Allyson Reed finally has the life she wants in Massachusetts, but whenever Daxson Winters, the newest NFL superstar and love of her life suffers a gruesome injury, a dark piece of their past resurfaces threatening to destroy everything they've built...
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Daxson
If I had the choice, whoever invented those fucking contraptions would be killed on sight. The crutches got in the way when I tried to get out of the car, making it way more difficult than it should've been. I also hated the annoying clinking sound they made against the driveway, and how they rubbed my armpits raw. The idiot who decided to put cushioning at the top of the crutches could've at least made it comfortable. Soft too, maybe? But it wasn't. No matter how I fucking adjusted them it was like being poked with a cattle prod. My eyes wandered up the long side-walk leading to the front door of our house and a heavy sigh escaped my lips.
"Dax, do you need help?" Allyson's warm voice questioned as she came to my side after retrieving our bags from the car.
My jaw locked in response to her question. I knew she was asking the question because she cared, but it didn't make it any less irritating. Allyson had always asked a lot of questions, that was just part of who she was as a person, but since my injury I just had less patience to deal with the constant barrage. Every time she asked a question, it took all my will power to keep from responding with comment that came off too snarky.
"I know I'm hurt, but I'm not a baby," I grumbled under my breath without even looking at her as I started my long trek to the front door.
"No need to be rude," she called from behind me.
I rolled my eyes because I could've said something way more rude. She didn't even know that side of me.
With each hobbled step on the crutches, my knee started to throb more and more. Seriously, it was starting to hurt like a bitch. This could've been avoided if they'd given me more pain killers before discharging me from the hospital, but instead, they sent me on my way with a prescription that Allyson had filled at the pharmacy. It was obvious she had no idea what I was going through because she failed to give me anything to help with the pain. It didn't make sense to me, and maybe that contributed to some of my irritation with her. If she didn't give it to me soon, I'd have to find it on my own.
My attention shifted to keeping my right foot off the ground. Dr. Naguski told me to keep as much weight off my injured leg as I could. He had droned on and on about how he wanted it to fully heal before I started physical therapy next week. Honestly though, I took everything he said with a grain of salt because he also told me I'd never be able to play football again, but that wasn't going to happen. I was going to do whatever it took to get healthy enough to get back on the field. I wasn't giving up on my promise to my father. Everyone would see my name in the Hall of Fame one day. No matter what it took.
"You could've just said no," Allyson mumbled underneath her breath as she carried our bags up the stairs.
I watched her with a twinge of jealous surfacing inside me. She made everything look so effortless now that I was injured. A piece of wondered if that was how she felt when I was healthy and she was the clumsy one in the relationship. My eyes lingered on her as she unlocked the front door to the house. Her dark hair was folded into a messy bun on top of her head with little curly wisps hanging free and blowing in the breeze. The fitted t-shirt cling to her small frame, making her look a little thinner than normal. I hoped it was because she'd been eating less while we were in the hospital, but the thought of her purging again crossed my mind.
