Matter of Fact: A Hockey Romance (The Hart Series Book 7)

by M. E. Carter

  Pulling my gloves back on, I get back on the line and continue working on my shot. Every twinge of pain I feel, every tweak, and his words come back to me.

  “If it’s surgical at least you have a shot.”

  Thwack!

  It’s your choice on how you want to handle this.

  Thwack!

  If you don’t stop being a pussy and get this taken care of, I guarantee your career is over.

  Thwack!

  I run out of pucks the same time I run out of steam. I hate that he’s right. I’m being a pussy because I’m scared of the results. I feel like climbing in that machine is the athletic equivalent of walking to my own execution. But I can’t keep going like this. Even getting good sleep is harder since I’m waking up to the pain more and no amount of ibuprofen is taking the edge off anymore.

  Resigned and finally, with enough nerve, I leave the arena and head to the locker room. If I know Coach, Harry is probably waiting for me already.

  • • •

  Just like I thought, Harry had already called the orthopedic surgeon the team has on staff. By eight in the morning, I was in the lobby of his office, waiting to be called. By nine, it was all over.

  Now I’m lying on the examination table, legs dangling over the side, fingers laced together on my chest as I wait for the results and try not to worry what direction my life is about to take. Perks of the job—results that take everyone else a day to get back takes us a couple of hours tops.

  My eyes closed, I concentrate on my breathing and let my thoughts drift to Ellery. Except for being worried about my shoulder, I haven’t stopped thinking about her since the night we met. She looked so sad when she walked in, but it was quickly replaced with this bubbly personality that drew me in. Yes, she was heading towards hammered, but it was more than that.

  She had this innocence about her. Maybe it was a bit of naivete and lack of experience, too. But also a bit like she prefers to see the good things in life. Obviously, living with rose-colored glasses on didn’t help with her boyfriend situation. That guy sounds like a dick. But on her it was refreshing. She isn’t jaded by the world. I liked it.

  I also liked her candor when she got a little alcohol in her. Even thinking about how she said my name makes me laugh to myself.

  “Liiiiiiiam.”

  She even wrote it in a text. A text I kept but haven’t responded to yet. I will. I’m just waiting for her to settle into her newfound singleness first. At least that’s the excuse I’m giving myself. Really, I’m hoping to run into her at the bar again so I can get to know her better before full out pursuing her.

  I hear the door open and Dr. Fantasma chuckle.

  “Those beds are quite comfortable in a pinch, aren’t they?”

  Sitting up, I run my hand down my face. “I’ve slept on worse.”

  “You’re reminding me of my residency,” he says as he quickly washes his hands. In his early fifties but still sporting a full head of dark hair, Dr. Fantasma has the confidence of a man who knows he’s good at his job. A little on the quirky side, he’s quick with his assessments and always has a plan of action ready. That’s probably why the team uses him for anything orthopedic. “Even an empty exam table is like sleeping on a cloud when you’re in the middle of back-to-back twenty-four-hour shifts.”

  “I can imagine.”

  The good doctor pulls up a chair and sits in front of a computer off to the side. “Don’t even try. I’m glad those days are over. I wouldn’t want to pull a shift like that at this age. Probably why you don’t see many older people tackling medical school. The residency would kill them.”

  Dr. Fantasma clicks a few keys on the keyboard in front of him and the monitor lights up. A few more clicks and what appears to be my scans show up.

  “Hmmm,” he says as he looks at them, clicking through multiple screens and zooming in and out while I impatiently wait for his conclusion about my fate.

  My foot begins to wiggle without my permission from the pent-up energy I feel. He could send me off to some physical therapy or he could tell me to hang up my skates. His face is so unexpressive I have absolutely no idea what he’s going to say.

  Picking up a pen, he points at a spot on the screen. “Do you see this part right here?”

  “That white spot? Yeah.”

