Back to Me (Carolina Rebels 1)

But first, we have to take Leo for a walk. Meredith promises she’ll be done with her shower in five minutes. Marc and I take Leo for his walk in the meantime.

“Would you really punch me?” he asks.

I laugh. “Maybe if you were particularly annoying. I know a large part of how you are with Meredith is to piss me off, but I also know you’re basically going to be a brother-in-law to her. We just need to get you a woman before you start having funny thoughts about mine.”

I’m half-serious because how can anyone not fall in love with Meredith, but it’s good that Marc knows I’m joking too. He laughs. “Trust me, I can’t think about anyone but Ivy, or whatever her name is. This is why flings are a bad idea.” He groans and runs his hand through his hair.

“Man, you’ve got it bad.”

“I know!” he grits with frustration. “It’s fucking stupid because there wasn’t anything of substance about our conversation and the sex was in my fucking truck and way too short. What is there to continue thinking about? But I’ll be damned if those hazel eyes aren’t haunting me every chance they get. I swear, if I ever see that woman again, she’s not going to be able to run away from me.”

“Well, good luck with that.”

We make our way back to the apartment where we find Meredith trying to fluff her wet hair. I’m surprised she’s ready. Why couldn’t she be that fast back in high school? We’d have more time to make out. She puts Leo in his crate and then we’re leaving for a fun dinner, where I notice her absentmindedly rubbing her shoulder often.

It makes me think I was right. She’s been getting back into the groove of training and her body just can’t handle it anymore. If she keeps on, she’s going to do more harm to her shoulder. At some point, I’m going to have to mention it to her.

Based on our last conversation, I’m dreading when the time comes for that. It’s there in the back of my mind that an argument over how I think she should stop her training and officially retire could possibly be disastrous to our relationship. Anxiety begins to build inside me. Meredith left me to pursue her career.

Who’s to say she won’t do it again when I tell her I disapprove of her trying to make her comeback? She’s so damn determined to try. She’s made a decent enough attempt and it’s not working. This stays on my mind into the next morning. When Meredith leaves for her PT session, I call the therapist I referred her to.

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Noah Ramsey; I sent Meredith Quick to you.”

“Oh, yes. How can I help you?”

“Are you able to tell me anything about her sessions?”

There’s a brief pause. “Your name is listed as someone I can discuss her progress with, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. She hasn’t been to a session in two weeks.”

Fuck. “Does she have an appointment with you this morning?”

“No.”

Damn it! “Based on working with her, do you think her shoulder can handle her returning to play professionally?”

The woman clears her throat. “No. I told her this as well. She can do a few things, but if her shoulder could handle her playing pro again, her PT would have ended by now. Frankly, I think she could use some more sessions. If she starts trying to get back into shape and ready to play, she’s going to damage her shoulder more. What strength she’s recovered will start to disappear and she’ll start having issues again.”

“Thank you for answering my questions.”

“No problem.”

We hang up and my worrying expands greatly. She’s stopped attending PT. She’s probably training instead. Somehow, I’m going to have to bring this up to her at some point. I just hope I don’t lose her when I do.

Friday is here before I know it. Aside from hockey, I spent time with Leo while Meredith was at work and sneaking off to train. Once, I went to a tennis match and watched those girls play hard. It was fantastic to watch Meredith in her element. I’m really hoping I can convince her to offer private lessons. She can do that, even if she doesn’t play. I wish she’d agree to do that and start obsessively planning how she would do it. It would be a relief to watch her plan things again.

That is such a huge part of Meredith’s personality. She would even try to plan things for me when we were together in high school. That was one of her reasons as to why I shouldn’t get her name tattooed on my chest. She thought I was being impulsive and that freaked her out just as much as if it was her who woke up and wanted to get my name tattooed onto her body.

There was nothing impulsive about it. Well, there was a little bit. The difference is any impulsive decisions I make are based on my gut reaction, which usually pays off. Meredith often makes impulsive decisions because she’s scrambling for a short-term solution to make her feel better. Like coming here and then getting Leo. Luckily, those paid off for her.

Tonight, we’re playing a team from Texas. It’s going to be a tough matchup. Meredith is supposed to leave practice to have dinner with Sylvia and Theresa before coming here and catching a ride home with me. I’m glad she’s making friends with some of the women. She’s enjoyed taking a photo of us every other day for my social media thing, too, sometimes posting on her own instead. They’re trying to talk me into Twitter, but I keep saying no. One account is enough for me right now.

Pregame rituals are soon over and we’re standing on the ice, waiting for the national anthem to be sung. I bend my head with my eyes closed as if in prayer. For a brief moment, a touch of guilt plagues me. Being able to stand on a slab of ice with the logo of a pro team in the middle, with that same logo on my chest, is a dream come true for me. Every time I put on clothes with such a logo on, be it a uniform, a hoodie, T-shirt, or gym shorts, a thrill runs through me. It never gets old.

Meredith doesn’t have this.

My guilt dissipates knowing she’s found an alternative that makes her equally happy, even though she’s clinging on to her pro career.