Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“Partial,” Boyle replied. “Partial but almost full. He’s yours.” She handed him Tristan’s medical file and left as he flipped through it.
At last, Jared looked up and met Tristan’s eyes. “You know what will happen if you return too soon? You might be able to play through discomfort, but it’s more likely you’ll re-injury your groin again and won’t be able to participate in the World Cup at all.”
“But—”
“Tristan,” Jared cut him off, not unkindly. “I don’t think you understand the seriousness of the situation. Returning to training too soon is a common mistake that you already made. You had a grade one strain five months ago. It was just a slight tearing of muscle fibers. It was a little painful, and the muscle had near normal strength. By your own insistence, you were back on the pitch in ten days—much earlier than you should have been. Then you got another groin injury, that time more serious, but you were back in training less than three weeks later. And now you’ve torn it almost completely. You won’t be back on the pitch in a month. That’s out of the question.”
“You aren’t the senior club doctor,” Tristan said nicely. “Dr. Boyle is.”
Jared gave him a flat look. “Dr. Boyle will leave the club in a few months’ time and I’ll be the one sorting out this mess. Do you really want to risk your career? Do I need to remind you how many footballers lost their fitness and speed forever due to poorly treated injuries? It’s not your first groin injury or even second. It’s a third consecutive groin injury. That doesn’t look good. You need a proper, slow rehabilitation program. We can’t rush it again. Forget about the World Cup and think about your career.”
Tristan’s lips thinned. “Fine. But I still want to return to the pitch by the end of April at the very latest.”
Jared pinched the bridge of his nose, his headache making itself known once again. “We’ll see how it goes. The other problem is, we’re short on physios. We’ll have to hire a physio for you.”
“I want only the very best,” Tristan said, looking at Jared. “You.”
Gabriel put a hand on Jared’s neck. “Jared is a doctor, not a physio.”
Jared almost laughed at that. What a little hypocrite.
“I want the best,” Tristan said again.
“As the senior doctor of the rehabilitation center, I’ll obviously supervise your recovery, but I can’t be your physiotherapist. I don’t have the time—you’ll need someone who will work closely with you.”
“Just find me the best physio, then,” Tristan said.
“I know the best physio in England.” Jared frowned, studying Tristan. “But I’m not sure it’s a good idea. You wouldn’t like his methods. He’s not patient with his clients.”
Tristan looked decidedly unimpressed. “I can handle anyone. I just want the best.”
“All right, but don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” Jared turned to the intern. “For now, apply ice every hour for fifteen minutes, Eric. He must wear a compression support all the time to limit bleeding and swelling. No stretching and no exercise. Rest only and put his feet up.”
“Sure, Dr. Sheldon,” Eric said, smiling at him. He stepped closer to Jared, looking at him from under his long dark eyelashes. “How is your headache? Do you want me to bring you—”
Gabriel stepped between them. “You were told what to do,” he bit off. “Are you dense?”
Jared stared at the back of Gabriel’s head. Eric was blinking rapidly.
Tristan was the one who broke the silence, his amused eyes fixed on his brother. “You know, you’d better put a sack on his head if you don’t want people to look at Jared.”
The intern looked between them, puzzled. “What?”
“It’s not your fault,” Tristan told him. “It’s Eric, right?” When the intern nodded, Tristan smiled at him. “There are a few unwritten rules here, Eric. No one talks about them, but everyone knows them.” He pointed at Jared and winked at the intern. “Dr. Sheldon is very hot, huh?”
Eric flushed, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
Jared shook his head. “Tristan—”
But Tristan continued, “Now see the other guy? The one who looks like he wants to piss all over Jared?”
Gabriel spluttered, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
“Tristan, that’s enough,” Jared said, his voice hard.
Tristan put on an innocent face, widening his eyes. “My bad, I forgot we were all supposed to ignore the elephant in the room.”
“You—” Gabriel started, taking a step to the table, but Jared caught Gabriel’s fist and pulled him back against his chest.
“Enough, both of you.” He glanced at the intern. “Ice and compression, Eric. Keep his leg elevated and don’t let him move until I’m back.”
He steered Gabriel out of the office.
Looking around, he pushed Gabriel into the nearest room and closed the door. “All right, what the hell was that?”