“You in for this?” Tucker asked Leo.

Leo grinned. “Of course.”

He slapped Leo on the back. “Let’s take them down.”

They blindsided Barrett on a trick play. Tucker ran with the ball, then tossed it to Leo, who skirted past a diving Grant and scored.

“Sonofabitch, that kid is fast,” Grant said.

When Leo laughed, Grant said, “I mean, good job, Leo.”

Barrett’s gaze narrowed. “He’s the enemy. Quit telling him he did good.”

“Come on, he’s my kid. I have to tell him when he did a good job.”

Tucker couldn’t help but notice the wide grin on Leo’s face. He’d never had a father figure—or at least one that he remembered. Having Grant in his life now meant the world to him. That made Tucker happy for Leo.

Barrett scored on a toss from Grant after Barrett shoved a shoulder into Tucker and knocked him down—the bastard. So when they had the ball next, Tucker pulled Leo aside.

“How’s your passing?”

“Uh . . . kinda sucks.”

“That’s okay. All you have to do is throw it up in the air. I’ll catch it.” He discussed the play with Leo, then they broke and faced off against Barrett and Grant.

“I’m gonna bury you,” Barrett said to him.

“Quit talking shit and prepare to get your ass kicked,” Tucker said.

Barrett dug in. So did Tucker. Then they were off. Tucker ran like hell, and turned to catch the ball Leo had lofted into the air. He could see the ball, and in a few steps he’d have it.

He ran smack into a pile of discarded rocks. He didn’t have time to stop, so he tumbled over them and banged his head—hard—on the ground.

For a few seconds, everything went black. And everything on his body fucking hurt.

He rolled over onto his back, hoping like hell he hadn’t broken anything important, like his pitching arm.

“Hey, dumbass, you hurt?”

He blinked and saw Barrett standing over him. At least he thought it was Barrett.

“Don’t know.”

“Shit.” Barrett held out his hand. “Come on, let’s get you up and check the damage.”

He reached out and Barrett hauled him to his feet.

“Oh, fuck.” He dropped like a rock back to the ground, dizziness making him feel like he was going to barf up the contents of that amazing dinner he’d just eaten.

“Uh-oh. That’s not good,” Grant said, crouching down beside him. “Did you hit your head?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, when I hit the ground.”

By then Katrina and Anya were out there surrounding him.

“What happened?” Katrina asked.

“He can’t run for shit,” Barrett said. “That’s why he plays baseball.”

He wanted to say something sarcastic back to his brother, but his head had started to pound. And then everyone started talking at once, which only made his head hurt worse.

“He needs to go to the ER.”

That got his attention. He looked up at Katrina. “No, I don’t. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. You hit your head. You’re dizzy.”

That much was true. But the last thing he wanted to do was go to the hospital. “I’m fine.”

“I think Katrina’s right,” Grant said. “Come on, Barrett. Let’s pull him up and we’ll take a drive to the ER.”

He felt hands grab him under his arms, then he was lifted. And then he got the spins again. And felt like throwing up.

Not good.

“I feel a lot better when I’m sitting down.”

“Which is why we’re taking you to the hospital. Moron.”

If he didn’t feel like shit, he’d take a swing at Barrett for calling him moron. But right now he couldn’t tell which one was Grant and which one was Barrett.

“Can I go with you?” Leo asked.

“I don’t think so,” Grant said. “You should stay here and do your homework. I’ll be sure to let you know how he is.”

“I’m fine.” He needed to expand his vocabulary. Soon.

His brothers managed to walk him out front and shove him in the backseat of one of Grant’s cars.

“Call me,” Katrina said before kissing Grant. “I want to know what the doctors say.”

“They’ll say he can’t run for shit,” Barrett said with a grin before climbing into the front seat.

Tucker just wanted to lie down and take a nap. He didn’t want to go to the ER.

“Which one did you go to last time you got hurt?” Grant asked.

“Mercy General. So don’t take me there.”

“Why not?”

“Aubry Ross works there.”

“Who’s Aubry Ross?”

His stomach hurt. He hoped he didn’t throw up in Grant’s car. “The daughter of the team owner. She’s a doctor.”

Grant looked at Barrett, then grinned. “So, Mercy General it is, then.”

Barrett nodded. “Yup.”

“I hate you both right now.”

Grant started up the car and pulled down the driveway. “We know.”

WHEN AUBRY GRABBED THE CHART AND SAW TUCKER’S name on it, she rolled her eyes.

“Really?”

Marie nodded. “Yes, really. He’s in room eleven. With his two brothers. Who, I might add, are just as good-looking as he is. The Cassidys win the hot and sexy gene pool.”