Page 5 of Down to Puck

“That’s my secret. I don’t manage. I just stay focused on the team,” he says as I follow him inside.

The meeting room is on the first floor, which I’m glad about. I don’t really feel up to climbing the stairs.

The team is already assembled and waiting for us. Parker Knight, the rookie forward, is sitting in one of the plush leather chairs near the window. Beside him, goalie Erik Nordstrom is leaning casually against a wall, scrolling through his phone. Kai has bypassed the chairs altogether, opting to sit on the edge of Coach Morgan’s desk.

Several of the guys are wearing sunglasses and drinking from large cups of coffee — hungover from their nightly bar crawl. I haven’t had a drop, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling hungover, the bright lights of the office stabbing into my eye like an ice pick.

“So as you can see, the preliminary results look good. But I’m concerned. Dakota noted he was slow at times, sluggish.” I recognize her voice first. “There are definite signs of brain fog. I want to get another X-ray, and then do a full workup. I’ve already requested both an MRI and a CT—”

She stops when the door opens, spinning to watch us walk in.

My Angel.

She’s real. And she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. That low, smoky voice has been living in my head for days. Rich and husky, like she’s always on the verge of a wicked laugh.

“Ah, Mister Stone,” Coach’s voice drips sarcasm. “How kind of you to join us. Take a seat.”

I nod, but can’t tear my eyes away from the woman standing at the front of the room. She’s short, with long black hair and expressive eyes the color of dark coffee. The lab coat and jeans she’s wearing do nothing to hide the compact curves underneath. Her full mouth tilts up into a smile as I make my way into the room.

“Sorry,” I squeeze in between Erik and Park. “I just found out about this meeting, or I would have been here earlier.”

Sandwiched between them, I feel a little like a pebble nestled among boulders. But everyone on the team has only ever shown me respect. It’s just one of the reasons I love playing with these guys.

I hate feeling like I’m letting them down.

“Emerson,” My Angel— Yasmín— nods at me. “I need you to come in for some more testing before I can clear you to play again. You’re still showing signs of traumatic brain injury.”

I blink, then hold one hand over my eye.

“What?” I blow out a breath, keeping my voice neutral. “You mean no one else here feels like someone is trying to push their brain out of their eye socket from the inside?”

There are a few sympathetic chuckles from the more hungover members of the squad, but Yasmín doesn’t laugh. If anything, she looks more concerned now.

“They have an excuse.” She puts her hands on her hips, and it takes a herculean effort not to watch the way it makes her cleavage bounce. “I’m going to assume you weren’t out celebrating all night?”

I shake my head, gritting my teeth against the pain.

“No, doc. I’ve been following orders.” I hold up my hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll follow these too. Run all the tests you need. I’m sick of feeling like crap and ready to get back on the ice.”

Coach Morgan clears his throat, interrupting Yasmín before she can respond. She glances at him and a look of affection crosses her face. If I wasn’t studying her so intensely, I might have missed it.

“Dr. Rashidi, why don’t you take Emerson over to get those scans now?” Coach’s voice is mild.

She nods.

“Sure thing. Can I get Skylar in there too? I really want to start therapy as soon as possible.” Yasmín smiles warmly at him.

Coach Morgan chuckles, shaking his head.

“Ask her yourself, Yas. You know my answer will always be yes when it comes to you girls,” Coach says.

That explains it then.

“Go on, you two. Everyone else, hang back. We’ve got to talk about some stuff,” Coach Morgan says, glancing at the rest of the team.

I sigh.

“You mean you need to talk about who you’re going to replace me with until I get better.” I laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “It’s alright. I’m not a kid. I don’t need you walking on eggshells around me. For what it’s worth, I think it’s time for Parker to suit up.”

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