“Medical thoughts, Doc?” Roman asks, and when I look up he’s watching me with an expression that’s pure challenge.
“I... that’s not... we don’t work on legs in shoulder rehabilitation?—”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Brody bounds up from the basement. “We’re showing tattoos? I have tattoos!”
Before anyone can respond, he’s pulling his shirt over his head with one hand. “See? This one’s a phoenix!” He twists to show the elaborate design that starts at his right pec, curves over his shoulder, and flows down across his shoulder blade. “Got it after my first season when I thought I was getting sent down but made the roster instead.”
“We know, baby,” Elliot says, but her voice has gone soft. “You tell everyone that story.”
“Because it’s a good story!” He flexes unnecessarily. “And look, the flames connect to this part?—”
“Very impressive,” Elliot stands and steers him toward his shirt, but not before trailing her fingers lightly over the ink on his shoulder. “But you’re supposed to be in the basement.”
“But Roman’s here?—”
“With his special puck,” she reminds him.
“Right. The puck.” Brody grins at Roman. “Super important puck.”
“Critical,” Roman deadpans.
“Life-changing,” Brody agrees, pulling his shirt back on. “We should probably go... examine it. Downstairs. Away from here.”
They disappear, but not before Brody winks so obviously at me that I want to throw my wine glass at him.
Two hoursand three more glasses of wine later, the discussion has devolved into ranking hockey players’ Instagram thirst traps.
“Roman doesn’t have Instagram,” Chloe points out.
“Because he’s above thirst traps,” Sarah says.
“He has that whole brooding captain thing,” Goldie adds. “Very mysterious.”
“Very boring,” Elliot counters. “No social media presence at all.”
“I like it,” I say, then realize everyone’s staring at me. “What? It’s refreshing. No curated workout videos or sponsored protein powder posts.”
“You’ve looked for his Instagram,” Sarah accuses.
“For medical purposes.”
“What medical purpose requires Instagram?”
“Checking for... form issues in posted workout content.”
“And when you couldn’t find his account?”
“I was relieved. Medically.”
Roman chooses that moment to reappear from the basement. “Brody’s trying to prove he can do a backflip on his new mat.”
“Christ,” Elliot mutters. “I should probably?—”
A crash from below.
“I’m okay!” Brody’s voice carries up.
Elliot sighs. “I should go check. Make sure he hasn’t broken anything expensive. Or himself.”