  “Looks like you have an acromioclavicular joint injury.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. AC injuries are common in my chosen profession, so I’ve seen the treatments done on other people before. I’ve just never felt one before so I assumed it was a rotator cuff which is much more challenging. This is good news. It’s really good.

  “So what—I get a referral to PT or something?”

  “Mmmm…”

  The smile falls from my face. I don’t like the tone in that “mmm.”

  He clicks to another screen and leans in closer. “It’s not just an injury, Liam. It’s a pretty significant tear.”

  “What does that mean? I’m benched for a couple of weeks?”

  Dr. Fantasma swivels the chair around and interlaces his fingers, placing them on one crossed knee. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re going to have to fix it surgically.”

  “Shit.” My head drops as disappointment runs through me. Surgery means being out for weeks.

  “It’s not all bad,” Dr. Fantasma says in his normal even tone. “It’s a relatively easy surgery so you won’t have to stay in the hospital. In and out the same day.”

  “But how long until I’m back on the ice.”

  “Oh, well that’s a different story.” He says it like he forgot about that part. Odd coming from the team orthopedic surgeon, but he is one of the best so I guess bedside manner isn’t a big deal. “Obviously, we’ll know more after surgery but with a tear this size, I’m guesstimating about twelve weeks.”

  My jaw drops. “Twelve weeks? There’s no way I can be out that long.”

  He bobbles his head and I know whatever he’s about to say isn’t good. “That’s assuming all goes well and you follow all the instructions carefully. Push it too quickly and we’ll be back where we started. One body-check, one fall on that shoulder, and you’ll never be the same again.”

  I run my hand down my face, disappointment coursing through me. How will I get back up to speed if I’m out for several months? The only saving grace is we’re still three months away from the beginning of the season, but still. That doesn’t give me much time to get back into shape without missing the whole season.

  “Okay,” I finally concede. “Let’s just get me into physical therapy as soon as possible. I’ll be fine pushing through the post-surgery pain. Maybe I’ll get lucky and will be cleared to play by the start of the season.”

  Dr. Fantasma picks up a folded sheet of paper and begins reading through it. “Sounds like a solid plan. Now let’s get your surgery scheduled so we can get this ball rolling.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ellery

  The same dark SUVs are in the parking lot as I pull in again. Only this time there’s no rain forcing me here. I’m meeting some old friends.

  Even as I exit the car, I can’t help feeling a bit excited. Girls don’t usually include me in their get-togethers. They never have. Actually, boys never do either. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not as experienced as them in, well, anything, or if there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I hold myself back. Like I just don’t put in enough reciprocal effort myself to keep a relationship going thinking maybe they don’t really want me there. But that is all about to change.

  I always liked Lauren. She was bold and confident. She never treated me like an oddball. I’m excited to get to know her again and hope we hit it off. I wouldn’t mind being brought back into her fold. Her entire group of friends was always so loyal to each other. I’ve always wanted to be cared for like that.

  Pulling open the door, I walk through and glance around the room. I barely spot Lauren before my eyes dart away and lock on the one person I
wasn’t expecting to see but should have—Liam.

  His gaze locks on mine and I’m frozen in place, not sure what to do with myself. Do I approach him and apologize for my inappropriate behavior? Do I ignore him, knowing he probably never wants to speak to me again? I have no idea what the best course of action is for this situation.

  A female voice cuts through my thoughts and the decision is made for me.

  “Ellery!” Lauren squeals and runs over, enveloping me in a huge hug. It’s completely unexpected but not at all unwelcome as I hug her back. “How are you?” She pulls back and runs a lock of my hair through her fingers. “Ohmygod your hair!”

  I feel myself blush at my screw-up. “It’s really bad, isn’t it?”

  Her eyes widen temporarily. “Bad? No way. It’s gorgeous!”

  Relief runs through me now that she’s confirmed I was right and, in some circles, this is considered trendy. When I spouted that mess off to Kevin I wasn’t totally sure I knew what I was talking about. But Lauren doesn’t mince words. She would tell me if the color looked terrible.

