Chapter 10 - Reese
Reese
“We have to stop meeting like this.” Theo sauntered into the room that reminded me of Holly’s office back home. Dallas Stars called it their visiting medical bay, which… go figure.
“You’re late.”
His grin made it seem like he had a secret he wasn’t sharing, and it didn’t falter when he said, “Sorry, I know how much you miss me when I’m gone.”
The French lilt in his accent usually left the blandest statement dripping in charm. Now, it made something twist low in my belly. Which, I’d come to discover, was something he was very aware of. A weapon he wielded easily and freely.
Another thing I knew he was aware of, was how that wasn’t gonna work. Not after the past few games and the steady deterioration of that shoulder. Not with the team’s evaluation only a couple of weeks away.
A win and a loss to Stars at home, and he was still adamant he was ‘fine’.
“Take your shirt off.” I was already cutting strips of tape, mostly to get me out of staring down those smiling brown eyes.
The small space filled with light rustling, and then, “I’m all yours, Doc.”
He stood there far too pleased with himself, and when I looked up from the strips I’d lined along the end of the table, I caught more of him than I meant to.
Shoulders built from years of hits he pretended didn’t leave a mark.
Chest lean, the kind of athletic cut that made his shirts sit just right.
The overhead light caught along the curve of his abdomen, pulling attention to places I had no business letting my eyes linger.
I cleared my throat and moved around him before any of that could register on my face. Professional. Focused. The shoulder was why we were here, not the rest of him.
But he turned his back so I could reach, and something in the quiet flex of muscle pulled at me anyway. A pulse of awareness I shoved somewhere deep, the same way I handled everything else that didn’t belong in this room.
“Hold still,” I said, even though he already was.
I set my hands on his shoulder, kept my grip clinical, and ignored the spark of heat skating up my spine that had nothing to do with the lack of ventilation in this stuffy room.
My palm settled against the curve of his shoulder while the other hand anchored the tape. He breathed through it, watching me instead of the wall like I’d hoped.
“What’s going on with you today?” His voice lost some of that roughened charm. “I mean, you’re usually bossing me around, but… there’s something up. I can tell.”
Oh, ever the perceptive one, was he? Well, he was also consistent in his unchallenged levels of superior self-involvement. What would he care about any of the something elses going on with me?
I reached for his other hand, fingers closing around his.
The touch made him jump a little, and his eyes snapped to mine.
Questioning, but not refusing my steady hold.
His hand was warm. Calloused in all the ways that reminded me he made a living colliding with people almost always twice his size.
My fingers pressed down on his shoulder and his grip tightened on instinct, a quick jolt of pain flickering across his expression, and—fine—something flickered through me too.
But it wasn’t anything I planned on naming just yet.
He swallowed whatever the shoulder pulled out of him. I swallowed whatever this holding of hands pulled out of me.
My fingers guided his arm into position. “Hold it there.”
He did. Too easily. With that same infuriating composure he used whenever he was trying to read between lines I hadn’t given him access to.
I smoothed the first strip, then wound the second around his upper arm. His skin held heat and I hated that I noticed it. Hated that my pulse kicked in ways that forced me to think about things other than the job I was doing.
He tilted his head as if that would help him catch my eyes. “Did something happen?”
“No. You can let go now.” I reached for another strip. “Move toward me.”
He indulged me without argument. His scent was faint under the sterile haze of the room, clean and warm, and it tried to drag me right out of the professional lane I’d set for myself. I adjusted my grip, dragging the tape across the joint with a firm pull.
“I know you’re all about the job and whatever,” he murmured, thankfully dropping his gaze. “And I also know that not too long ago I told you to stay out of my business. But you don’t have to pretend with me.”
He talked about his full-blown tantrum like it was a mild misunderstanding. Typical. The tape snapped against his skin. “I’m not pretending. All you need to focus on is keeping your shoulder tucked. Don’t overextend. As long as you protect your shoulder, we’ll both be in the clear.”
He huffed out a sound that wasn’t a laugh but lived in the same neighborhood. “Ah. There she is. I was starting to worry.”
I worked another strip into place. He didn’t flinch, but his muscles twitched beneath my hands. That was new. Either the pain was worse or he was holding more tension than he wanted me to see.
