Nonetheless, I’m hefted up by my teammates, who don’t seem to want to let go. I pull away to skate to the net, but a sharp twinge in my inner thigh makes me hiss through my teeth.
“Locker room. Now.” Coach’s acid tone cuts off any arguments I might have. Even if I had tried to argue, Luke’s glare alone would have cut me off before I started.
After a nerve-racking assessment, I’m diagnosed with what I already knew—a groin pull. I’m relieved it’s not a tear, but itmeans I can’t practice or play for a week, possibly two. That part sucks because I need to be there for my team tomorrow night.
To make things worse, I can’t attend the game because I have to keep my leg elevated for the first several days and do the whole RICE—rest, ice, compression, elevation—thing so I can get back to the net.
Plus, I’m not allowed to drive, which means I can’t help Bree return her U-Haul. Just as that revelation hits, I hear the guys’ voices as they file into the locker room. When Luke walks into the exam room, he takes one look at me with my leg up and an ice pack on my inner thigh and lets out a stream of curses that twists the dagger of guilt already hanging out of my chest.
I hate—and I do mean hate with a passion—letting my team down. Closing my eyes, I groan and tip my head back on the minuscule rectangle they call a pillow in this place. “Sorry.”
Luke scrapes a hand down his face. “How bad?”
“Just a strain. But I’m out for at least a week.”
He nods. “Guess our new backup goalie will get more playtime sooner than expected.”
Rebecca and Zach did a trade for Mason Holt after last season, so he’s still getting used to how we do things. I’ve worked with him a fair bit, and so far, he seems a good fit. But he hasn’t had to perform under pressure yet.
“What?!” Ethan slides in from behind Luke. “Cowboy, say it ain’t so.”
“Wish I could, but you fellas will be fine.” I’m the one who will turn into a nutcase because I won’t be there.
Luke snorts. “In your dreams.” He cringes when he looks at me and sees the remorse I’m feeling. “Sorry. I know you’re probably more upset about it than we are.”
I have no words, so I simply nod.
The room gets smaller when Elias and Payton squeeze in, along with Mathéo.
An awkward silence fills the small exam room as they bounce their gazes to one another in some secret communication I’m not privy to.
Payton’s the first to speak. “What do you need, mate?”
My gaze coasts from one concerned face to another. “I told Bree I’d take her U-Haul back for her today.”
Elias clears his throat. “I can handle that.”
I lift my chin at him. “Thanks, man.”
He holds his hand out for a bro-shake. “No problem.”
Ethan shifts from one leg to the other. “What else?”
They surround me like an upside-down horseshoe. These guys aren’t just my teammates; they’re my best friends, and I’m letting them down when they need me the most.
I glance at the crutches the therapist brought in for me. This affects more than my position on the team. “Look out for Bree, okay?”
Mathéo lifts his brows.
I clench my jaw and speak through my teeth. “Hands off, Barbie-man, or you’ll resemble a Ken doll, if you catch my meaning.”
His face pales, matching the walls in the room. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I was only going to suggest we help her get familiar with Sarabella, since you’ll be laid up.”
“Fine, but go in groups,” I snarl.
Luke pats my shoulder. “Chill, man. We know better than to touch your girl.”
“She’s not mine.” I drop my head onto the pathetic pillow with a groan.
