Page 13 of Lost the Handle

Shelli: I think he’ll wait till the wedding and then have them switch out. Emery is crazy enough to do it.

Owen: Nah, she’ll kill her before that happens.

Shelli: True.

Posey: Oh yeah. Or, like I said, kidnap our baby brother for herself.

Evan: Either way, I hope she succeeds. Quinn, she’s your person.

Leave it to Evan to be all sentimental and shit. I roll my eyes, clicking out of the group chat to just Posey.

Me: Hey, I saw you’re having a shit day. You good? Need me to stop by?

Her text comes through immediately.

Posey: Shouldn’t I be asking you that?

Me: I’m fine. Are you?

Posey: Not really. And of course you can come by. Zac misses you as always.

Me: What happened?

Posey: The doctors don’t think I can have a viable pregnancy. I know we can adopt or even do a surrogate, but IDK. I’m just a bit sad about it.

Me: Understandable. I’m finishing up at the clinic, and I’ll grab us some dinner on the way over.

Posey: Don’t you have better things to do?

I scoff. If only she knew that I needed the distraction from who is at my house. I’m sure by now my whole apartment smells of Emery. Cherries and bergamot. Her shit will be everywhere, and I just can’t face her right now. Because if I do, I’ll enjoy the sight of all her shit mixed in with mine. Of her draped along my couch or sitting at her desk on her computer. It’ll bring me back to our old times. Fuck, she makes me crazy. Emery knew exactly what she was doing. Coming into my space, intoxicating me with… All of her.

She knew I couldn’t resist.

No. I gotta go anywhere but home right now.

Especially after my rough day.

I’ve been working in the clinic for the last year. And don’t get me wrong, I love working under Dr. Abrams. But fuck, if this job isn’t stressful as shit. Since I wasn’t good at hockey, I wanted to make sure that no one had to leave the sport after an injury. I feel I let my dad down by not following in his footsteps. While he’s been nothing but supportive of Evan and his mental health journey, I don’t suffer from that. Evan was a carbon copy of my dad. He kicked ass on the ice; I just sucked. The hockey genes were evenly distributed between Evan and Owen, leaving me with only learning how to skate. Sometimes I feel like my dad thinks less of me because of that.

Which is why I want to help players get back on the ice.

What I didn’t expect was how much pressure there would be when you have someone’s body open and it’s your job to makesure to put them back together successfully. It’s terrifying. And I don’t know if it’s the upcoming wedding to Ava or if I’m just not made for this, but fuck, it’s hard to breathe once I step inside this clinic.

My apartment was my safe haven. And now, I have Emery there.

So yeah, I’m all for going to my sister’s house.

I may move in.

Shit. Emery would follow.

When I feel a hand cup my shoulder, I look up to see Dr. Abrams, a generic smile on his face. “Good work today.”

Yeah, I don’t believe a word he says. I was shaking so bad, I lost my grip on the Endoscopic Drill, but I guess I hid it well. He wanted me to take the lead, but I made an excuse of wanting to watch him more. It’s been almost a year. I’m gonna have to take the reins soon.

“Thanks, Doc,” I say, since calling him Jeremy is off the table. He isn’t soon-to-be family here, as he tells me daily. He is my boss, and I have to keep that boundary up. I can’t cross that line.

“See you at dinner, right?” His dark, bushy brows move with his smile, and my stomach drops. I forgot I had dinner with Ava and her family tonight. Fucking Emery, fucking with my head, and she hasn’t even been here twenty-four hours.

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