He nodded, then gestured. “Come on. You’re walking out with the coaching staff.”
The noise in the arena was deafening as the Atlanta Reapers starting line was announced. Then Coach Jay, his assistants, and I walked through the tunnel, which led directly to the home bench. It was freezing in here; I was glad that Andy had given me a long-sleeved black-and-red Reapers jacket.
I kept my expression stoic as I took my spot at the end of the bench next to the assistant coaches, but I was grinning on the inside. It wasloudin here as the fans prepared to cheer on their team. The mood was electric. It was the start of a new season, which meant new expectations and hopes for the team.
But for me, I just wanted to get through this game.
The national anthems were played, and then the game began. I was shocked at howloudeverything was down here; I was really close to the action, a fact that was emphasized when a Reapersplayer checked one of the Carolina Hurricanes players into the glass in front of me, shaking the bench.
Overall, from a trainer’s perspective, it was a boring game. I had to tend to a busted lip after a fight, but otherwise I didn’t have much to do. The Reapers looked sharp, scoring an early goal in the first period and another in the second. When the final buzzer sounded, we had won, 2-0.
The players were rowdy and excited back in the locker room, laughing and teasing each other. I smiled and watched them through my office window, feeling like I was a part of the win even though I hadn’t contributed in any meaningful way.
“Everyone’s a friend after a win,” Coach Jay stuck his head into my office to say. “It’s less fun around here after a loss.”
“Hopefully we don’t have too many of those.”
He pointed at me and said, “From your lips to God’s ears.”
After he left, another familiar face popped into my office. “Hey there, June,” Rhett said, cradling his shoulder. “I think I tweaked it out there.”
“Is that so?” I asked.
He nodded solemnly, but I could tell he was trying to hide a smile. “I think I need an hour or two of massaging. On my shoulder, my neck, my back…”
“Nice try,” I said, crossing my arms. “I saw you high-fiving and smacking asses a minute ago.”
He dropped the act and lowered his arm. “You were watching me smack my teammates’ asses, huh?”
“Lawson,” a new face barked from the doorway. It was Cole Thibault, the team captain. “Stop harassing the new trainer.”
“Whatever you say, captain.” Rhett left my office, but not before giving a hard smack onto his ass.
Cole winced in pain, and shifted his weight from one leg to another. It might’ve been nothing.
But it was my job to notice these things.
“You all right?” I asked.
Cole very deliberately adjusted his stance to act like he was fine. “Sure.”
I nodded at him. “Left knee? How long’s it been bugging you?”
He stared at me for a long moment. Long enough for me to take in the dirty blond hair that was cut short, and the deep brown eyes that seemed to see everything. He was still wearing his jersey and pads, but had already removed his skates.
Finally, he glanced over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “Couple weeks. It’s nothing serious.”
“I’ll let you know if I agree.” I patted the examination table. “Up you go. Pants off.”
I looked away and pulled on a pair of blue latex gloves while he undressed. When I turned back, he was stripped down to his jock strap and compression pants, sitting on the edge of the table.
“I can shower first,” he offered.
I waved away his offer. “I was the athletic trainer at Georgia before this. A little sweat doesn’t bother me. We haven’t officially met, but I’m June.”
“Cole,” he replied.
Cole was silent as I examined him. I could hear his soft breathing while I took his leg in my hands and bent it up and down, putting it through a range of motions. He wasn’t supermodel-gorgeous the way Rhett was, but he had this rugged, calm sexiness that I was instantly attracted to.
