Saved, Then Rejected by my Ice Hockey Mate
a familiar voice says dryly, “..this didn’t take long.”
I look up.
Mika stands in the doorway.
She’s exactly as I remember her: dark hair pulled into a loose knot, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp and tired in the way only healers ever seem to be. The silver insignia of the university’s medical corps gleams faintly at her collarbone.
The moment her gaze lands on Johanis, her expression hardens. The moment it lands on me, she exhales sharply through her nose.
“I told you,” she says flatly, already striding toward us, “..to either stay away from each other or be very careful.”