Page 90 of Playing the Pucking Game
“Just so you know, I’ve never doubted you. We’re lucky to have you working with us, and if anyone, I don’t care how high up their position is, says anything that makes you question your position or your worth, you tell me.”
“Linc,” I warn.
“I’m serious, little P. You deserve this. You’ve worked your ass off, and you’re better than any other trainer I’ve ever worked with.”
“It’s been four days.”
“Yeah,” I muse, but honestly, she’s been taking care of me for much longer than that. From the day she decided to focus on becoming an athletic trainer, she’s been there in the background asking questions, practicing her technique, and soaking up as much information as she could.
It’s been an honor to watch her excel in her field. I never had any doubt that she’d make it. She was destined for this, and I can’t wait to see how far she goes.
“You’re going to get us to the Cup finals this year, Donnelly.”
“Shut up. You guys are going to do that.”
“We can’t if we’re injured,” I counter.
She smiles again, her eyes dropping to her lap. “It’s going to be a great second half of the season.”
“It is.”
Silence falls between us. Only our breaths and the distant whirr of the air conditioning can be heard as we lose ourselves in our thoughts.
“Parker?”
She looks up, her eyes colliding with mine. “Yeah?”
“What are you?—”
“Knock, knock, knock,” a voice booms before Monroe bounds into the room like an overexcited Labrador. “I come bearing gifts,” he says with a shit-eating grin on his face and a takeout coffee tray in his hand. “Oh shit,” he gasps when his eyes land on me. “I didn’t know you’d be here, Storm.”
“Good to see you too,” I mutter under my breath.
“I didn’t know what your poison was, so I called Casey. She told me to get a venti skinny iced latte with a caramel shot. I hope that’s right.”
“Are you fucking blushing?” I balk when his cheeks brighten.
“Fuck you, Storm. What did you bring with you, other than your shitty attitude?”
“Oh shit, someone is feeling brave.”
“Enough, you two,” Parker says as she climbs to her feet. “Thank you, Hayden. That’s really thoughtful of you.”
“Kiss ass,” I mutter, also getting to my feet.
“Ignore him. He’s leaving.”
“And I thought we were bonding there for a moment.”
“I’ve known you since I was ten. I think we’re long past that, Storm.”
“Nine.”
“W-what?”
“I’ve known you since you were nine,” I correct.
I remember the day as if it were yesterday.
