Alex holds up a hand. “Settle down, both of you. All I’m saying is that Rook might not be so opposed to the PT or whatever is going on if he doesn’t think you’re trying to pull one over on him.”

“There’s nothing going on. And even if there was, it’d be none of his business. I don’t owe him anything. This isn’t high school.” I try not to sound like my usual dick self, but this whole conversation is frustrating as hell. “Stevie and I have an agreement, and it’s mutually beneficial. End of story. My goal is to get back on the ice, and hers is to help me get there.”

Rook flails a hand in my direction. “How do you know he’s not telling you what you want to hear?”

“Because Bishop is making progress that proves he’s working his ass off and because Stevie graduated at the top of her class,” Alex says pointedly before turning back to me. “I’m holding you to it that while Stevie is working with you on rehab, that’s all that’s happening. This would apply to any member of our staff. Keep this professional. Your next session with the team physiotherapist is Monday, before the team workout, eh?”

“Yup.”

“He’ll have a workout assignment for you. Rook, your job will be to make sure he doesn’t push it too hard, too fast, and undo the progress he’s made. The faster he heals, the sooner he’s back on the ice and the PT ends. And Rook, be the team captain I know you can be. Don’t bring the personal shit into the session. If he has a setback, I’m holding you personally responsible.” He tips back his glass and drains the rest of his scotch. “All right, there’s a party going on, and I need to make sure my wife hasn’t given out all the Jell-O shooters in the first hour, or your teammates are going to be a mess. Good talk. Enjoy the party.”

And that is apparently the end of that.

Alex leaves us sitting in his office. I’m still on crutches, although I don’t have to use them all the time anymore. If I was faster getting off my ass, I could escape before Rook has a chance to corner me, but I’m not that lucky.

“You better not mess with my sister,” Rook snaps.

“Stevie’s a big girl. She can make her own choices.” It’s a noncommittal response—one I know is going to piss him off, even if it’s true.

“This has been a rough transition for her, so don’t take advantage of her niceness by screwing her over, or you’ll be answering to me.”

“Got it. Don’t screw with your sister. Anything else?” I adjust my crutches, aware my attitude isn’t winning me any prizes.

“I mean it, Winslow. She’s lost a lot in the past few years, and the last thing she needs is someone else dicking her around.”

“I heard you loud and clear, Bowman. I’m not planning on dicking her around, so find some chill.”

After that impromptu meeting, I’m not feeling the whole “being social” bullshit, so I don’t head back to the party right away. Instead I make a pit stop in the bathroom, mostly to escape Rook and avoid people for a while longer.

Kingston doesn’t do late nights, so I’m banking on him being ready to head out fairly soon. I decide I should try to make nice with my teammates, especially since I’m on the captain’s shit list. On my way back to the living room I run into Stevie, whom I definitely didn’t expect to be here tonight.

She comes to an abrupt halt when she sees me, although to be fair, I take up most of the hallway, so there really isn’t a way for her to get around me.

“Hey.”

She does a head-to-toe scan. I’m wearing black dress pants and a polo. “I didn’t realize you owned anything apart from jogging pants and T-shirts.”

Her sarcasm isn’t unexpected. In fact, I think it might be her go-to response when she’s uncomfortable, like mine is to be a dick.

“I even own a couple of suits, surprisingly enough.”

“Huh.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds before I finally say, “I didn’t realize you were coming tonight.”

“I’m here to pick up Kody.”

“Who?” I mentally flip through all my teammates’ names. There isn’t a guy named Kody. Karl, yes, but no Kody. Besides, Rook just finished telling me that Stevie wasn’t interested in dating hockey players.

“My nephew. My brother’s kid.”

“Oh.” Well, that’s a relief. “So you’re not staying?”

“No. These parties aren’t really my thing.”

“They’re not mine either.”

“Is that why you’re hiding out in the hallway?”

“I’m not hiding. I had a meeting with Rook and our coach.”

Her eyes flare. “What kind of meeting?”

“Just to talk about my progress.”

“Bullshit. I don’t buy that for a second. Did my brother get you in trouble because you’re working with me? I’m going to kill him.” She spins around as if she’s planning to hunt him down and confront him.

I grab her by the wrist to prevent her from running off half-cocked. “He didn’t get me in trouble.” Although he tried. No sense in sending Stevie on the warpath, though. “I’m a week ahead of what they predicted for healing, so I’ll be starting workouts next week.”