Hockey players and tradition. They weren’t talking about a ridiculous playoff beard. It was his health, and she hated that he wasn’t taking it seriously. What she hated even more was that she cared that he wasn’t taking it seriously.

“Can I take you home now, or do they need more x-rays?”

“I think they are done prodding me. For now. I just need to stop by and talk to my coach on the way out.”

She nodded, the guilt still eating her alive. A few inches higher and she would have ruined his career.

“Stop it.”

Henrik jumped off the table and grabbed her chin, pulling it around to look up at him. “What?” She instantly darted her eyes back toward the door. Anywhere but at him.

“You’re fretting.” He smiled. “I can see it in your eyes. Stop it.”

How could he read her so easily?

“What if I just ruined your season? The team—”

“The team can survive one game without me,” he interrupted, “so stop worrying. Look on the bright side. At least we’ll have the apartment to ourselves tonight.”

She shot him a look.

“For strictly friend-type activities,” he added. “I hear Scrabble is super fun. Especially with your clothes on.”

She pushed him away to keep from laughing. He made her laugh too easily. “You actually believe Drew will still go to the game and leave us there alone?”

“Of course not.” He grinned. “I meant my apartment. He doesn’t have a key to my apartment. He can’t get in if I don’t let him.”

She smirked, trying not to laugh at the vision he suggested. Drew would beat the door down. Literally. “I would like to see that.”

He grabbed his coat off the examination table and threw his arm around her shoulder. “I’m his big brother. He’s not going to have a choice.”

***

That afternoon, Leila lay on her bed resting while optimistically searching through job listings in the city. Biology majors weren’t exactly in high demand. She lucked into her research assistant job in Newark. She needed something closer to her family, though. Something closer to home. Her phone beeped next to her, and bile rose in her throat. It was probably Derek again.

He’d called three times in the last week. She hadn’t told Henrik that part. He didn’t need to know. He was already too involved, and it would only make it worse. She needed a new number.

She eased over to peek at the screen, pleasantly surprised to see it was only Austin, until she read the message.

Austin: My apartment. Now.

 

She reluctantly sat up, having a sneaking suspicion what her brother wanted to talk to her about. His practice would have ended a couple hours ago, which meant he knew Henrik wouldn’t be playing in tonight’s game. Henrik might be Drew’s big brother, but she was still Austin’s little sister, and her brother would have something to say about the opportunity Henrik’s injury would provide.

She made her way down the hall and let herself into their apartment. Austin and Henrik sat on the couch, facing each other. Austin looked rather determined, while Henrik just looked guilty. “What’s up?” she asked as casually as possible.

Austin turned to Henrik, waiting expectantly.

“It has been brought to my attention,” Henrik began, shooting a sideways look at his best friend, “that a good, responsible teammate would go to the game tonight, and support his team even if he was on injured reserve.”

Leila looked between the two friends, wondering what kind of conversation they’d had before Austin texted her. She’d never seen them look uncomfortable around each other. “Even if you can barely see to watch the game?” she clarified.

Without looking at Austin, Henrik nodded. “Apparently.”

She gave her brother a knowing look, which implied that she didn’t appreciate his meddling. She got enough of that from Drew.

“It has nothing to do with you,” he stated with an unconvincing grunt.

Shit. Austin was suspicious.

Henrik made a face. A deer in headlights look. Like a man on death row. Austin didn’t notice. He just continued to defend himself. “Henrik here has been pushing for all of us to up our game lately, take our responsibilities more seriously. I merely pointed out that maybe he should practice what he preaches.”

“I only said maybe we shouldn’t go out so much. A little extra rest never hurt anybody,” he complained.

Austin shot him another look. “You stick to your story, and I’ll stick to mine.” He got up and started walking toward his room. “I’m going to go rest up for my game tonight, because, you know, that’s what we do around here now.”

Henrik didn’t respond. He just let his friend walk out. Leila waited until Austin slammed the door to his room. “Did I miss something?”

“Your brother being a pain in my ass? No, I’m pretty sure you caught the full end of it.”

“What was all that stuff about resting?”

Henrik shrugged. “Your brother is overreacting.”

Leila crossed her arms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He stood and placed his hand on the small of her back. “Look, I’d rather not discuss it with him in the apartment.”

“Do you think he knows?” she whispered. “About us?”

“No. Trust me, you’d know if he did.”

“How?”

He scooted her through the door. “Because it’d make the news.”

She rolled her eyes at him as he pulled the door shut behind them. Even though they were in the safety of the hallway, he stood close to her, his voice only a whisper between them. “So, since obviously I’m going to the game tonight, why don’t you join me? I bet I can score you a seat up in the box with me.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you scared of my brother?”

“No.”

It was quick. Too quick.

“Oh my God. You’re actually scared of him.”

He clapped his hand over her mouth and moved them further down the hallway. She pulled his hand away, still shocked. “He’s your best friend. You actually think he’d be that upset?”

“You don’t?”

“He might yell a little.”

“A little? I took his little sister’s virginity in a fucking hotel bathroom.”

“Okay,” she amended. “He might yell a lot.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Yelling is what he would do if he knew I hit on you. What I did warrants castration. On national television. With a rusty knife.”

“Now you’re overreacting.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree. You know, with our mouths shut, because he can’t find out. Ever.”

“I agree.” She tried not to laugh at his horrified expression. “He’s already mad at you, though. Why is he upset about the extra rest?”

“It’s nothing.”

She poked him. Hard. “Tell me.”

He glanced nervously down the hall at the closed door. “Come to the game with me,” he tried again.

She opened her mouth to refute, but then he pointed at his poor, swollen eye. “You owe me, remember? Come to the game with me.”

His fingers touched her elbow. It was simple, yet significant. Denying him would be impossible. “Fine,” she sighed, “but only because I want to know what’s going on between you and my brother.”

“Trust me,” he answered with a relieved huff, “I’m still trying to figure it out myself.”

***

Henrik kept his word and got her a seat with him in the Rangers box. Usually, it was reserved for healthy scratches, meaning players who are on the team just in case one of the active players was injured suddenly, like Henrik. The box was relatively empty, only five or six other people, with some management coming in and out between periods.

Henrik could still barely see, even if the swelling had receded since the morning. She frowned every time she looked at him. Even with his injury, he still managed to take her breath away, in that wounded puppy kind of way. Especially when he was dressed up, his crisp, grey dress shirt pressed perfectly. It reminded her too easily of their night together, and she had enough trouble not thinking about it without the added encouragement.