Behind The Jersey

Luca

I look around to find the secret scout, and when my eyes land on him, I quickly look away.

I remember seeing this guy before, and what frustrates me is that Coach Reynolds set me up. I thought he was loyal to me, but now I don’t trust anyone.

When Emma informed me about it, my mind went blank for a brief moment. I got back to my senses, or I could say that I lost my mind until I ended up getting injured

The pain is there, but it isn’t unbearable. The way Emma runs up to me and calls for a medic unsettles me. There’s an unexplainable feeling I can’t shake.

I know she isn’t pretending right now. You cannot fake emotions like that. Either way, it works in our favor because people tend to see the loving bond between us.

My jersey is soaked with blood, and I am still not sure how it happened. It’s not like the rink has any kind of sharp edges that could cause a scratch to any of the players.

My eyes accidentally land on a random dude from the opposite team, and he is grinning, clearly enjoying the show. He is one of Carl’s friends, and I quickly realize that this was deliberate.

However, I have no intention of confronting him. Not yet… not until I recover. Then I’ll deal with him later.

Emma looks up at me, with pure concern flashing in her eyes. While I am worried that she might slip, she continues shouting for help.

A few moments later, the medics rush toward me, and Emma doesn’t leave my side at all. I sit in the ambulance and groan as the pain starts to bother me.

Soon, we arrive at the hospital, and they take me inside while Emma waits outside.

“Luca, I am here!” she assures me before the doctors begin treating my wound.

Ten minutes later, Emma joins me. Looking at me, she asks, “Are you okay?” Her hand rests on my arm, and the way she slowly squeezes it soothes me.

Somehow, her presence calms me down. I no longer think about the incident, the scout member spying on me, or anything else. It’s just Emma and me.

Before I can get lost in my thoughts, the doctor starts talking to her. He gives me a few antibiotics along with instructions to change my dressing every six hours to avoid infection.

I lie shirtless while she looks at my wound, gulping as I notice the uneasiness in her expression.

We return home, and the way she grabs my arm to support me doesn’t help at all. She is tiny compared to me, but she uses her strength to help me reach my room.

I lean back as soon as I sit on the bed. She settles the blanket over me and sits beside me.

“What the hell were you doing out there?” The words leave her mouth, and I scoff before groaning in pain. I don’t realize that my wound is still fresh, and even scoffing affects it.

“Nothing…” I say slowly, trying not to tire myself.

“Anyway, we’ll talk later. Do you want something to eat?” She gets up, but I quickly grab her hand, making her stop.

“Thank you.”

There is a moment of silence between us… just our eyes meeting in a silent battle.

I move in my sleep, feeling a faint pain in my stomach. When I look at the time, I realize an hour has passed.

Emma slowly opens the door and is stunned to see me already staring at her. “Why are you up already?”

I sit back with a grunt and say, “I’m fine now.”

She gives me a nod and asks, “So, do you want me to bring the soup for you?”

The idea of having soup already makes me feel sick. One thing I hate is soup, and before I can give her an answer, she immediately adds, “I made a few more things as well.”

“I am willing to try the other few things…”

Then she rushes out of my room and comes back after a while, excitement dancing in her eyes. The moment she settles the tray in front of me, I’m impressed by the variety she has prepared.

Sitting beside the bed, she says, “I know soup can make a person feel sick, so I made sure you get to taste something different.”

I move my eyes from the food to her and, winking in her direction, say, “Well, I bet I’d like the taste of you, pretty girl.”

Her cheeks turn crimson, and that’s when I know my words are affecting her. I like seeing her shy or embarrassed, especially when she has no comeback.

“Try the grilled cheese,” she says, clearing her throat. I continue to grin as I start eating.

She notices that I’m not touching my soup, so she grabs one of the French fries, dips it into the soup, and stuffs it into her mouth.

I stare at her blankly as she shrugs her shoulders casually before asking, “What? You haven’t tried this before?”

Judging by my expression, she nods and does it again. Instead of eating it herself, she holds it in front of my mouth, asking me to eat.

“I’m not eating that…” I say, but she gives me a look. Eventually, I give up, sighing as I open my mouth and let her feed me the fry.

I try to take in the taste… it doesn’t taste so bad after all.

“Is this a hack?” I ask once I finish eating. I grab another fry and dip it into the soup, and when she notices, she smiles at me.

“No, it’s just a random combination I tried years ago. I never have soup without fries.”

The way she is looking over me for such a small injury is a kind gesture. I remember my last injury was one hell of a situation. I couldn’t get out of bed for almost a week, and I was alone.

My friends came to check on me with flowers, fruits, and whatnot, but no one stayed through the rough days. And here she is… cooking for me, feeding me with her own hands.

“Here!” I look to my right and see Emma standing there with a glass of water and some medicine in her palm. I take the medicine from her hand and quickly swallow it before sipping the water.

