“You make it sound like that’s not a good thing,” I told her with a smile.

She winked. “We’ll call you in for your x-rays in a few.”

I nodded at the older woman and smiled at the couple waiting patiently behind me. I walked back to my seat in the corner of the room where the German was sitting with the television remote in his hand, flicking through channels on the mounted flat-screen. I muffled a groan as I sat, my hands gripping the armrests on the journey down.

He was eyeing me, only slightly shaking his head.

“What?”

He looked down, whether at my hands or the v-neck T-shirt I had pulled on I wasn’t sure, and then returned his gaze to my face. “You.”

“Be quiet. The last time I took time off from training was when my grandfather died. I don’t play hooky without a good reason.” I blew a long breath out of my mouth and stayed upright, back straight, hands braced to help me up when they called my name.

He reached over and smacked the side of my knee with the back of his hand. “I’ll be back.”

I opened my mouth and let a huge grin take over my face, the action halting him halfway up. The only reason I didn’t laugh was because it would hurt, but I still snorted. “Okay, Arnold.”

Kulti didn’t look particularly impressed. “He’s Austrian, not German, you little shit,” he deadpanned, his face saying I was annoying him, but his eyes said thought I was a little funny.

Besides, I hadn’t meant that I thought Arnold was German, but if it annoyed him, it was all the same.

Stretching up to his full height, he hit my knee with his and made his way out of the small reception area in the direction of the restroom. I pulled my phone out of the black leather purse my parents had bought me for Christmas and started typing a message to Marc. I let him know I made it to my appointment, and I’d be going in for an x-ray pretty soon. I hadn’t screwed him over too bad today by taking the day off, there wasn’t anything terrible on the schedule, but still. I felt bad, even if he was the one who told me I better not tag along until I knew for sure I wouldn’t be doing more damage to myself by working.

“Do you mind turning the volume up?”

I glanced up from my phone to see the man who had been behind me checking in with his wife, looking expectantly from his seat across the room. He was referring to the television. “Sure,” I said, taking the remote from Kulti’s empty seat and absently raising the volume on the television.

It took me a second to realize what the topic on television was for today.

“…it isn’t the first time money’s bought one of these guys out of trouble. How many times do their handlers hide things that they don’t want the public to find out about? There are employees for every big sport you can think of, who follow these superstar athletes around, dragging them back to their hotels after an entire night spent at a strip club or partying. Some fans don’t want to hear about their favorite athletes doing normal, human things. Honestly, I’m not surprised if there is a DUI on Kulti’s record that no one can find solid proof of it. The guy is a German national hero, even if half the country hates his guts. After the two seasons he spent with the Men’s American League, he’s practically an American hero—“

I changed the channel, my heart beating up in my throat.

Jesus Christ. They were discussing him having a DUI on freaking Sports Room? Didn’t they have anything better to talk about?

“Excuse me. You mind putting it back?” the man across the room asked.

I was suddenly unbelievably thankful that I’d told Kulti he needed to put on one of my hats before we left my apartment. Feeling like a little bit of a dick, I shook my head. “In a minute. I’m sorry.”