  Lacing her arm through mine, she drags me to the bar where Kiersten is pouring drinks alongside a younger blonde woman.

  “I’m so glad you said that,” I admit, feeling my nerves settle as I talk to my old friend. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other and she’s acting like nothing has changed between us. “I was trying for blonde and I don’t know if I messed up the bleach or something, but this is what happened.”

  We slide onto the stools as we chat.

  “You did that at home on accident?” Lauren runs her fingers through my hair again. “People pay good money for that color these days.”

  I scrunch my nose. “You don’t think it looks weird?”

  “Not at all.”

  Kiersten approaches, a smile on her face. “I’m so glad you made it, Ellery. You look great. You drinking again tonight?”

  I feel a blush creep up my face at the reminder of what happened last time I was here.

  “Maybe I need to stick with soft drinks this time since I am obviously a lightweight.”

  She gives me an amused look. “You sure? You are actually a really fun drunk. Not everyone is, and I would know.”

  I nod. “I’m sure. Getting my car back the next morning before work was a pain. I’d rather avoid that again if I can.”

  “Sure thing.” Kiersten spouts off all my options and I order a Dr. Pepper, because you can’t reside in Texas and not drink it regularly. It’s practically a requirement to live here.

  Lauren orders a Shiner, another Texas staple, and turns back to me. “You know what would make you feel better about your hair?”

  “If I rewound the clock and talked myself out of trying something new?”

  She giggles and slaps my leg lightly. “No. You need makeup that matches.”

  Makeup that matches? What does that even mean? Purple eyeshadow?

  I don’t have to ask the question. She can see the confusion written all over my face.

  “Your hair is on point but your makeup just needs a little funk to it.”

  “I still have no idea what that means.”

  “Kiersten,” Lauren says just as our bartending friend drops off our drinks. “Don’t you think Ellery could use a bit of an update on her makeup to pull this whole style together?”

  Kiersten cocks her head and looks at me critically for a second. “A winged eyeliner would look fabulous on you.”

  “You mean with the…” my hands wave around my face as I try to describe what I’m thinking but being too flustered to succeed. “… the wingy and the… the black and the…”

  Both my friends, laugh. Or are they acquaintances at this point? Regardless, they both start laughing at how flabbergasted I am.

  “Relax.” Lauren puts her hand on my forearm, probably trying to calm me down. “We’ll do a makeover this weekend. It’ll be fun.”

  “Nooooooo, nonononono.” I take a quick sip of my drink hoping to relieve my suddenly dry mouth. “My office is very conservative. They wouldn’t go for it at all.”

  Lauren cocks her head at me. “Lavender hair is okay but a little eyeliner is too much?”

  I can feel my eyes widen as I realize she’s right. “Because the hair was an accident?” I squeak out.

  “I like her,” Kiersten says to Lauren. “I forgot how funny she is. Where’s Annika anyway?”

  “She said she wasn’t feeling well. That’s probably code for Jaxon is home and they need some alone time.” The two of them laugh at a joke I don’t quite understand. I get the gist of it, but I’m pretty sure I’m missing something that makes the quip funny.

  Just then, the blonde bartender sets a tray in front of Kiersten and begins placing drinks on it. “Sorry to break up girls’ night but the table full of gentlemen is getting thirsty.”

  Without skipping a beat, Kiersten slides under the bar and comes out on our side. “Duty calls, ladies. Let Nicole know if you need anything if I’m not back for a while.” She balances the now full tray on one shoulder, a very impressive feat, and walks away.

  “I can’t believe you guys have stayed friends all these years.” If I sound like I’m in awe, it’s because I am. I’ve never had a friendship last after whatever event threw us together in the first place was over. Unless you count Kevin and at this point, I’m not sure I can anymore.

