Page 13 of Hat Trick Daddies

Kenzie adjusts the macaw on her arm and grins at me. “You’re not off the hook, though. You owe me a drink for almost traumatizing poor Finn here.”

“Deal,” I say, relaxing slightly. “Though I’m not sure Finn’s going to forgive me anytime soon.”

Kenzie chuckles. “He’ll come around. But in the meantime, you should come out with me tonight. There’s a local hangout, Surf’s Up. Ever been?”

I shake my head. “What’s Surf’s Up?”

Her grin widens. “It’s this beach-themed bar run by a couple of local gay guys who love hockey. They do player discounts, karaoke nights, and all kinds of fun events. It’s a bit ridiculous, but that’s part of the charm.”

“Sounds like a blast.”

“You’ll love it, be there at eight. First round’s on me.”

“All right,” I agree, grinning back.

Kenzie gives me a quick wave as she heads off down the hallway, the macaw perched regally on her arm. I adjust my bag, still feeling a little flustered but glad I’d run into her, literally.

After grabbing a quick lunch in the breakroom, I head back toward my office, feeling slightly more grounded.

The quiet halls are a welcome reprieve from the noise and chaos of the morning, but the peace doesn’t last long.

I hear footsteps behind me, followed by a muttered curse. Turning, I spot Nick Porter coming down the hallway, still in skates, with his twin Tyler supporting him.

“Nick, are you—” My words cut off as I notice the blood soaking through the towel wrapped around his hand.

“Doc,” Nick says, his voice tight with pain, “I think we’ve got a situation.”

Tyler grins despite the blood. “Don’t worry, Doc Perry. He’s not dying. Just bleeding a little.”

Nick shoots his brother a glare. “It’s not just a little.”

I gesture toward my office, stepping quickly to open the door. “Come on in. Let’s take a look.”

They shuffle inside, and Nick carefully sits down in the chair I motion to, still cradling his injured hand.

“You’re lucky you found me and not Dr. Martin,” I say, trying to keep my tone light as I grab gloves and supplies.

“No kidding,” Nick mutters. “We figured he’d just bite our heads off and send us back to practice.”

I roll my eyes, already focusing on unwinding the towel from Nick’s hand. “All right, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

In my office, Nick sits in the chair, his injured hand resting on a sterile pad. I put on gloves and start cleaning the wound, careful and methodical, while Tyler leans casually against the doorframe, watching with a mischievous grin.

“Try not to screw it up, Doc,” Nick teases, wincing slightly as I dab antiseptic on the cut.

“Maybe if you’d stop moving…” I reply, raising an eyebrow.

Tyler chuckles. “She’s got you there, Nick. Honestly, you’re lucky she’s not Doc Martin. He’d probably stitch you up with fishing line.”

“Or duct tape,” Nick mutters, shooting his brother a glare.

As I begin stitching the wound, Tyler leans closer. “So, Doc,” he says, his tone playful, “got a boyfriend?”

I blink, my hands pausing for a fraction of a second before resuming. “No, I don’t,” I say, focusing on the needle and thread.

Nick smirks. “Good to know.”

Tyler grins. “You know, there are plenty of great spots in the city to go out. If you need a tour guide, we’re available.”

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