Page 94 of Pucking Around

I snort, rolling my eyes at his cheesy line.

Fiona glances around, confused. “No, umm—I mean, it’s clear skies today. Rain this weekend though—”

“It’s okay, Fiona,” I say. “He’s just teasing you. He’s my ride.”

“Ohhh,” she says with a little laugh. “Are you both players then?”

“He is,” says Caleb, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at Jake.

“Wow. You know, Doctor Price was such a great addition to our program.” she says. “You’re really lucky to have her.”

“Oh, we know,” Jake calls with a smile.

“We’re so grateful this could work out,” she adds, turning to me. “Maybe we could do it again next semester?”

“Sure,” I reply. It’s a cool program, offering college students hands-on experience they wouldn’t expect to see until residency.

While we say our goodbyes, Jake slips out of the Jeep and takes the bags, loading them into the back. Then he opens my car door, letting me slide in the back seat. As soon as Fiona is safely back inside, Caleb cranks the Jeep into gear and we’re off.

“So, party at Rip’s, huh?” I call over the roar of the wind and the radio.

“Yep!” Jake shouts. “It’s cheat day and I wanna eat my weight in sliders and fries!”

As we pullup to the big, sprawling beach bar, I sense a mood shift in Jake.

“Wait—what day is it today?” he says, his hand frozen on the strap of his seatbelt.

“Thursday,” I reply. We’ll be on the road again tomorrow for a game. “Why?”

“Oh…shit,” he mutters. He glances over at Cay. “Man, don’t do this. I swear I learned my lesson. You said you forgave me.”

Meanwhile, Caleb just smiles, casually putting the Jeep in park. “I did. But sometimes we need a reminder before the lesson can really sink in.”

Jake’s eyes go wide. “What do I have to do to make this stop?”

“What am I missing?” I say, popping my head between the seats. “Why are you two being weird?”

Caleb smirks. “It’s nothing, Hurricane. Jake here is just learning an important lesson in memorizing the days of the week.”

On that cryptic note, both guys slip out of the Jeep, their doors slamming shut in unison. I have no choice but to follow after them.

Live music floats through the autumn beachy air. A crowd of people is spread out across the many umbrella-clad tables. There’s a whole building of inside seating, but the charm of Rip’s is the outdoor bar area. People can walk up right off the beach and order food and drinks. Surfers, families with sandy-faced kids, couples on an evening stroll.

Nestled in its own cabana near the bar is a covered stage. A band is all set up playing cover music. As we turn the corner, I freeze. The woman at the mic singing this particular rendition of Shania Twain’s “That Don’t Impress Me Much” is none other than the Rays’ own Shelby O’Sullivan.

I gasp, eyes wide with excitement, as I snatch at Jake’s arm. “Wait—is it karaoke night?”

He sighs, looking nothing like his usually perky self. “Yep. And it was nice knowing you, Seattle.”

“What—”

I follow after him, my words cut off as the rest of the team notices us and hails us over. We make a huge show of cheering for Shelby as she finishes. Then she comes prancing back over to sit on Sully’s lap.

The Rays have snagged a few tables together, and there’s already a wide spread of salads, wings, fried pickles, and something I think might be gator tail bites. Jake and I settle down at the free end of Sully and Shelby’s table, while Caleb goes to shake hands with Novy and Langley.

“Hey, Doc!” Shelby calls to me with a wave. “You look like you came straight from work.”

“Yeah, I was stuck doing a training event downtown,” I explain, snatching a fried pickle out of the basket. “The guys picked me up on the way over.”

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