Page 70 of The Goalie in Room 1

“Yes, it’s a step. A small one.” He sighed. “But a step.”

“In the right direction.”

“Yes.”

“Then why can’t you let me be fucking happy about it?”

“I can.”

“You’re doing a shitty job of showing it.”

He dragged a hand over his head. “Because I know athletes, Cash. And I’m coming to know you pretty well too.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You’ve known me for a couple of months.”

“Long enough to know you’re already turning this into something it isn’t.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re sitting there thinking that because your knee tolerated a straight-leg raise, you’ll be skating by spring. Hell, I’m worried you’re thinking you’ll be taking shots on goal in the next six months.”

I didn’t answer. Because he was right. That was exactly what I’d been thinking. Not playing. I wasn’t that delusional. But skating? Feeling the ice under my blades again? Proving my body hadn’t forgotten everything it knew? Maybe even standing in the net in my gear.

“Cash.”

“I didn’t say anything about spring.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I dropped back and stared at the ceiling. “You said I had a shot.”

“I said that if every stage goes as well as the surgery, you may have a small chance. We are still in the first stage.”

“One I’m fucking crushing.”

“Yes, you are doing very well.”

“Cautiously encouraged,” I mocked.

“Yes.”

I turned my head toward him. “Can you stop being my surgeon for five minutes and admit this is good?”

He went silent.

Not the silence he used when he wanted me to think about something. This was different. I’d caught him without an answer, which happened so rarely I almost forgot why I’d asked.

Because I needed this from him.

I didn’t need a promise. I knew he couldn’t give me one. I needed him to look at what my knee had done and believe, even for a minute, that I might get back everything I’d lost.

“I am so proud of you. And so happy,” he finally admitted. “But I’m also scared.”

Some of the fight drained out of me. “Of what?”

“Giving you hope my medical judgment can’t support. Of destroying any shot I have with the most interesting, sexy, sassy brat I’ve ever met.”

“That’s my hope. Not yours. And…let me set your mind at ease…I’m not letting this shitty-ass knee of mine ruin my shot at a sexy, silver fox Daddy type I want to ride my ass.”