Preston’s head snaps up, gaze trained one me. “What are they checking you for? Watching your stitches?” He pulls himself up off the floor and stalks the few feet between us, grips my chin and turns my head to get a better look at my forehead. “I have a concussion. I can start workouts today but I have to be watched by a trainer.” He pulls my face back to face him, concern and frustration in his expression. “Concussion? Are you okay?” I shrug, butterflies flutter in my stomach from his concern. “I’m fine.” His thumb brushes along my eyebrow closest to the cut. “It’s my fault.” His words are so
...more
