"You love it."
Despite his youth, Rowan had taken on the role of caretaker for me and Ryder. He was the official cook of our house, barely letting us near the stove. He kept us alive.
"I do." He grinned tiredly. "I really enjoy how inept you are at life. Did we seriously just stalk our coach?"
"Fuck, I think we did."
I hated doctors.By the time a hockey player had to see them, the news was rarely good. Missed games, ended careers, pain, tests, and endless questions.
“Have you experienced dizziness?” Doctor Paresh asked, shining a torturous light into my eyes.
“Some.” Honestly, this morning I’d been so dizzy I nearly fell while brushing my teeth.
She pressed her lips together, bright red against her dark skin, and I couldn’t help but remember how they’d felt against my own.
Yeah, I was the idiot who’d slept with one of the team doctors.
“Teddy, are you being honest with me?”
I gripped the edge of the paper-covered table in her office as another wave of dizziness hit, like a gust of wind trying to knock me down. The last time I’d been on this table, I’d been flat on my back, but for a much better reason.
Shit, I was an asshole.
Doctor Paresh was the ultimate professional, though. From the way she looked, all prim and put together, no one would guess she knew every inch of me.
I leaned back on my elbows and closed my eyes, fighting off a wave of nausea.
“Ah.” Her pen scratched across the chart on her clipboard. “It’s that bad?”
“No. It’s… It’ll go away. I just need another day’s rest, and I’ll be fine for the road trip.”
She gave me a look filled with pity. “I told you last night that it could take some time. Concussions are tricky. No two brains react the same, and we have to treat them with care. Some people bounce back right away, but for others, it takes longer. You can’t rush it. If you get out on the ice too soon, it could lead to lifelong complications.”
She retreated a step and turned to shuffle through the scans of my knee. “Not to mention this.” She held one up, pivoting soI could see it. Light filtered through the film, illuminating the bones and tendons. “Nothing’s torn. That’s the good news.”
“And the bad?”
She sighed. “This is the second time in as many weeks you’ve aggravated your old knee injury. I can tell something’s not right with it.”
“Not more surgery?” The thought made my stomach drop. Surgery had derailed my NHL dreams years ago, keeping me out for a year, and I never returned the same.
“No, I don’t think so. At least, not yet. Maybe eventually. For now, rest.” Her eyes locked with mine. “I mean it, Teddy. I’m telling Griff you can’t go on the upcoming road trip.”
“But the team will be gone for two weeks.”
“Which is just the start of the time you need. I’m guessing you’ll be out for three, but we can play it by ear.”
I climbed off the table slowly, reaching for my jeans to step into them. My balance was still off, and I tilted to the side. Doctor Paresh gripped my arm to keep me from falling.
A knock on the door made me jerk my gaze that way. Doctor Paresh, not seeming to notice I was only halfway into my pants and gripping her, told whomever it was to enter.
Coach Frankie yanked open the door and froze, her eyes bouncing from me to the doctor and back again. “For fuck’s sake, put your pants on, Valentine.”
“Trying, Coach.” I suppressed laugh, noticing how her cheeks reddened, almost matching the copper shade of her braided hair.
I released Doctor Paresh and yanked my jeans up, but when I tried to step into my shoes, my shoulder slammed into the wall.
“Shit.” Frankie rushed toward me, guiding me toward the nearest chair. I dropped into it as she knelt in front of me. Concussions might be good for one thing.
