What Are The Chances (Phil-U #2)

28 The hockey player spell

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The hockey player spell

RILEY

I was prepared today. I sat facing the doorway, on guard.

Stella had been and gone. Like Grace, Stella was incredibly nice. My sessions with her were always easy, never forced. The conversation flowed like we were lifelong friends. Something told me Stella had a knack of making anyone relax around her.

I was halfway through an email when Grace walked in with Tripp. They were mid-conversation, but it tailed off when they saw me.

“Well, one of you is going to have to change,” Tripp mused.

I checked out Grace’s outfit before looking down at mine. We were both in black leggings, an oversized grey sweater, and a black vest. We even had matching athletic socks and trainers. It was kind of funny, particularly given we were heading out for breakfast after this.

I’d started speaking to Grace more and more outside of our PT catchups. When she’d suggested breakfast, I’d been excited. So long as Holloway wasn’t in tow because that may still be a bit awkward.

“Will isn’t far behind,” Tripp said. “He got caught up with Coach.”

Of course.

“How’s your back?” I checked.

“World’s better. You’re a freaking wizard, Dover.”

I chuckled as I flicked through my notes. “Your trainer mentioned your knee is giving you a bit of grief. Anything specific?”

“It gets a bit locked up when I’m tired. ”

So far the head hockey athletic trainer, Richard Donohue, had been impressed with my summaries. We’d been emailing this past week and he’d offered to send some extra athletes over to increase my experience. I was hoping it was due to my skill and not preferential treatment because of my dad’s position.

Morrison had stopped by yesterday afternoon to treat a tender ankle, and Maxwell, the goalie, was suffering from a knee contusion. An injury he’d likely got from Saturday’s game against Allentown.

Between the hockey team and Grace and Stella, I was learning more than any other practical assignment. I hated to admit it, but I was really enjoying the hockey injuries. Because of the intensity of the game, almost all of the players had something to keep tabs on. I’d been partway through writing up a rehab program for one of their players returning from a wrist fracture when Grace and Tripp arrived.

I worked through simple exercises with Tripp, noting where he signalled the pain was and specific movements that prompted it. Locked knee was an injury we were hoping to avoid, but his symptoms sounded more like minor soft tissue issues. Not too pivotal that he needed to take time off, but if we didn’t put some precautions in place then it might lead that way. And with the pointy end of the season approaching, the final one for guys like Tripp, I knew time off wasn’t an option.

Partway through Tripp’s assessment, Will ambled in. Like Tripp, Will was dressed in a hoodie, sweats and backwards cap. Though for some reason, it looked completely different on Will. Clearly I was partial.

“I have some suggestions,” I told Tripp, finishing up. “Let me check in with Richard first. I’ll email them over once he signs off.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Dover.” He scooped up his backpack and edged towards the door. “Catch you all later.”

And then there were three. And thank goodness it was remaining that way today. I didn’t trust myself alone with Will.

Grace gestured for Will to go first. “Riley and I are getting brekky after this.”

Brekky? I’m guessing that was Australian for breakfast.

Will looked at Grace curiously. “You are?”

She smiled sweetly. “Mmhmm.”

Grace followed him past the partition and leant against the bench. The partition was meant for privacy, but I knew firsthand this group didn’t operate on the same wavelength as most other people. Close didn’t describe them well enough. Grace had clearly slotted in comfortably.

Will stripped off his hoodie then edged up his athletic tee to reveal his shoulder. The taping was gone. In its place was red skin, which was cold to the touch. He’d clearly just been icing it. I felt around, noting the extra swelling that hadn’t been there last week.

“When did this happen?”

“End of the game Saturday,” Will answered. “Tanner Holbeck gave it a sweet knock.”

Freaking Tanner.

I’d purposely kept details of Will and Tripp’s niggling injuries from my brother so Tanner wouldn’t be tempted to exploit them. He wasn’t a dirty player, but he did hate Phil-U and Will specifically, so I hadn’t risked it.

“I didn’t tell him,” I told Will.

“Didn’t say you did.”

“Who’s Tanner?” Grace innocently questioned.

Will nodded to me. “I’ll let Dover answer that one.”

He was trying to bait me. It wasn’t going to work.

“He’s Allentown’s best player. Second in the league in points to your boyfriend.”

“Huh.” Grace’s forehead etched in thought. “Actually, the name sounds familiar. I think Levi has mentioned him before.”

It was still difficult picturing Levi having a serious conversation with a girl he wasn’t trying to sleep with. I mean, obviously he slept with his girlfriend. But I’d never seen him interact with a girl beyond a flirtatious surface level.

I reached for the tape. With the excuse of a fresh knock, hopefully Grace wouldn’t ask questions.

“How did you meet Holloway?” I asked.

Keeping the conversation going with Grace was safer than talking to Will.

“Officially, in a class. We were partnered together for an assignment. Along with Ryker Richardson.”

That name was one that did unexplainable things to most girls on campus. Ryker Richardson was freaking hot. Like, poster American-boy-hot.

I whistled. “And you chose Holloway over him?”

Grace and Will chuckled, clearly in on something I wasn’t.

“That’s actually a funny story,” Grace laughed. “But yeah.” She shrugged. “What can I say? Levi was it for me.”

The hockey player spell had hooked Grace too. I knew what it was like falling into that trap, and I knew how hard it was pulling yourself out of it. Three years later and I wasn’t sure I had.