Page 34 of Check & Chase
“Bad luck,” she counters, but there’s no real bite to her words.
“You wound me, Blondie.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Never.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t push it further; instead, she guides me through the day’s exercises. There’s a different quality to our interaction now—less tension, more understanding. We both carry scars from the ice, though mine are nowhere near as severe as hers.
By the end of the session, my knee aches, but it’s the good kind of ache. Emma seems satisfied with my progress, making notes on her clipboard as I catch my breath.
“You did well today,” she notes, surprising me with the praise. “Your range of motion is improving, and the stability exercises are showing results.”
“Does that mean I can play tonight?”
She gives me a look that could freeze hell. “Not a chance. But if you continue at this rate, you might be ready for light skating sooner than the initial estimate.”
That’s something, at least. “So, what? Five weeks?”
“Let’s take it day by day.” She begins packing up her equipment. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Actually, I won’t be here tomorrow morning. I’ll be recovering from watching the game tonight. Emotional trauma and all that.”
Emma nods. “Monday, then.”
“Are you watching the game tonight?”
She looks up. “I hadn’t planned to.”
“You should. Good opportunity to see how the Wolves play. Know thy enemy and all that.”
“The Wolves aren’t my enemy, Chase. My brother’s the captain, remember?”
“Right.” I’d almost forgotten that particular complication. “So, who are you rooting for tonight? Bears or Wolves?”
Emma shrugs, zipping up her bag. “I’m neutral.”
“Bullshit.” I grin at her startled expression. “No one’s neutral in a Bears-Wolves matchup.”
“Fine,” she concedes. “I might be slightly biased toward the team my brother’s played on for five years.”
“Traitor.”
“I thought we established I’m not a Bears fan.”
“You work for us now,” I remind her. “That means you have to root for us, at least silently, in the privacy of your own home.”
She shakes her head, but I catch the ghost of a smile. “I should go. I have other patients.”
“Less charming ones, I bet.”
“Less annoying ones, definitely.”
I clutch my chest in mock offense. “You’re breaking my heart here, Blondie.”
“Your heart’s fine. It’s your MCL that’s the problem.” She heads for the door, then pauses. “Good luck to your team tonight. I’m sure they’ll manage without you.”
“Wow. Twisting the knife.”
