I picture her on the other end—probably in her own apartment, maybe curled up on a couch of her own, phone in hand. Does she text all her patients reminders? Probably. She seems like the type to be thorough.
But it’s nine-thirty at night. She’s thinking about my shoulder at nine-thirty at night.
I shouldn’t read into that. I read into it anyway.
Yes ma’am. Wouldn’t dream of it.
Three dots. Then:That’s what I like to hear. See you tomorrow, Bishop.
I set the phone down.
Crisis averted. For now. But I’m one emergency away from total disaster, and I know it.
And somehow, a text from Tori is the first thing that’s made me smile all week.
I’m in trouble.
5
TURBULENCE
Tori
The team charter is already buzzing by the time I board. Someone’s playlist is competing with a poker argument in the back, and there’s a catering spread that could feed a small army.
It’s... a lot.
The plane is sleek and spacious, leather seats arranged in clusters of four with tables between them. I grab a window seat near the front and try to look like I belong here.
“First time on the bird?”
I look up. Logan Palmer is grinning down at me, all golden retriever energy and floppy hair. He’s twenty-three, a rookie forward, and possibly the most cheerful person I’ve ever met. The guys call him “Cupcake” because he’s too pretty for hockey—all blue eyes, dimples, and a jawline that belongs in a skincare commercial.
“That obvious?”
“You’re sitting up straight, and you haven’t touched the snacks.” He drops into the seat across from me. “Rookie mistake. Always hit the snacks before Woody gets here. Guy’s a bottomless pit.”
“Woody?”
“Archer Lockwood. Aka Woody.” He shrugs. “We’re not that creative with nicknames.”
I smile. “Yours is Cupcake, right?”
He grins. “Yeah. I’ve embraced it. Gotta lean into your brand, you know?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Also, the puck bunnies love it.”
I snort. “Of course they do.”
He leans back, propping his feet on the seat next to me. “So you’re Bish’s shadow now, huh? How’s that going?”
“Bish?”
“Bishop. Bish. Zay. Daddy. Daddy Z.” He ticks them off on his fingers. “The man has endless nicknames because he’s too easy to mess with.”
My face goes hot atDaddy, and my brain takes a sharp left turn into territory it has no business visiting.
“You okay?” Logan’s watching me with a curious expression. “You look kind of flushed.”
“Fine. Just, um, it’s warm on the plane.” I fan myself like an idiot. “So. You were saying. About Bishop.”
