"No one," I replied quickly. "I've gotta go." I climbed into my BMW, took a deep breath, and tried to clear my mind. No contact from her since… I shook my head, focusing on the drive ahead.
It felt good to be back behind the wheel, even in Bay Bridge traffic. As I pulled into the arena parking lot and saw Griff's, Doc's, Sullivan's, and Remy's cars, a sinking feeling hit me. If the coaches were meeting, she was here too, just beyond those doors. I glanced at my attire—black sweatpants and a Guardians t-shirt—and cursed myself for not dressing better. Checking the mirror, I noted the dark circles under my eyes and my unkempt hair.
I hadn't been sleeping well lately. Shit.
There wasn’t much to be done about it, so I dragged myself out of the car and into the building. I could hear voices coming from Griff's office, but I took a turn into the medical wing, where Doctor Pravesh was wiping down a counter.
When she saw me, her smile was warm and welcoming, just like it always was. It was one of the things I’d liked about her, even when she’d been in my bed. Our night together had been… nice. Pleasant. Not fiery or passionate, but exactly what we both needed at the time. We’d shared something without regret. Now, she was one of the few people I trusted completely in this organization.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite patient,” she said, gesturing for me to come in.
I plopped myself onto the small table, the crinkling paper making that familiar noise. “What’s this thing actually called?” I asked.
She let out a soft laugh. “The exam table,” she replied with a playful glint in her eye, shaking her head. “It’s not a bed. No one sleeps on it.”
I leaned back on my elbows, stretching. “Good. Has anyone ever told you how god-awful uncomfortable it is?”
Her eyebrow arched as she gave me a look.
“Need me to strip, doc?” I winked at her, the words teasing but light.
She rolled her eyes so dramatically it was almost impressive. I chuckled. It was the easy, familiar camaraderie I liked to keep with women I’d had… things… with. If I brought someone home, it meant I enjoyed being around them, so staying friends was a natural progression. Ryder used to joke in college that the only way I made friends was by sleeping around.
“No stripping today.” She smirked. “Just roll up your pant leg.”
She sat on a stool in front of me, her eyes scanning me. “How are you feeling today? Any dizziness or headaches?”
“Right as rain,” I answered.
She gave me a skeptical look, but I was being honest.
“Hmmm…” she murmured, pulling a penlight from her pocket. She shone it into my eyes then had me follow her finger. “You seem fine.”
“That’s because I am,” I grinned.
I slid off the exam table, but she held up a hand.
“Not so fast. If I’m clearing you to play, I need to check out that knee.”
I exhaled heavily, staring at the ceiling while she undid my knee brace and started pressing into the tender areas. Pain shotup my thigh, but I clenched my teeth and didn’t let it show. A little pain wasn’t going to stop me from playing.
“Have you been resting it?” she asked.
“Couch rotting so much my sister had to drag me out to shower this morning.” I flashed her a grin.
Doc shook her head in disbelief. “Sydney’s a saint for putting up with you.”
“Oh, you know you love me. I’m your favorite,” I teased.
She laughed as she rolled back on her stool, eyeing me carefully. “All right, here’s the deal. I’m clearing you to play.”
I winked at her, but she quickly raised a hand.
“Before you celebrate, know this: I’m watching you. The second I see any sign you’re not ready, I’m pulling you.”
“You got it, Doc,” I said. “But as long as I’m back on the ice, I’ll be fine. Promise.”
“I swear you could be missing a lung and still talk me into clearing you,” she said with a small shake of her head.
