“One day soon, Valentine," Doctor Pravesh said, her voice quiet but firm as she approached with the needle. "We’re going to need to have a serious talk about that knee of yours."
I gave her a half-hearted smile, even though my insides tightened. "It’s fine, Doc. Just give me the shot."
"You hockey players are all the same," she muttered, shaking her head. "Stubborn fools. Tell me again that it's fine when you're staring down knee replacement surgery before you're forty, or when you're older and just walking feels like a punishment."
"I came here for a shot, not a lecture," I grumbled, my patience thinning.
Her eyes softened, but she didn’t stop preparing the injection. "Then, maybe you should’ve gone to Elmo’s." She smirked as she slid her hair back behind her ear. "I’m not going to coddle you."
A fleeting silence stretched between us, and then she looked at me like she was trying to figure me out. "You're in a rare mood, Valentine. Where's that easy smile of yours?"
I wanted to roll my eyes. "I don’t always have to smile," I snapped. I was sick of the expectations, the constant pressure to be the guy who always had it together. It was exhausting, and right now, I just didn’t have it in me.
She studied me a beat longer before her hand landed on my knee. Without warning, a sharp, searing pain shot through me, making me curse under my breath.
“Baby," she said, patting my shoulder like she was comforting a petulant child. "Want me to take a look at that chin of yours while we’re at it?"
"No." I gritted my teeth, pushing off the table and testing out my knee. The pain would fade soon enough; it always did. "I’m fine."
"But—"
"I said I’m fine, Doc." I shot her a look that brooked no argument.
She didn’t flinch. She’d dealt with enough moody athletes to know when to push and when to back off. Instead, she pointed toward the door, her voice clipped. "Get out of here with that attitude."
I opened my mouth to apologize, but when I saw the way she crossed her arms and leveled that look at me, I knew she wasn’t interested in hearing it. She was done.
"Fuck!" I kicked the door shut on my way out, the frustration bubbling over. It wasn’t just my knee that hurt; it was everything.
The flash of cameras nearly blinded me as I walked into the locker room, bare-chested and drenched in sweat. Reporters, who huddled around my teammates just moments ago, now swarmed me like a pack of hungry wolves. When I saw Frankie slip out of the room, my heart kicked into overdrive. I had to go. I had to find her. After a game like that, where the adrenaline had stolen everything from inside me, all I wanted was to feel something real. To not be alone.
"Excuse me," I muttered to the reporter, who was asking me yet another question, my voice barely audible over the noise. Ducking past them, ignoring Ryder's shout behind me, I ripped my bag out of my locker and quickly pulled on some clothes before I pushed into the hallway, where the families and friends of my teammates waited.
But Frankie was nowhere in sight.
However, two familiar faces caught my eye. "Teddy!" Stasia’s voice broke through the chaos before she rushed toward me,arms flying open. She had always been the loudest, the one who never hesitated to throw herself into everything. And God, it felt good to have her there.
I wrapped my arms around her, my gaze drifting to Sydney. She stood a little to the side.
"What are you guys doing here?" I asked, still holding Stasia tight.
Stasia grinned as I finally let her go. "San Jose doesn’t play for a few days. We thought we’d surprise you."
And surprise me, they did. I didn’t get to see my sisters nearly enough, even though they were only an hour away with good traffic. Especially Sydney. She was the one I’d clung to when everything in the family fell apart. But now, she was dating Ryder and living in San Jose. It felt like I wasn’t as big a part of her life as I used to be.
Stasia was married. So was our oldest sister, Kristen, though I hadn’t heard from her in years, and that stung. Yet, even with my sisters standing there, I couldn’t shake the deep loneliness that settled over me. There wasn’t a single person in this world who would choose me above everything else. And that, I realized, was what love really meant—being someone’s person, their ride-or-die.
Sydney, in her simple Sharks shirt and dark skinny jeans, looked like she belonged right here at my side. But she didn’t anymore.
"Is Ry on his way out?" she asked, her voice soft but knowing as she peered behind me.
"Trapped by reporters." I slid an arm around Stasia’s shoulders, pulling her in close. "Let’s meet him at Elmo’s."
Stasia chuckled, the sound light and easy. "Imagine that. Our brother can actually have a decent idea every once in a while."
I managed a smile, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. If only finding the right person, the one who would choose me first, were as easy as picking the right bar.
Elmo’s was crowded,but there was a table waiting for us in the shadowed corner, a familiar retreat. It wasn’t unusual for us to end up here after a game, not with the night bartender being a fan.
