“That place doesn’t do samples.”
“Maybe they started.”
“That’s a custom cup. See the label? It has your name on it. And a little smiley face.” He’s trying not to grin as he points at the cup that very clearly has my name written on it. “Roman ‘I eat the same three meals every day’ Varga went out of his way to buy you lunch.”
“You’re reading too much into it.”
“Am I? Because last season Rodriguez asked Roman if he couldhave one of his recovery bars—you know, the ones the team literally gives us for free—and Roman said he’d rather eat glass.”
I focus on the ankle examination, trying not to read meaning into the smoothie.
“Maybe he’s just protective of his food.”
“But not protective enough to keep him from giving it to you.” Brody’s voice is delighted. “Roman likes you. Like, likes you likes you.”
“Your ankle’s clear,” I say, making final notes. “Full contact, no restrictions.”
“This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all season!” He sits up. “Wait until I tell the guys?—”
He hops down, then pauses. “Doc? The team’s been noticing. He’s different around you. Less...”
“Murder-faced?”
“I was going to say rigid, but yeah, that too.” He pauses at the door. “Enjoy your definitely-not-a-sample smoothie.”
I wait until he’s gone before taking a sip.
It’s perfect. And definitely not a sample.
My phone buzzes.
Mom
Bad day. Don’t come by tonight. Teresa’s here and I’m just going to sleep.
The text hits hard. Bad days are becoming more frequent.
Another text comes through.
Elliot
WAGs night tonight! Wine and book club. You’re coming. That wasn’t a question. I heard about Smoothie Gate. We need details.
“Smoothie Gate?” I say aloud.
“That’s what the group chat’s calling it,” Jake says cheerfully, walking into the suite. “Cap’s Great Smoothie Romance.”
“There’s no romance. Also how did Brody tell her that quickly?”
“Sure. He just randomly brings you lunch because you’re buddies.”
“We’re not?—”
My phone buzzes again.
Elliot
See you at 7. No excuses.
