Twinstinct is what the media dubbed the synchronicity that happens when Crew and I are on the ice together. They think we can read each other’s mind and since we can pass to each other without looking, it’s some twin-related telepathy thing. Really, it just comes from playing together since birth, but whatever. I don’t care what anyone calls it.
“I’m playing no matter what.”
“Nash…”
“No. You know how this works Gabby. It’s the time of year where we push it all aside, freeze whatever needs freezing, wrap whatever needs wrapping, and get on with it.” She frowns. I don’t care and my face shows it.
She sighs and her hands go to my leg. I jump a little because her hands are freezing. She chuckles. “Sorry.”
She spends a good five minutes pushing and prodding and then has me lie back and lifts my leg, twisting and turning the knee this way and that. She finally puts my leg back on the table. “You didn’t so much as flinch.”
“I know. It’s just this constant radiating pain, not attached to movement. When I’m out there on the ice, I’m cool. But sitting still, I can’t ignore it.”
“Hmm…” Gabrielle looks worried and that doesn’t help my own concerns. Her big brown eyes meet mine. “We need an x-ray.”
“Fuck. Really?”
“Yes. Sorry,” Gabrielle replies. “This could still be nothing. Muscle strain. Just some more loose cartilage we can freeze and worry about in the off-season. But we need to know for sure.”
“Okay. Fine. I’ll head to the clinic tomorrow,” I say, but I sound like a pouting child. As I swing my legs off the table my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out and am thrilled to see my attorney Charlie Sullivan’s name. “Sorry. I have to take this.”
Gabrielle nods and leaves the room, heading back into her office. I stay in the exam room and answer the call. “Hey Charlie, thanks for getting back to me.”
“Of course,” Charlie says and the sympathy is already in her voice. “I see your little problem wasn’t as little as you thought it was.”
“Yeah. Why didn’t we find it in a record search?”
“Because they clearly hadn’t filed it yet,” Charlie explains. “And honestly, they might still have not filed it. I’ll do another check, with your permission.”
“Yeah. Please.”
“Can you scan the certificate and email it over to me?” Charlie requests. “Because if it’s not filed, I’ll contact the chapel and get it destroyed.”
“And then I’m not…” I glance into Gabriella’s office and she’s not even pretending not to listen to me. “We’re not. It’s just gone?”
“Poof! Like it never happened.”
“Great so I can finally forget what I don’t even remember.” I sigh, but there’s relief in it not just frustration because I’m hoping against hope that this chapel really did forget to file the marriage certificate.
“Exactly. Hang tight, Nash. Focus on the playoffs. I’ll get this settled,” Charlie promises. “Even if it is filed, we can annul it pretty quick considering neither of you remember it and haven’t lived together let alone assumed a married life or consummated the relationship.”
“Okay. Thanks. Please keep me posted on everything. Call day or night.”
“Will do.”
“And charge whatever it takes.”
She laughs. “I mean you two hate each other, which is usually a cash cow for me because the divorce takes long, but this one is gonna be quick and dirty, which means cheap.”
“I’ll pay anything to end this, though. Just know that.”
“Understood. Talk soon.”
I shove my cell in my pocket and walk back into Gabriella’s office. She’s smiling. “That sounded like a bed buddy situation gone wrong.”
It's weird for me the minute she says that. Because Gabrielle is a bed buddy. My bed buddy. Or at least she was, for most of the season. It was such a regular thing that I insisted we both go to HR and sign the required forms. The Quake doesn't fuck around with intra-office relationships and makes sure everyone files a consensual relationship agreement. She was opposed to it at first because she didn't want anyone to know. I didn't either, but I'm a total rule follower and I wasn't going to risk someone finding out inadvertently. Because it would be Gabrielle who got reprimanded, not me. I'm the star player. She understood when I put it that way and we've both managed to keep it silent. We also both agree it's casual and maybe that's why it's kind of flamed out in the last couple of months. And why she doesn't look annoyed or upset about the idea I might have a different bed buddy.
“No. That’s not about someone I’m involved with.” Just someone I’m married to, my brain chirps, and I almost laugh at the absurdity. "It's a long story but trust me, the person I'm talking about I've never seen naked and I never want to."
