jealous? That's so sweet."
"I’m not jealous." I huffed out an annoyed breath but kept my voice low. "Possessive. There's a difference."
Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lower lip in that way that drove me crazy. "You can demonstrate the difference later." Her breathy tone made my dick hard and my unwarranted annoyance at Derek even stronger.
Once Friday night arrived, we put our ridiculous plan into motion and drove to the field separately.
The game before us had started late and was in overtime, so we pulled out some balls on the other side of the fence and started tossing balls around. Abby was fielding ground balls with Corrine and I was lobbing fly balls to Marty when I heard someone yell, “Heads up!”
Time seemed to slow as I looked up and watched a white blur arc straight toward Abby. Corrine saw it and yelled for her to duck, but it was too late and the ball struck her shoulder with a sickening thud.
The impact knocked her on her ass with her hand glued to her shoulder and her precious face contorted in pain.
I don't remember moving, but one moment I was by the fence and the next, I was dropping to my knees beside her. "Abby? Baby, are you okay?" My hands hovered over her, afraid to touch an injury and make it worse. "Where does it hurt? Can you move your arm, sweetheart?"
Her face was pale and tears streamed down her cheeks. "My shoulder." Her voice was tight, and I could tell she was trying so hard to be strong. "It's dislocated, maybe…" She took a deep breath and then tried to sit up but immediately crumpled into my lap.
"Don't move, baby." I spoke to her softly but firmly in the voice I reserved for our most private moments. “A medic is coming.” I cradled her against my chest.
Her face burrowed into my shirt, breathing me in. She tilted her head up just enough to whisper in my ear, "It hurts, Daddy."
I was vaguely aware of a crowd forming around us, but my entire focus was on Abby and the small whimpers she tried to suppress.
A medic arrived and checked her out. Luckily, her shoulder wasn’t dislocated, and after a few minutes, the shock of the impact wore off and she was sitting up on her own and moving her arm around.
"I'm really okay." She glanced up and realized the whole team was watching her. "Sorry for the dramatics. It just stunned me. I can still play."
"Absolutely not." My tone brooked no argument. "We're getting some ice and then I'm taking you home."
"Royce." Her eyes darted to our colleagues as if I gave a fuck about them. "People are staring."
"I don't care if the entire stadium is staring." I lifted her to her feet and kept my arm firmly around her waist. "You're hurt, and I'm taking care of you. End of discussion."
