I placed my clipboard down on the table and turned to face him. He could pretend all he wanted his shoulder didn’t hurt. I knew differently. I’d seen the hit at the end of the season last year. I had even caught him a few times this week at home, rolling his shoulder and stretching it out. I’d also seen the occasional wince when he’d come home from practice from overdoing it. He didn’t know, but when I was on my way back to my room from the bathroom, I’d seen him with an ice pack resting on his shoulder as he went into his room.
I was just about to touch him when Evan hopped off the table and stood at his full six-foot height. He towered over me as he looked down at me.
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
Immediately, my irritation flared.
“And I don’t need to deal with an overgrown toddler with anger issues, but here we are.”
His eyes snapped to mine, and he took a step closer, too close, until I had to tilt my chin up to meet his dark and steely gaze.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” he whispered.
I locked eyes with him, not about to back down.
“Then stop acting like someone who deserves it.”
For a moment, neither of us moved. We stood there, close enough that I could feel his breath brush my cheek. My pulse hammered in my ears, and I hated the way I felt—the heat, the pull, the way my body was reacting to his proximity.
Finally, he took a step back, creating space, but only by an inch.
“I’m not doing your stupid tests.”
“Evan, this is my job,” I said, trying to control what little patience I had left. “If you don’t co-operate, then it’s going to reflect on me.”
“Not my problem,” he said, tearing his eyes from mine.
Only I saw something flicker in them—guilt, frustration. Whatever it was, it was something he immediately buried.
“It’s absolutely your problem,” I snapped.
“How is that?” he asked, crossing his impressive arms in front of him.
I thought for a moment, trying to come up with a different approach, and then let out the breath I had been holding.
“I want to be clear. I am not saying that you are hurt. All I noticed was something was off with your movement. I just want to check it out. I saw the hit at the end of last season. It could be nothing, but if it was something and you make it worse and I don’t notice it because I think it’s just the way you move, it will become a problem.
“These things start slowly, maybe a twinge or minor ache, maybe a little pain when you move a certain way, and then suddenly you are having problems on the ice. You lose strength,you miss shots you normally make with ease, then one morning you wake up and perhaps you can’t play. Then, Coach will have no choice but to bench you until you’ve been looked at, and then if they discover the injury, they will question me, wanting to know why I covered for you. An inquiry will take place. By that time, the list of players I’ll be working with could be huge, especially between active players and off-ice players. You could have to wait for treatment, making things worse. You may not even be able to play, and then you’d be sitting around at home pouting and blaming me for a situation you could have avoided.”
I knew these players. A handful of them feared being forced to sit out while their team played.
“You are infuriating,” he said, his jaw even more tense than before.
“That’s funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two other trainers come walking in. They looked over at us and immediately backed out of the room without a word. I didn’t blame them; there was so much tension hereIwanted to leave.
Finally, Evan sat back on the table, every muscle in his body tense, his eyes locked on mine.
“Fine, do whatever you need to do,” he said begrudgingly.
I moved closer, lifting my hands. I had been dreading this moment—touching him, feeling the heat of his skin, trying to maintain a clinical distance while every single nerve in my body screamed at me.
I pressed my fingers first against his left shoulder, then I moved to the right shoulder, testing it for tension, only I didn’t have to press hard because I felt it immediately, and Evan gave it away by inhaling sharply while clenching his jaw.
I frowned.
“Does that hurt?” I asked, keeping my voice professional, even though my heart raced in my chest while waiting for his answer.
