Hailey’s POV
I couldn’t shake off the unease in my chest as I watched Paxton clutch his side, barely holding himself together. His assurance earlier, “I’m fine, Hailey,” replayed in my head, but his strained voice and the way he stumbled off the court told a different story. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow, his breathing labored. His normally confident stride was replaced with a limp, and I knew deep down he wasn’t fine.
I shouldn’t have come to this game. The crowd’s cheers and jeers echoed in my mind, but they were a distant hum compared to the pounding of my heart. This wasn’t just a game—it was dirty, brutal, and downright nasty. When I signed up as an intern nurse for the team, I didn’t know I’d be walking into something that felt more like a battlefield than a basketball court
