Page 39 of My Pucked Up Enemy

I wasn’t. That was the problem.

I round the corner, still caught in my thoughts, and nearly walk straight into James Henderson. He stumbles back half a step, an apple halfway to his mouth.

"Whoa, Doc. You got rockets in those shoes?"

I blink, pulling myself back into the present. "Sorry, James. Just... distracted."

Ethan is right behind him, along with Parker and Alex. Great. Just what I needed. A live audience for my inner unraveling.

James gives me a crooked grin. "Let me guess. Just came from a secret meeting to psychoanalyze us all over post-it notes and herbal tea."

I smirk faintly. "Something like that."

Ethan winks. "You didn’t hear this from me, but Parker cried in the last session."

"That was a yawn," Parker mutters, deadpan.

James nudges him. "Sure it was. Real emotional yawn. We all felt it."

The banter is light, easy. And I can’t bring myself to match it.

Because then there's Alex. Quiet. Watching.

"See you, guys," I say to the group. It comes out clipped. Neutral. A little too breezy.

Alex frowns slightly, almost imperceptibly. His eyes lock on mine for a half-second longer than they should. Just long enough to say: What the hell?

I give him a tight nod and walk past, keeping my pace brisk. Not running. Just... moving.

But I feel his gaze on my back the whole way down the hall.

Back in my office, I close the door and press my hands to the edge of the desk. I exhale slowly, trying to get my pulse under control.

They're watching me now. Not just the players. The front office. HR.

And suddenly, every moment with Alex feels like a match in my hand, sparking too close to gasoline fumes.

I sink into my chair and open my laptop, but all I do is stare at the screen.

This is bullshit.

I snatch my phone off the desk and scroll until I find Derek’s number. I hesitate for maybe a second before hitting call.

“Stephens,” he answers, voice low and gravelly.

“Hey, you got a minute?” I ask, forcing my voice to stay even.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“What the hell was that with Karen from HR?” I say, the irritation thick in my voice. “That little veiled warning about ‘professional distance’? Did you know she was going to pull that?”

There’s a pause.

“Yeah,” Derek finally admits. “Karen from HR’s a little... overly enthusiastic sometimes.”

“You think?” I snap. “She basically implied my sessions are crossing a line. That they’re too ‘emotionally intense.’ Which is, by the way, the only way actual progress ever happens with this team.”

“I know, Nina.”

---