“Rotate it in a circle for me, like a windmill. If you can.”
He made the motion, swinging his arm in a full circle. “Only hurts at the top of the rotation.”
“Thought so,” I replied, walking over to the cabinets. After opening a few, I found what I needed. “I don’t think it’s torn. Some ice should be all you need. But if it’s still bothering you tomorrow, come back and we can get a scan.”
Rhett was silent as I placed an icepack on his shoulder and then spent a few minutes wrapping it in tape. “Leave that on for twenty minutes,” I instructed. “And try not to get into any more fights.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, leaning into his southern drawl. He favored me with that sexy smile again, the kind that probably made women melt. It wasn’t working on me, though.
But just barely.
After he left, Andy came back into the office. “You handled that well.”
“Rhett’s a piece of work,” I said, taking off my latex gloves.
“Truer words were never spoken.” Andy chuckled. “Come on. Let’s head back to HR and finish your paperwork.”
As I followed him through the locker room, I felt the players glancing in my direction. Nothing that made me feel uncomfortable—just sizing me up. Wondering who I was.
Rhett was one of them, sitting on the ground with his back against a locker, looking like a kid who had been put in timeout.
I held my head up high, but couldn’t help but wonder: what had I gotten myself into?
2
Rhett
This girl had no idea what she’d gotten herself into.
Hockey wasn’t the same as baseball, or tennis, or all those other sports where you frolicked around and shook hands with the other players after a match. Hockey players were full of piss and vinegar. We wererealmen who fought it out on the ice, usually with our sticks. But sometimes with our fists.
And this girl thought she could tell me not to get into fights?
I chuckled to myself. She was lucky I was so understanding. The rest of this team was going to eat her for breakfast.
It was a shock to see her standing behind Andy in the trainer’s room. I’d worked with Andy since I joined the team three years ago. I was used to him knowing what was wrong with me at a glance. He was part of my routine. Warm-up, game, then Andy. I usually spent my time with the trainer thinking about the game, replaying it all in my head and making mental notes about what I needed to fix.
But when June had her hands on me? It was like my brain rebooted itself. I couldn’t remember the fight, let alone the rest of the game.
Cole Thibault, the team captain, walked by in his street clothes. “Hey, you see the new trainer?” I called out.
He was frowning down at his phone, but stopped long enough to ask, “I heard Andy was retiring. What’s the new guy like?”
“Newgirl,” I corrected. “Looks like she’s right out of college. And yes, she’s hot.”
“I didn’t ask,” Cole muttered, but he looked over at me. “You know, if you focused more on the ice, and less on women, maybe you’d score more than seventy points this season.”
“Dang, bro. Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?”
“You pissed in them by picking a fight in a scrimmage,” Cole replied calmly. “We need you focused this season if we’re going to make a run at the Cup, Rhett.”
“I’m locked in,” I insisted as he walked away. “And I’m going to score a hundred points this season. Just wait!”
He was gone, but Elias, our Swedish goalie, was staring at me. “What?”
Elias shrugged, then resumed tying his shoes.
When my twenty minutes was up, I returned to the trainer room. To my disappointment, June was gone. I stripped off the tape and icepack and left them on the table like she’d asked.
