She really does look good, and I foresee the guys checking her out. The thought annoys me, until I remember Kingston, and then my insides go downright cold.
Kingston is a notorious playboy, and it’s grudgingly accepted on the team that if he wants a woman, anyone else will step back until either Kingston decides he doesn’t want her anymore, or the woman makes it abundantly clear she doesn’t want him. I wasn’t here last year, but according to Kelsier, no woman has ever turned him down.
A twinge of fear shimmies up my spine. Goalies can be some of the most squirrely, superstitious players on a hockey team, so other players often go out of their way to keep them happy. At least, that’s the way it was on most of the teams I played for. The last thing a team wants is a goalie with the yips.
Kingston is one of the less quirky goalies I’ve played with, but the rumor around the locker room is that he needs to have sex before a game to help him release pent-up energy so he can focus. I suspect Kingston himself started the rumor, but regardless of its origin, the bottom line is that if Kingston wants a woman, everyone else steps aside.
The thought of letting Kingston have Doc Mackey, even though I’m not interested in her, makes my whole body feel…unsettled.
“We’ll meet the coaches first,” I say as we head toward their offices.
“Great,” she says, smiling politely.
I eye the doc as we walk, trying to decide if she’s pretty enough for Kingston. She seems to get prettier every time I see her, but Kingston has particular tastes, and I don’t think the doc fits them. For one, she’s too tall. She’s on the high side of average in height, but most of the women I see Kingston with are tiny.
Really big guys who like especially tiny women never made sense to me. At just under six and a half feet myself, I hate having to stoop or arch my neck too far to kiss a woman. It’s uncomfortable.
The size difference also limits your sexual positions, and I like a little flexibility. Figuratively and literally.
Grace was on the taller side, and that’s one of the things I liked about her. She was also gorgeous, even by Hollywood standards, but it always took a lot of work for her to get ready. She could spend an hour on her makeup alone, and it seemed like such a waste of time to me.
I glance at the doc to see if she’s wearing makeup. It looks like she might have a little on around her eyes, and her lips look glossy, but she’s not wearing anywhere near what Grace used to put on.
I shake myself mentally, not sure why I’m so concerned with how the doc looks. She’s here to help me with my mental game, not audition to be my next girlfriend.
We reach Coach’s office, and I knock.
“Yeah, come in,” he calls from inside, and I open the door. Doc Mackey follows me inside as Coach looks up.
“Coach Davis, this is Dr. Gray Mackey,” I tell him. “She’s the one helping me with my chirping issue.”
Coach stands and shakes hands with the doc.
“Dr. Mackey, nice to meet you,” he says, then gestures to me. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
He’s smiling, but I still grimace. The criticism stings, although it’s not undeserved. Other than my moment of brilliance in the second period of game one, our opening road trip was a shitshow. We lost both games, andI think I spent more time in the penalty box the second game than I spent on the ice, which cost us two goals during power plays.
Doc Mackey smiles back at Coach, but it seems forced. “Well, trash talk has been used for centuries for a reason, Coach Davis,” she says, “and we don’t currently have a viable intervention against it, so it’s going to take some time to find something that works. I’m sure you didn’t expect Mr. Gunnarsson to be fixed after a couple games, right?”
The question sounds innocent enough, but I hear the edge to her words. Coach must hear it too because he’s speechless for a moment before he finds his voice.
“No, of course not,” he says with a bit of a laugh.
I’m not sure if the doc’s defense was more for me or for her, but I’m grateful to her for managing Coach’s expectations. More than that, the subtle way she had him on the ropes for a second was…kind of sexy, and now I’m seeing the doc in yet another new light.
Fuck me. I can’t let myself think of her that way.
Most of my frustration in game two was self-directed for not having corrected my issue yet, but Doc Mackey’s words put things in perspective. This isn’t going to be a quick fix, and I have to manage my own expectations as much as Coach needs to manage his.
We chat with Coach a little more before I take the doc in to meet the assistant coaches and the trainers. Then I text Kelsier to meet us near the weight room. He’s already there when me and the doc come around the corner a couple minutes later, and I groan inwardly at the shit-eating grin on his face. I give him a look that begs him not to be an ass.
“Is this the doc I’ve heard so much about?” he says as we approach.
I flash him another warning look that he ignores.
“Doc, uh, Gray, this is Zane Kelsier,” I tell her. “Or Kels as most of us call him. Kels, this is Dr. Gray Mackey.”
Kelsier and the doc shake hands as he grins the entire time.
