Page 14 of Pucking Around

He frowns, closing his hand around the key. “How do you know I won’t use my newfound power for evil?”

I snort, snatching the travel mug out of his hand. Of course, the one thing I forgot at Target last night was coffee. I need a fix more than I need air. I take a sip of his and instantly regret it. “Blegh—holy shit, that is so sweet.” I shove the travel mug back at him while he laughs.

“No one asked you to try it.”

Gross!Now I want sandpaper for my tongue to scrub this taste away. “What kind of psycho drinks peppermint mocha in the middle of summer?”

He just keeps laughing, leading the way towards the stairs.

“I take it back,” I call.

He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “What?”

“A guy who drinks peppermint coffee can’t be trusted with my key.” I hold out my hand. “Give it back, please.”

He just keeps walking. “Too late, Hurricane. It’s my key now. And if you think I won’t use it to go in there and rearrange your seashell collection whenever I want, then you clearly didn’t think this through.”

“I hate you,” I mutter, dropping my hand to zip my backpack.

He just grunts.

I guess this is our new friend language. Insults and grunts.

I sling the backpack on my shoulder, following behind him. His movement pulls my focus from my phone. He’s got a definite hitch in his step this morning, favoring his left leg. “Hey—are you—you’re limping. You okay?”

His shoulders stiffen and he doesn’t turn around. “Yeah, m’fine. Knee is just tight.”

I purse my lips, watching him work his way down the first set of stairs. My physical therapist alarm dings as I evaluate his posture and gait. He’s in pain. Was he limping yesterday? I don’t think so…

I gasp. “Oh god, was that from last night? Caleb, did I hurt you? You know we can take the elevator—”

“No,” he grunts again. “Leave me alone.”

Great, now you’ve pissed him off.

Apparently, it’s going to be one step forward, three steps back with this guy.

We get out to his Jeep and the first thing I notice is that he’s got the soft top on it. I’m secretly grateful. I love a windy Jeep ride as much as the next Cali girl, but I was kind of hoping to make a good impression today. And Jeep hair and sex hair make pretty much a perfect circle.

I was ready just in case. My hair is up in a styled high ponytail. Add one more thing to my missing shopping list: contact solution. I’m out, so instead of wearing itchy contacts all day, I had to opt for my glasses. They’re cute enough—thick black frames that Tess says make me look like a brunette Elle Woods.

Well, Doctor Elle, because I’m wearing a set of navy scrubs. I’m not sure what the uniform will be, but a doctor can never go wrong with scrubs.

“Any chance we have time to stop for coffee?” I say as we both get in.

“There’s coffee at the practice arena,” he replies, still acting surly. “Usually, a breakfast spread too. It’s for players, but they never eat it all, and no one cares when staff picks at it.”

As soon as the Jeep starts rolling backwards, my phone dings with a text. Scott Tyler is the newly appointed team doctor for the Rays. We talked on the phone twice the day I won the fellowship. He’s chipper and he used the word ‘cool’ a lot. A major change from stoic Doctor Halla.

DR. TYLER (8:13AM): Welcome to Jax! My kiddo has a dentist appt this am, so I’ll be in a bit later. Have Sanford take you to see Vicki. Then shadow Avery til I get in

I purse my lips, glancing over at Caleb. I’m trying to gauge his lingering level of grumpiness. He seems calm enough, sipping his gross coffee with his eyes on the road.

“Doctor Tyler just texted,” I say.

No response.

“He’s delayed this morning,” I go on. “Says you should take me to see Vicki. Who’s Vicki?”

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