He nodded slowly, thumb rubbing across the seam of his joggers. “I’ve used it in the past, but it wasn’t grief-related. When things got too loud, it helped me focus.”
“Then it works,” I said. “Don’t assign it a job it doesn’t need. You don’t have to rewire it for grief. It’s a pattern your body already recognizes.”
He leaned forward again, elbows resting on his knees. “And what if it doesn’t work?”
“It’s not about eliminating the reaction,” I said. “It’s about giving your system something to grab onto. A rail to hold when everything spins.”
He nodded again, slower this time. “Right. Rails. Got it.”
I picked up my tablet, logged the tap cue into his profile, then looked back up. “Let’s walk through what the first five minutes of the game might feel like. From tunnel to kickoff.”
He sat straighter. “Okay. Booth will do his whole ‘breathe or break’ speech. Then we get the call to move. It’s loud, even before we hit the tunnel.”
I let him keep talking. These were the moments that told me more than any intake form ever could.
When his session was over, he stood but didn’t leave right away. He leaned a shoulder against the frame, flashing that crooked grin like he wasn’t about to take the field in three hours. He seemed lighter now than he did earlier, and my chest swelled with pride knowing I helped him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at his grin.
“You sure you don’t wanna come watch warm-ups from the sidelines today?” he asked. “I’ll even do the elbow tuck how Gio would’ve wanted. Extra sharp for your notes.”
I smirked, standing to walk him out. Sometimes people lingered, and the trick was to walk with them as they left, so you controlled your office. “As tempting as that is, I can’t. I’ve got three more appointments and a very detailed checklist to complete.”
“You always have a checklist.” He stepped into the hall and turned to face me again. “You ever wing it? Say fuck it?”
“I work very hard to never wing anything.”
He gave me a look—half challenge, half approval. “That’s a shame. You seem like someone who’d look good off script.”
I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t hate the way he said it. “That sounded too much like a line, there Jordan. Reel it in.”
“That’s because it was.” He winked, walking backward a few steps before turning toward the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Doc. Appreciate you.”
I turned back toward my door and nearly ran into Oliver.
He stood a few feet down the hall, hands in his hoodie pockets, jaw tight. His eyes flicked past me toward where Jordan had disappeared down the stairwell, then landed on me again.
He didn’t say anything. Just stood there. Watching with his intense blue eyes that held more wisdom than most people I knew. His gold chain hung over his shirt, and his jaw was tight.
I straightened, pressing my tablet to my chest with a slight increase of my pulse. “You’re early.”
He shrugged, but the gesture wasn’t casual. “Didn’t want to be late.”
“Jordan finished.” I stepped back to hold the door open. “Come in.”
He walked past me without a word. No teasing. No smirk. No flicker of humor like he usually led with. His energy felt different. Sharper. Pulled tighter than usual.
I closed the door behind us, heart knocking a little harder than it needed to.
Something had shifted. He seemed different than last night, than when I was in his apartment. God, my stomach twisted. I shouldn’t have gone into his place. It was so unprofessional. He was a player, and I was brand-new—if anyone found out…I shuddered, ice flooding through my veins.
Get it together, Sloane.
“How are you feeling?—”
“What did you put in the report?” he cut in. His voice was even, but the tone was sharp enough to slice through air.
I froze. His posture had changed. His arms were crossed tight across his chest, his jaw locked. He wasn’t sitting. He wasn’trelaxed. His pupils looked blown wide and not from the lighting. He was ready for a hit.
“I told the truth,” I said carefully. My palm was damp against my tablet, and I lowered it slowly to the table. “I reported the symptoms that showed up in walk-through. I noted the stress response, the compensation patterns, and your overall performance holding steady under elevated pressure.”
