Page 3 of Summer with a Player

"Hey, it was his birthday!" I defend myself. "I thought it would be a fun surprise."

"Fun for us, maybe," Kaleb chuckles. "But I don't think Coach appreciated it as much as we did."

"Especially since some of them were filled with confetti and glitter," Ryder adds, smirking.

"Yeah, I admit that part may have been a bit over the top," I say, raising my hands in mock surrender as everyone around the table laughs .

These guys are like brothers to me, and being able to unwind and enjoy these moments really makes a difference in our performance on the ice.

"Guys," I say, getting serious. "We've got our eyes set on the championship cup this season, and I know we can do it. But it's gonna take everything we've got. Dedication, focus, teamwork… We need to give it our all."

The others nod in agreement, and I can see the fire in their eyes. This is more than just a game for us; it's our passion, our dream, our lives.

Chapter 2

Elle

I barrel through the glass doors of the lab, my heart hammering in my chest like a drumline. I'm late—again—for the Carrier meeting, and the smell of Lysol does nothing to calm my nerves. I scan the room; there's no escaping it, every seat is taken. With a silent curse, I kneel awkwardly at the only space available, a gap between two chairs at the long table.

"Elle, since you've just joined us," my boss starts, his voice dripping with amusement, "perhaps you'd like to share your thoughts on the new specimen tracking system?"

My hand shoots up before I even register the snickers around me. Too late, I realize that from behind the table, only my eyesand furrowed brow are visible to the rest of the group. I launch into my answer anyway, determined to prove my worth beyond my punctuality—or lack thereof.

As I talk, I can feel the laughter bubbling around me like a pot threatening to boil over. The moment I finish, the room erupts. My cheeks burn, but I shrug it off, raising my arms in a helpless 'what can you do?' gesture. I can’t do anything other than laugh along, letting the sound wash over me.

"Classic Elle," one of my coworkers says and chuckles.

"Next time we'll get you a booster seat," another Carrier teases.

"Or maybe a periscope," I quip back, and our laughter melds together.

It only takes me a few minutes to grab my empty coolers with dry ice, load up my lab assigned minivan, and hit the road.

The lab fades in the rearview mirror as I steer my vehicle onto the roads of Charleston. The day's mission: to collect samples from clinics dotted around the city. At each stop, I exchange pleasantries with receptionists and medical staff.

"Morning, Elle! Late rush today?" asks the smiling receptionist at the first clinic.

"Always racing against time," I reply with a chuckle, gathering vials like precious gems.

"Tell me about it," she sighs, handing me a clipboard. "You're like the sandpiper—swift and uncatchable."

"Better swift than slow," I shoot back, my thumb unconsciously finding its way to my mouth. I catch myself and pull it away, replacing the nervous habit with a grin.

"Take care, Elle!" she calls out as I leave, the door jingling behind me.

Each interaction is brief but genuine. There's comfort in this routine, in the easy banter that flows naturally.

The sun climbs higher as I make my way to the next pickup. But this time, the clinic's door opens to a flustered nurse who greets me with an apologetic frown instead of the usual batch of lab samples.

"Elle, I'm so sorry, but we're running behind. The labs aren't ready yet," she explains.

"Hey, no worries," I say, leaning against the counter with practiced ease. "I'll just do a quick Charleston shuffle around your waiting room. You know, for the cardio."

She chuckles, the tension in her shoulders easing a fraction. "I'll try and hurry them along for you."

"Take your time. Quality over speed, right?" I offer a reassuring smile, though inside, I'm calculating the ripple effect this delay will have on my schedule.

"Thank you, Elle. You're always so understanding," she says, rushing back to the chaos beyond the reception area.

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