I didn’t mention it.
He still tracked me though, watching every place my hands moved like the entire procedure mattered more than the game he was about to play.
“You’re not looking at me,” he said.
“I’m taping,” I answered.
“Hmm.” His hand grazed my hip as he shifted in place. He didn’t apologize for it. “Very focused today, Doc.”
I reached for the next strip of tape, already gauging the angle I needed across the front of his shoulder, when Theo gave me a look that didn’t belong in a medical setting at all. His mouth tilted in that smug curve he used whenever he knew he’d gotten under my skin.
My fingers jerked inexplicably, and the strip folded in on itself before I could stop it. Creases everywhere. Completely useless.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, trying to flatten it out. No luck.
Theo’s smirk deepened.
I reached for the roll to cut a new strip, but it slipped right through my hands, hit the floor, and rolled until it tapped against his skate bag. My hands shook. Subtle, but definitely noticeable. Definitely humiliating.
His brows lifted with something close to amusement, then walked over, and bent to get the tape with all the ease of someone who’d been doing this his whole life—making women lose their composure without even trying.
He held it out to me, and when I made to take it, he didn’t let go.
I gave a slight tug, but despite my efforts to the contrary, I gave in and dragged my gaze to meet his.
He was blatantly entertained by this. Heat pricked at my cheeks and forced my fingers to tighten around the roll of tape.
This time it came when I pulled, and quickly turned to grab the scissors.
Teeth digging into the inside of my lip, I willed my motor skills to stop betraying me and got back to work. It was the last one, and then he’d have to leave. And then I could breathe.
“Relax, Doc,” he said with a light chuckle. “I don’t think of you that way.”
I kept my face arranged in something neutral, even if my heartbeat had other plans. “What way?” The question slipped out before I could shove it back into the professional cage where it belonged.
Theo’s grin widened, and he made a vague gesture between us. “I’m not interested in you. Not my type.”
I ignored the way that shot straight behind my ribs. “Oh, gee, whatever shall I do now that my hopes and dreams of dating an obnoxious hockey player have been dashed?”
The flash behind his eyes almost gave him away, but he countered with another laugh. “And anyway, it’s—”
“Unprofessional,” I finished for him.
“Exactly.” He didn’t look or sound convincing at all. Which was a huge problem.
I tore a fresh strip even though it wasn’t needed, and smacked it against his skin. The tape went on tighter than it needed to. Not enough to injure him, just enough to make him feel it. A whisper of a punishment for the part of the conversation I refused to acknowledge.
“Ow, Jesus.”
I bit back my smile as I secured the tape, smoothing the edges before stepping back. “All done. You can go.”
He searched my face, but I gave him nothing, just turned back to repack my kit bag for the game.
Behind me, I heard the usual shuffle and grunts that told me he was pulling back into his compression shirt and took the chance to get my breathing back to normal.
To get my mask in place. So that when I faced him again, all this was back to being just a pre-game tape session.
“Guess I’ll see you out there,” he said, moving toward the door.
I replied with a nod, because although my mask was back, I didn’t trust myself to speak just yet. When it clicked shut behind him, I exhaled, reached for my supplies, and got myself back in order.
He’d go play his game. And I’d pretend this entire exchange hadn’t left a mark.
A few minutes later, I slung my kit bag over one shoulder and pushed through the hallway that led to the tunnel.
The pulse of the arena was already seeping into the walls, a low vibration of anticipation.
Skates clattered on concrete somewhere behind me, distant yells echoing faintly, but for the moment it was just me, the smell of rubber, and a whole mess of what the actual fuck was I thinking.
“Just the person I wanted to see.”
I whirled round to see Holly bounding over, or as much as someone in heels and a pencil skirt could bound. She looked like she belonged in a skyscraper in New York City, not slumming it out with the rest of us ingrates in the bowels of whatever arena would have us.
“What did I do now?” I rolled my eyes, but was smiling.
Her laughter echoed in the tunnel as she fell in step beside me. “Just wanted to congratulate you on how you’re handling this new spin on things.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“No, seriously,” she said, bumping shoulders with me as we walked. “It’s a bigger role than you signed up for, and you’re doing great.”