Page 48 of Set Play

Me:

Private.

Lukas:

You know what that means boys. My twin gonna get some!

Cillian:

…times like this, I really wonder why I talk to you eejits.

Lukas:

Watch it, Cill. Cupid’s got you in the crosshairs next.

Cillian left the chat

Lukas added Cillian to the chat

Soren:

Why not reserve the roof for a private dinner?

Me:

More private. I want her to see that we can work beyond our deal.

Lukas:

All jokes aside, order room service & do a candlelit dinner.

Me:

Shit, that’s actually a really good idea.

After Lukas’s suggestion, I ran around the hotel on a mission to find everything I needed, not finishing until just before I promised to pick her up. It’s the real reason I showed up at her door in my sweats. All that hassle was worth this view though.

Despite her hair being mussed from being carried over my shoulder, Élise looks ethereal in the candlelight. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop staring at her over the steak dinner we’re enjoying.

When she catches me again, I grab my wine glass, swirling the red liquid slowly before taking a sip. Personally, I think it’s kind of gross, but the chef who helped plan the meal insisted on it.

“So, tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Do you want my elevator pitch?” she teases. At my deadpan look, she snorts into her wine. “Fine. Let’s see…you already know that I’m French-Canadian, have a brother, and work as a nurse. Oh, the reason I applied for the part-time job with the Storm is because I want to change specialties.”

“You want to go into sports medicine? That’s a big change isn’t it?”

She shakes her head. “Not exactly. So, I work at both a children’s orthopedic clinic and with the team because I want to move into pediatric sports medicine. Obviously you know that Henri plays sports, but growing up, so did I. In fact, I was on the soccer, volleyball, and track teams until I was fourteen. That’s when my injury happened. Spondylolysis.”

My brow furrows at the term. It sounds familiar, but I have no idea what it is. Even without seeing me, she must sense my next question.

“A stress fracture in the lower spine. We caught it early, but it required months of treatment. By the time doctors were confident in me returning to competing...” She trails off, staring at her wine like she wants to dive into it.

When she finally speaks again, it’s so soft I struggle to hear her. “A lot of things got really bad after that and my mental health took a nosedive.”

I reach over to cover the hand clenched around her glass, offering silent support. After a few deep breaths, she looks at me with a soft, unguarded smile, shaking off whatever ghost was lingering.

“But anyway, I want to help kids avoid injuries like that, so they never have to decide between their health and their dreams. Your turn.”