“Now, would you like to tell me why you were ignoring the wound?” Her sudden question catches me off guard. I take a long breath, trying to come up with a lie.

“I didn’t think it was bad…” The lie comes out of my mouth, convincing enough that she might believe it. Instead, she just purses her lips into a thin line, expecting me to be honest.

“Well, you’re exaggerating, Emma. It’s just a scratch.” My tone is simple and clear, and I know I sound very cold right now.

Her expression quickly changes, and she looks away from me before nodding. “Okay, I guess you should sleep now. It’s late.”

Just as she takes a step, I grab her wrist, and she looks back at me. I lean forward, closing the space between us.

“You’re forgetting something, pretty girl…” I whisper, my forehead touching her hair as I look down at her.

Her breaths become deeper as my hands touch both of hers. We stay like this for almost a second before she looks up at me and speaks in the softest tone possible.

“What is that?”

Then I take two steps back, unbuttoning my shirt and revealing my body to her. She keeps watching, her chest slowly rising and falling. Being the kind of guy I am, I can tell when a girl is starting to fall under my charm. 

And right now, Emma is clearly affected by me.

“The dressing…” We maintain eye contact, and I watch her for a moment before she nods and turns to bring the first-aid kit.

I sit back on the bed, letting her scoot closer to me. I can smell her fragrance, and somehow, it’s doing something to me.

Emma takes her time changing my dressing, making sure to be gentle with me. Yet each time her fingers touch my skin, something burns inside me.

Once she is done and about to leave, I grab her wrist and pull her toward me, pressing my lips against hers.

The kiss is soft at first, but eventually, it becomes more intense. My hand slides under her shirt, and the moment I touch her breasts, a soft moan escapes between our kisses.

She pulls back and, in a breathy voice, asks me, “Luca! Why did you kiss me?” I grin in return, licking my lips, and she continues, “There’s no one here. We don’t have to pretend.”

“We’re not, baby girl…” I casually say, enjoying her growing frustration.

“What does that mean?”

“Maybe I like kissing you…” I say, leaning forward. She frowns as I continue, “Maybe I like the way your body responds to me.”

I close the space between us again, my hand still gripping her waist. “Maybe you… Emma… enjoy the way I kiss you.” My hand moves down toward her hip, and I feel her panties through her shorts.

“Luca…” she breathes as I approach her again for the kiss. This time, she closes her eyes, her lips slightly parted. Instead of kissing her, I say, “My father…”

Her eyes are wide open the next moment, and she looks at me as I continue, “I am not allowed to stop… not until it’s a life-threatening situation.”

“What?” She looks completely blank.

“My father says he can’t afford any kind of delay. Regardless of the pain, I am told to perform.”

“What kind of insanity is this?” she blurts out, anger flashing in her eyes. “You were bleeding, Luca. You got three stitches!”

“At least I am not dying,” I say, and she gulps down her anger. Yet her gritted teeth tell me she is struggling to control it.

“Luca, this is not my place to say, but you were seriously hurt. Do you think this should be ignored?”

“Emma, you know nothing about my father. He doesn’t like excuses. As long as a person is breathing, everything is fine.”

She scoffs at my words, and I continue, “Behind the perfect image of Luca Hayes is the real me. I never show anyone… not even Tyler.”

I take a deep breath before adding, “I am not sure why the fuck I am telling you all this, but you shouldn’t be staying here anymore.” I laugh out of anger and pull myself away from her.

She rubs her hand over mine. “Luca, that’s okay. You’re fine.” Our eyes meet, and I notice another flicker of trust in her eyes. I don’t know why I keep pushing my thoughts away, yet they keep coming back.

I have been fighting for days not to let Emma enter my world, and eventually, I have let her get closer.

“I get it. You have a controlling father, and that’s okay. You don’t have to push me away.” She is only trying to make me feel better.

The poor girl doesn’t know that I might end up hurting her in the most painful way. If she keeps getting involved in my life, she could lose everything… just like I did.

I touch her face, softly brushing my fingers over her cheek. “Emma…” Before I can speak, my phone rings, and I turn to see the name of the incoming caller.

My expression tightens.

I grab my phone, putting it on speaker before answering. “Yes, David?”

David is my dad’s butler, and he has been working for him since I was eight. “Master Luca, your father has requested your presence at a family event tomorrow.”

I roll my eyes. Of course he has. My father probably heard about the accident on campus before I even made it home.

“He has also invited your girlfriend, Ms. Emma…”

The moment David finishes speaking, Emma and I exchange looks.

My father knows about her.

That thought alone makes my stomach tighten. He doesn’t bring people into my world without a reason, and knowing my father, there is nothing innocent about this.

Why does he want Emma there?

I look at her again, trying to figure out what my father could possibly want from her.

Whatever he has planned for tomorrow, I already know one thing.

This isn’t going to end well for either of us.