Page 10 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

"Breathing?"

"Also, unfortunately."

"Pain from one to ten?"

"Depends on who's asking."

"The person who’s deciding what happens next."

"Six."

She doesn't even blink.

"Try again."

I stare at the ceiling pipes sliding overhead.

"Eight."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome for my honesty."

"Eventually..." Sam snorts.

Annette checks the pulse ox clipped to my finger, then listens to my chest. Her face doesn't change, but her silence does.

That is the first thing about her that makes me nervous.

She doesn't perform concern. She acts. "Oxygen," she tells Sam and a mask settles over my nose and mouth.

I hate it immediately.

"Leave it," she says before I can lift my hand, which she immediately sees and responds.

I leave it. Again. Annoying woman.

A few more turns and cold air hits my face as the loading doors open to the ambulance bay. For a moment I can smell that the night outside smells like snow, exhaust, and wet pavement.

Annette climbs in after me. Sam follows.

The doors shut. The arena disappears. The ambulance starts moving.

Everything inside is too bright. Too close. Too quiet.

For the first time since I hit the ice, there is nothing else to watch.

No Ethan.

No bench.

No scoreboard.

There's only the cardiac monitor beeping beside me and Annette's calm hands checking what still works and what doesn't.

I turn my head toward her. "Who won?"

She looks up. For one second, she looks like she thinks the pain medication got to me before the IV took it in.