Page 18 of Made For Me

“I’ll call you later,” I say and instead of walking out right away, I take one more look at her and then leave.

I get into the car and make my way over to the rink, the whole time my head is still on Julia. I park the car at the same time Cooper parks his truck. I get out and look over and see the passenger door open and Dylan steps out. Michael gets out of the back door and I just shake my head.

“It’s like a car of clowns.” I clap my hands. “Is Wilson in there?” I move my head to the side and wonder if the other door will open.

“Wow,” Cooper says, walking around the car and he looks at me. “You look like proper shit.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Is that so?”

“You look like Thor on a bender,” Dylan declares and we turn to walk into the arena.

“I was on shift at the hospital,” I remind them.

“Oh, did you bring home a nurse,” Michael says, “to kiss your boo-boo?” I push his shoulder and he smashes into the wall.

“You’re the only one who gets a boo-boo that needs to be kissed,” I say, and the three of them head into the locker room while I go down the hall toward my office. I toss my keys on the desk and then walk over to the treatment room.

“Okay,” I say, walking in and seeing Tristan sitting on one of the examination tables. He’s out of his hockey gear and in team shorts and a shirt. “Who has the big boo-boo?” I joke with him. Tristan is one of the rookies on the team, drafted by Dallas two years ago, he just started playing with the team this year. “So, tell me what happened.” I walk over to the sink and wash my hands.

“I was on the ice, just going around in a circle, and then it’s like something pulled in the back of my leg,” he explains and I sit down on the little rolling chair.

“Straighten your leg,” I urge him and he winces. “Was this the leg that got slashed the last time?” I ask him as I touch his knee and I’m happy he isn’t wincing. I move my hand to the back of his leg and then he yelps. “Lie on your stomach.” He gets up and he lies down and I see the big bruise on the back of his leg. “You have a big bruise.” I touch around the big purple mark. “My guess is you have a pulled hamstring.”

“Fuck,” Tristan curses. “What does that mean?”

“It means, depending on the next couple of days, you can be out three weeks or you can be out three months,” I say and his head whips around.

“Are you fucking with me, Doc?” he asks and I have to laugh.

“I never fuck about injuries or dates. I’m going to call Bruno and we can go over exercises.”

“This means I can’t play tonight,” he pouts, sitting down.

“This means you can definitely not play tonight,” I confirm and he just puts his head back.

“I was on a points streak,” he groans in frustration.

“If I send you on the ice like this, you’ll last maybe a shift,” I say. “And you might give out and then they can score on us and it’ll all be your fault.”

“Wow, talk about kicking someone when they are down.” He gets up. “You didn’t even try to give me a pep talk.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Just keeping it real,” I say and Tristan walks from the room. I take my phone out of my back pocket and text Bruno, the team trainer. As soon as I’m done, I pull up Julia’s number.

Me: Hey, just checking in.

I press send and then wonder if I should have called her instead.

Me: How you doing?

“Good God.” I shake my head. “You sound so stupid.”

I look down at the phone, seeing the gray bubble pop up.

Julia: Leaving the hospital in the Uber, headed to work.

My heart skips a beat and my hands get sweaty. I look around to see if anyone notices what is going on, not sure I could explain it.

CHAPTER11

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