That gets her attention, and she turns toward me, brows lifted.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Heidi signed off, my trainer’s signed off. Coach too. I’m on the ice for the next game, but it’s all road stretch. Ten days. Calgary, Edmonton, then east.”
Her expression flickers, and something tightens around the corners of her mouth before she catches it.
“That’s good,” she says, a little too lightly. “I mean, it’s what you’ve been working toward.”
I nod again, eyes back on the road. “Yeah. It is.”
There’s another beat of silence, and I can see her fidgeting with her hands from my periphery. Then her voice cuts through, quiet and careful.
“Could we… I mean, do you mind if we go to your place?”
I blink, not because I’m opposed—not even close—but because it’s her asking. Because it’sher.Dr. Carina Park, with her walls and rules and careful control, is asking to come into my space. With no additional pretext or excuses.
“You sure?”
She nods. “I don’t wanna go home yet.”
My throat goes dry, and I glance over again, but her gaze is fixed now. She means it. And maybe it’s stupid how much that matters to me, but I don’t care.
“Okay,” I say, and take the next turn.
By the time we pull into my driveway, she’s kicked her shoes off and curled her legs beneath her in her seat, talking animatedly as the city passed us by. I tried not to steal sideways looks at her the whole drive, but she’s fucking adorable like this.
Once I cut the engine, I step out and meet her on the passenger side before she even reaches for the handle.
“Really?” she says, watching me open it. “You gonna do this every time?”
“Pretty much.” I offer a hand. “Get used to it.”
She rolls her eyes but takes it anyway, and I spot the slightest curl at the corner of her lip as I help her down.
Inside, my house is quiet and dimly lit, just as I left it. I hit the entryway lights and watch her as she steps over the threshold.
There’s no polite guest shuffle, and she doesn’t hover awkwardly or ask where to put her coat. She slips it off, tosses it over the stair railing, and steps further in like she belongs.
“Just a heads up,” I say as I toe off my boots. “My cat’s a dick.”
She glances over her shoulder, one brow raised.
“I’m serious,” I add. “She’ll only barely tolerate me and my friend’s kid, but everyone else, she tries to murder.”
As if summoned, Gremlin, the little demon, slinks out from the shadows and makes a beeline for her.
Carina stops mid-step. “So this is—”
“Yeah,” I say grimly. “That’s Gremlin.”
The cat freezes, eyes narrowed and locked on Carina like she’s already planning where to sink her teeth first.
“Shit,” I mutter, stepping forward. “Don’t move. She goes for the ankles.”
But instead of extending a singular claw, Gremlin lets out a soft chirp, then rubs herself against Carina’s leg with a full-body lean.
Carina crouches down and runs a hand over the cat’s arched back. “Hi, gorgeous. You must be Gremlin.”
