Sienna's hands stilled on her tablet. "Tonight?"
"Nothing fancy. Just food and company. I'm tired of eating alone." She kept her voice casual, but her heart was hammering. "You could meet my terrible cooking."
Sienna's eyebrow rose. "I've noticed your terrible cooking in the players kitchen. You burned toast yesterday and ate it anyway."
"That was for the crunch."
Sienna's mouth curved. She looked down at her tablet, then back at Elise, and the internal debate was visible on her face.Her fingers tapped once against the tablet case, a tiny, restless movement.
"I'll come," Sienna said. "But I'm picking up the food. You are not cooking with one arm."
"That's insulting."
"That's a medical directive." The softness in Sienna's voice took the edge off the words, and Elise grinned, and Sienna's cheeks coloured, and the whole room felt brighter.
Elise was already backing toward the door. "Seven?"
"Seven."
Elise gathered her bag and headed for the door with a lightness in her step that hadn't been there when she'd arrived. At the threshold, she turned back. Sienna was already at her laptop again, but her posture was different, softer, and there was the ghost of a smile on her face that she probably didn't know was there.
"See you tonight, Sienna."
"See you tonight."
She walked out of Medical and down the corridor toward the team lounge with the dinner plan glowing in her chest like a warm coal. The corridor was busier now, the facility fully awake, and the sounds of the team filled the building in all the ways that usually made her ache. But for the first time in weeks, the ache was muted. Sienna was coming to her apartment. Tonight. For dinner.
She pushed through the lounge door.
The team lounge was a large, bright room with leather sofas and a wall-mounted screen showing game replays and a kitchenette in the corner where someone had made coffee that smelled burned. The windows looked out onto the parking lot, where the late morning sun threw sharp shadows across the asphalt.
Lou was on one of the sofas with Camille, both in training gear. Frankie was sprawled in an armchair with her legs over the armrest, scrolling her phone. Dani sat cross-legged on the floor near the window, her braided hair damp from practice, eating a banana with the calm, unhurried focus she brought to everything. And Lex was at the kitchenette counter, pouring coffee, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.
"Moreno!" Frankie swung her legs down. "How's the shoulder?"
"Getting there." Elise flexed her shoulder gingerly.
"Getting there means what? Playing soon? Playing eventually? Playing in my lifetime?"
"Playing when Dr. Park says so."
Frankie waggled her eyebrows. "Ah, Dr. Park. How is the good doctor?"
Elise ignored the eyebrow waggle and sat down on the sofa opposite Lou and Camille. The leather was cold against the backs of her legs.
Lou looked up from her phone. "You look better."
Elise blinked. "I do?"
"Less like someone kicked your dog." Lou's gaze was sharp and assessing as it always was, the captain's eye that missed nothing. "You've been looking rough, Elise. Don't argue, you have. But today you look better."
Elise shrugged with her good shoulder. "Good rehab session."
Lou held her gaze, then went back to her phone. She didn't push it. Lou never pushed. She saw, and she let it go, and Elise loved her for it.
Camille leaned forward from behind Lou's shoulder. "We're talking about Saturday's game. Montreal's defence has been tight this season and Mara wants to run a new power play set.Lex has an idea for a cross-ice pass sequence that could exploit their weak-side coverage."
"It's not just an idea," Lex said from the kitchenette. She came over with her coffee and settled onto the arm of the sofa beside Frankie. Her energy was restless and bright, the kinetic confidence of someone who was playing the best hockey of her career and knew it. "I've been watching their penalty kill footage. Their left D-man cheats to the slot every time. If Camille sets up on the half-wall and I drift to the far post, there's a seam that opens up for a one-timer."