Page 43 of Rise Above

the living room. “Is there something on my face?”

“No.”

She raised a brow at me. “Okay.” The word was

drawn out but not harsh.

I watched her work for a few more minutes,

studying the way her fingers flew across the keyboard and the way her nose scrunched up when she seemingly got stuck. She was so cute. Her shoulders hunched as she slammed on the keys. Despite myself, I could feel my attraction to her growing. Aife was all the things I had once claimed to want in a woman: smart, kind, passionate, athletic, and beautiful. It would be impossible not to be attracted to her, but it was a dangerous game I was playing. I bit my lip, swiping a hand through my hair.

“What’s your dissertation about?” I asked, breaking

the monotonous silence.

“The inequity and health disparities women face in

the U.S. healthcare system and how having access to comprehensive resources and therapies can improve those discrepancies.” It was so matter of fact it actually caused me to reel back.

“Fuck.” I was shocked. I didn’t know what I was

expecting her paper to be about, but it wasn’t that. “You sound like you have personal experience.”

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She peered over her laptop at me. “I’m a woman,

and shockingly, I have been to the doctor.”

“That’s not what I meant, Aife.” I held my hands

up, hoping to convey my intent.

“You haven’t unlocked that level of friendship yet.” Shaking my head, I snorted. “One day then. Hey?”

“Yes?” Her eyes zeroed back in on her screen. She

was more focused on her laptop, but she was still giving me some of her attention. I’d take it.

“Come to my game tonight? Davis is going.”

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

“On one condition.” I locked eyes with her. “Wear

my jersey.”

Aife clicked her tongue. “Deal. Now go away so I

can work.”

Nerves wracked my body in a way they never did.

I’d been playing professional hockey for seven years; I rarely, if ever, got nervous. This probably had something to do with the little spitfire that had agreed on coming to my 101

Rise Above