Still empty.
What the hell’s your problem, Shaw?
Because if you’re going to play like that - you might as well stick around long enough to celebrate it.
13
LEONORA
The spa smells of eucalyptus and something expensive I can’t pronounce.
I’ve traded my hockey gear for a soft white robe; my hair twisted loosely into a towel while Willow and Katie sprawl on the loungers beside me like they were born for this kind of environment.
I look like someone who has been repeatedly thrown into a wall. Which becomes obvious very soon after we sit down.
Willow is halfway through describing the benefits of hot stone therapy when her eyes land on my ribs.
She gasps. “Leonora.”
I glance down. A dark bruise stretches across my side, blooming purple and yellow under the soft lighting.
Katie leans forward immediately. “Oh my god.”
“It looks worse than it feels,” I say quickly.
“That looks like you were hit by a car,” Willow replies.
“Not quite - just a defenceman. A large one.”
“That’s not better!”
Katie gently touches the edge of the bruise with one finger, careful not to press.
“You didn’t tell us it was like this.”
Willow stares at me. “Leonora Shaw, are you absolutely sure this is worth it?”
The question lingers in the air.
I think about the game last night. About the moment the puck slid perfectly onto Zane’s stick. And about the roar of the crowd when the buzzer sounded and the scoreboard finally showed a win for the Giants.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “I’m sure.”
Katie nods. “Okay.”
Willow sighs dramatically.
“Well, if you change your mind, I can get you competition-ready for a figure skating tournament in about three weeks.”
“You couldn’t,” I laugh.
“I absolutely could,” she insists. “With the added bonus of elegant costumes and a shitload of sparkles. And I guarantee you won’t come out of it looking like you wrestled a refrigerator.”
“These are just temporary.”
“Your bones hope so.”
Willow waves a hand. “Anyway. More important topic.”
