Page 76 of The Sin Bin

Grateful for the professional redirection, Lauren followed her friend toward the treatment area, their conversation shifting to medical matters with practiced ease.

The morning passed in a flurry of appointments and procedures, Lauren's attention fully engaged by her patients' needs. It was only during her lunch break, as she drove to Jax's apartment to check on the cats, that her thoughts returned to their evolving partnership.

Heading to your place now to check on the cats, she texted as she navigated through midday traffic.Need anything while I'm there?

His response came quickly:Just left physio for the ribs. Everything's fine there. Could you check if Tripod's taking the antibiotic in her food? Was struggling with it this morning.

When she arrived at Jax's apartment, Lauren found Tripod sunning herself on the windowsill while Penalty batted enthusiastically at a toy mouse beneath the coffee table. Both cats greeted her with varying degrees of enthusiasm—Penalty winding between her ankles while Tripod acknowledged her presence with a slow blink before returning to her sunbeam.

"At least someone's relaxed around here," Lauren murmured, scratching Penalty behind the ears before moving to check Tripod's food bowl.

Sure enough, the antibiotic tablet Jax had attempted to hide in the tortoiseshell's breakfast sat exposed at the bottom of the dish, the cat having eaten carefully around it.

"Clever girl," Lauren acknowledged, retrieving the pill and reaching for the treat bag she'd brought. She wrapped the medication in a soft treat designed specifically for pill administration, then approached Tripod.

"This is non-negotiable, miss," she informed the cat, who regarded her with imperious golden eyes. To Lauren's satisfaction, Tripod accepted the treat-wrapped pill without resistance. After ensuring both cats had fresh water and appropriate attention, Lauren settled on the couch to eat her own lunch.

Jax's apartment had become familiar territory over the past weeks—his minimalist yet comfortable aesthetic, the hockey memorabilia tastefully displayed rather than dominating the space, the growing collection of cat accessories that betrayed his soft heart beneath the tough exterior. She knew which cabinet held mugs, where he kept spare blankets, which chair had the best reading light.

Her gaze lingered on a framed photo she hadn't noticed before—the team celebrating a win, arms around each other's shoulders, faces flushed with victory. Jax stood slightly apart, his expression more contained than his teammates', but there was an undeniable connection evident in his posture.

On the coffee table lay a copy ofThe Hockey Newswith Jax's photo on the cover, next to a feature article titled "Evolution of the Enforcer: How Thompson Represents Hockey's Changing Guard." Lauren picked it up, flipping to the article.

She found herself engrossed in analysis of Jax's defensive statistics, quotes from coaches about his adaptation to the modern game, and—her stomach tightened—a sidebar titled "Off-Ice Mystery: Thompson's New Romance Raises Eyebrows."

The paragraph was brief but pointed: "Sources close to the team note Thompson's improved play coincides with a new relationship. The intensely private defenseman has been spotted with a local veterinarian, Dr. Lauren Mackenzie, who runs the service dog program that partners with the team. Fans have taken to social media with the hashtag #BeastAndTheBeauty, speculating about the unlikely pairing."

Lauren set the magazine down, her appetite suddenly diminished. It was one thing to know intellectually that dating a professional athlete came with public interest. It was another to see her private life dissected in print, complete with a ridiculous fairy tale hashtag.

Her phone chimed with a text from Barb:Emergency C-section on the pregnant Bernese. Could you come back early?

Lauren sighed, duty calling as it inevitably did in emergency veterinary practice.On my way, she replied, carefully relocating Penalty to a sunny spot on the couch.

As she gathered her things to leave, she hesitated, then took a photo of the magazine sidebar with her phone. She texted Jax:Tripod's antibiotic successfully administered via treat method rather than food hiding. Will show you the secret tonight. Heading back to clinic for emergency surgery. Also, apparently we're now a hashtag. #BeastAndTheBeauty? Really?She attached the photo.

His response came as she was locking his apartment door:Thanks for handling that. Good luck with the surgery. Dinner at your place after practice? I'll bring food. And yeah, sorry about the hashtag. Ignore it.

Perfect, she replied.Should be done by 7. And I'll try to ignore it, but fair warning: if anyone calls me "Beauty" to my face, I'm showing them what "Beast" really looks like.

His reply made her smile:That's my girl.

The emergency C-section required all of Lauren's focus, the Bernese's puppies arriving with complications that demanded her complete attention and expertise. Hours passed in surgical intensity, her team working seamlessly to ensure both mother and puppies survived the difficult delivery.

"Six healthy puppies," Barb announced triumphantly as they closed the final incision. "Despite that placental abruption on the fourth one. Nice save, Dr. Mackenzie."

Lauren smiled tiredly behind her surgical mask, the adrenaline of the complicated procedure beginning to fade. "Good teamwork by everyone," she acknowledged. "Let's get them settled in recovery and monitor the mother's vitals hourly overnight."

It was nearly 7:30 by the time Lauren finished her notes and post-operative instructions, fatigue settling into her shoulders after the intense surgical focus. Stepping into her office to gather her things, she was surprised to find a paper bag from her favorite deli sitting on her desk alongside a to-go cup of tea that still steamed gently.

"Your hockey player dropped those off about twenty minutes ago," Kim, the receptionist, informed her with a knowing smile. "Said to tell you he'd wait at your place since you were still in surgery."

"Thanks, Kim," she managed, surprisingly touched by his simple consideration.

"He seems nice," the receptionist added with deliberate casualness. "Very polite. Called me 'ma'am' and everything."

Lauren smiled, recognizing the unsubtle fishing for confirmation about her relationship status. The clinic staff had been respectfully curious since the service dog interview had aired, but no one had directly asked about her connection to the Chill's enforcer.

"He is nice," she acknowledged simply, offering neither denial nor detailed confirmation.

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