Page 72 of Pucked Together
I'm pretty sure I've met every player for the UCLA men’s hockey team, so this man must be a recent addition. However, he looks a little mature to be playing college hockey.
"Izzy, who are you talking about?" the man says, worry written on his face.
"Trevor," I say matter-of-factly. "He put you up to this, didn't he?"
The handsome face drops, and he looks like somebody just asked him to eat a pile of shit.
"So where is he?" I ask, trying to see out the door to where my boyfriend is hiding.
"Izzy, he's...he's not..." he's stumbling over his words.
A knock at the door interrupts him, and a small team of doctors enters. One of them has a clipboard in hand.
"We're going to need the room," the one with the clipboard says to the man. "We can call you back after we've run a few tests."
"There's....there's something wrong," he says, that worried look flashing across his features again.
"Yes, Mr. Balinger, that's why we need to run the tests."
Balinger? Who is this, Mr. Balinger?
"Excuse me," I say to the male doctor speaking to the man. "Is my boyfriend here? Or maybe my brother?"
Mr. Balinger glares at the doctor and motions towards me, growling out, "See?"
"Sir, let's chat outside, please," the doctor says, handing the clipboard to one of the other doctors who was trailing behind him. "Get a sample and then prep her for an MRI," he instructs her before holding the door open to this Balinger guy.
The stranger gives me a pleading look, like a puppy, before shaking his head and following the doctor out. I don't see the man again before I'm being wheeled out to get the requested MRI. My brain feels foggy. Like I've been sedated and just want to go back to sleep.
There are so many gaps in what I remember. I try to get the doctors to fill me in, but nobody gives me anything other than I'm in the country's best neurological hospital located in Houston and the extent of the accident.
Why I was on a plane heading to the Northeast with my brother is still a mystery, along with the identity of the man who was in my room earlier.
I'm settled back into my room when there's a knock on my door. Familiar, excited brown eyes land on me immediately.
I gasp, "Aunt Ginny!"
"Oh, my baby girl," the brown-haired beauty that is my father's sister pushes the door fully open and strides towards me. "Oh, Izzy-girl, what on God's green earth are they doing to you, baby? You look like an entire science experiment!"
She pauses in front of me to assess the cap I'm wearing on my head that the doctor explained is keeping track of my neurological progress. I shrug and try to give a smile as she takes my cold hand into her warm one.
"I'm so happy to see you awake," she whispers before leaning in to kiss my cheek.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"Days. But never mind that," she waves me off with a flick of her hand.
"How are you feeling, baby?" She rubs an affectionate hand over my bare arms, and I notice how cold it is in the room compared to her warm body.
"Like I was in a plane that fell out of the sky and had to make an emergency landing in Virginia."
She's amused that I'm taking this so lightly.
"That...sounds about right," she says with a chuckle. "Your brother has been an absolute basket case waiting for you to wake up. He's on his way now."
"What about Trevor?" I ask her, wondering if maybe he hasn't been able to break away from training camp.
"Sincaid? Why do you care where that son of a—"