Free Challenge by Amy Daws Page B

Cam’s bed and begins shaking his arm in an attempt to wake him.
    “Mmmm…yes,” Camden’s voice murmurs sleepily in a deep, throaty timbre. “Stroke lower, Indie. Don’t be shy,” he finishes and I swear on my life, I almost puke.
    “Camden!” Vi shouts and punches him hard in the stomach. “You pig!”
    He harrumphs and lets out a blast of air, wincing against her mighty blow. “Fuck, my knee! Bloody hell!” He reaches down to grasp his leg as I watch the entire scene in horror.
    “Don’t bloody hell me, you pervert!” Vi chastises him like a scolding mother.
    “I was sleeping! I can’t help it!” His eyes finally open more and immediately land on me. His lashes are dark and hooded around his sapphire blues. Damn, he even looks sexy now—horny, sleepy pig and all. “It was some dream,” he adds, scowling down at the chair where I was lying moments ago. He looks at me and my cheeks feel as if they are going to melt right off my face.
    Prichard’s deep chortle distracts all of us. “Well, I can’t say the boy doesn’t have good taste.” He looks over at me, not the slightest bit bemused.
    I straighten my glasses and frown. What is happening right now? If these blokes think I’m the hot, nerdy librarian type, they are going to be sorely disappointed. Those are the types that pull a pencil out of their buns and their silky locks tumble down to their shoulders, right? I can’t even remember the last time I brushed my hair.
    Despite my intense discomfort over this entire situation, I smile politely and glance back to Camden, who’s lost all good humour on his face. He’s indiscreetly shooting daggers at Prichard, making me want to throw up again. If I could cover myself in an invisibility cloak and disappear, I totally would.
    Prichard clears his throat and finally begins explaining to Cam and Vi where the scope incisions will be located on Cam’s knee, all while taking measurements. Cam listens intently but keeps eyeing me over his shoulder with a smouldering look that’s thankfully going unnoticed by everyone else.
    “Indie will be on one side, running scope two,” Prichard adds, “And I’ll be here, running scope one. Then we’ll make one more incision for the camera to show us what we’re doing in there. It’s a minimally invasive surgery and, because of this new 3D grafting technique, there won’t be any need for bone drilling.” Cam’s nostrils flare in response to the last part, but Prichard doesn’t seem to notice and continues, “You’ll be able to go home the same day.”
    “So one more night here and I’m good as new?” Camden asks, his voice stiff.
    “Nearly,” Prichard answers. “You’ll feel normal when you go home. You’ll start physical therapy immediately. But to get back your full mobility on the pitch, you need to have the graft removed, which is why we’ll have you come back in one month for the follow-up surgery.”
    “It’ll take a day or two for the swelling to go down around the incisions both times,” I add, feeling Camden’s tension and trying to calm his nerves. “But exercise is actually good for helping your incisions to heal.”
    “But no football?” he asks Prichard.
    “Not straight away. After the second surgery, you’re welcome to train at one hundred percent. Unfortunately, your season is over for this year, but there’s always next year, right mate?”
    Camden looks down and nods, seemingly far away with his thoughts.
    “Indie will take you for another MRI this morning. It’s always good to repeat after the swelling has gone down to make sure there’s nothing else we’re dealing with. We don’t like surprises in the OR if we can help it.”
    My blood turns cold as I think about being alone with Cam again after last night. After our ICU kiss, it’s not a good idea. “I’ll get an intern on it,” I respond, pulling out my mobile to page one of them.
    Prichard frowns at my lack of enthusiasm. Normally, I always do what he