  Lauren shrugs like it’s no big deal. “She’s my person. Well, Heath is my person. But Kiersten is a close second. Plus, I have to stick around for Carson. He’s the best.”

  “Is that the baby?”

  She nods, an adoring smile on her face. “He’s not a baby anymore. That boy is going into first grade this coming year and is already doing triple-digit addition.”

  I don’t know what that means in relationship to his age, but I pretend to be impressed anyway.

  “It’s so great that you guys have each other.”

  Lauren leans so far onto the counter, she’s practically laying on it, resting her chin on her arm. “You don’t have that?”

  I glance down at my drink, suddenly ashamed to make eye contact. “I thought I did. Turns out I was the friend but I didn’t actually have a friend.”

  “Kevin, huh?”

  She says it so gently, it almost hurts worse than if she’d just come out and say she thinks he’s a jerk and she’s always hated him or something.

  “That’s what happened to my hair. I guess it was like a post-break-up decision to go blonde. I don’t really understand why I did it.”

  “Same reason we all do it when our heart is bleeding. It gives us some distance from the life we had and pushes us to the life we’re moving toward.”

  I fidget with my straw, thinking about what she said. It’s going to take a heck of a lot more than a new hair color to get enough distance from that situation.

  Lauren nudges my shoulder. “Did it work? The radical change?”

  I shake my head. “Not even close.”

  She spins my stool so I’m forced to face her. “Then let me do your makeup. It’ll be fun to feel like a new person for the day. We can do it Saturday afternoon and then come back here to try it out and see what total strangers think.”

  I huff a laugh. “That’s what I’m supposed to be doing now? Caring what strangers think?”

  “You know what I mean.” She pulls up an app on her phone and begins scrolling. “I’m not talking about drag makeup. Just something complementary to your new hair. Something like this.”

  She turns the phone to show me a picture. The woman, probably a model, looks glamourous with a nude lip and smoky eye. Her hair color is similar to mine, although obviously done by a professional. Even I have to admit, she looks amazing.

  Taking the phone from Lauren, I enlarge the picture to get a better look at some of the detail. “I’m not that good with makeup. You really think I can do this?”

  “Absolutely. You’ll be stunning.”

  “I think she looks beautiful exa
ctly as she is.”

  My eyes widen at the deep voice behind me.

  Liam.

  I may have only met him once, and I may have been inebriated, but I’ll never forget the deep timbre of his voice.

  Lauren doesn’t even bother trying to hide her reaction to his approach, making sure I’m fully aware that she approves of this turn of events.

  Grabbing her beer, she slides off the stool and lies through her teeth. “I think I hear Kiersten calling me. I’ll see you two later.”

  I watch as she saunters off, determined to avoid eye contact with the man I made a fool out of myself in front of the other day. But then he leans in and whispers in my ear.

  “I really like your hair.”

  My head moves before I can stop it, and I’m suddenly looking into his eyes, excited to see approval in them.

  “You do?”

  He nods. “It’s different than before, but you kind of look like a fairy.”

  “I’m honestly not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

  He shrugs. “It’s just a thing. But for some reason, it seems to suit you.” Reaching over, he pulls a lock through his fingers. “And I really like it out of that bun thingy.”

  “You do?” I whisper, captivated by his voice, his words. Even his scent. He smells like soap and mint and ice. Which doesn’t make sense to me at all, but it’s true. He reminds me of that fresh smell after it snows. I’ve only experienced it once when I went skiing but I’ll never forget that scent.

  Putting some distance between us, he takes a deep breath and I wonder if he’s as affected by me as I am by him. Doubtful. I’m Ellery McIlroy. I don’t attract super-hot men. I don’t attract any men, actually. Yet here he is so that has to mean something, right?

  “I like that you’re allowing yourself to let loose a little. Based on our conversation the other night, I don’t think you do that enough.”

  I blush, reminded of how forward I was with him. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m not usually so flirty.”