Chapter 14 - Reese
Reese
“You awake back there?” Theo’s voice cut through the quiet of the med bay.
I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Management breathing down my neck, the off-books injection, McAvoy’s little trading situation… apparently none of that was enough.
Theo had to tack on a kiss I still couldn’t think about for more than a second without losing my grip on basic motor skills.
Avoidance wasn’t an option anymore. Van der Berg was practically packing his bags for Sweden already, which put every player in my hands, including the one person I couldn’t seem to handle.
The taste of him could still be conjured up with me barely trying.
“Doc?”
I guided his arm up and felt the familiar build of muscle under my thumb.
No swelling. No visible irritation. The problem was deeper, right where my palm settled near the joint.
I asked for a small external turn, and the tension hit my hand before it hit his face.
He held steady, but there was a shift in his breathing that told me exactly where it hurt.
I chased the range a little higher, pretending I didn’t feel the heat of his skin or the way he leaned forward like he was bracing for bad news.
“Listen. About yesterday.” His voice caught on a small, pained laugh that could’ve been due to the mild torture I was putting him through, or the kiss he brought up.
My fingers tightened a fraction on his trap. He didn’t turn, but something in his posture reacted.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, breathing slow. “I got carried away. Kissing you like that. It wasn’t… I shouldn’t have.”
Of course he shouldn’t have. And I shouldn’t have liked it. And I definitely shouldn’t have replayed it all night and all morning, like an idiot with no sense of self-preservation.
Preservation. Who was that woman, anyway? Never knew her. Not when I was out partying instead of prepping for the MCAT, not when I agreed to help a hockey player cover up his injury, somehow thinking it would all work out great for both of us.
But that kiss though…
I wanted to grab his face and lay another one on him. To tell him screw the playoffs, screw the committee, and let’s run away to Portland together to open a vegan cat cafe, where nobody actually likes cats, just the aesthetic.
“Did you hear what I just said?”
“I heard you.” One misstep, one wrong move, and Portland wouldn’t want anything to do with either of us. Personal and professional ruin. I lowered his arm carefully, feeling the joint protest under my palm.
“And?”
“And you need to snap out of it,” I said finally, pressing into his deltoid.
“Ow. What?”
I moved back so I was facing him again. Ready to invite him into a front-row seat to my downward spiral. He was right to backtrack on what he did. He was better off.
“We’re on the verge of losing everything we’ve worked for, and you wanna talk about a kiss? Seriously?”
His shoulders dropped a fraction. “I know. I just… I didn’t think—”
I shook my head, moving him through another range. “No, you don’t know, Bouchard. You’ve got to focus. On you, on your body, on the committee sitting rinkside as we speak. When you go out there today, they’re gonna be watching you like a hawk.”
He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “I get it. I just— sorry.”
I paused on his arm, feeling the subtle pulse of muscle under my fingers. “Stop apologizing. You want to play? You want us to survive this? Then all you have to do is keep your head in the game.”
He nodded, quiet, but his eyes lingered on mine for longer than necessary. “I… I know you get it. Last time I told you about the pressure I was under, I felt like you didn’t understand.”
I snorted, backing up to grab the tape from my desk.
“Oh, I get it. I totally get it. I was pre-med, about to become a doctor like the rest of my family. Except, Northwestern gave me a big fat no, so I pivoted to physio. Hope springs eternal, right? Figured maybe I could salvage some parental approval before I died alone on my couch eating ice cream straight from the tub.”
He tried to hide a smile, but failed. “Sorry you didn’t make medical school, but I got a mental image of you and that tub of ice cream just now, and it’s pitiful.”
“Not more pitiful than being caught out by a bunch of suits with clipboards,” I replied without missing a beat. “So I don’t know why you’re in such a great mood.”
He smirked. “Well, you’re not mad I kissed you, so that’s a good start.”
“Hold still.” I playfully slapped his bicep, my cheeks warming despite my call to focus. “Strapping doesn’t work with twitchy arms.”
I lined up the tape, fingers precise. And right when I was about to place the strip…
“If you want this evaluation to go off without a hitch, you should give me another shot.”
He wasn’t serious. Couldn't be. “I told you last time— One and done. You went balls to the wall in that game against Dallas, and it’s showing. Taking another shot is just gonna do more harm than good.”
His eyes caught mine, and that light teasing from before was gone. “This isn’t a game, though. It’s an evaluation. No body checks, no fights. There’s no reason to have any balls on any wall.”
I hesitated, biting the inside of my cheek. Every fiber screamed no. It was the worst out of a slew of bad ideas our bad idea factory had been spitting out lately. But I also knew the playoffs, his place in it and my job with the team, everything was hanging on the next sixty minutes.
“Fine,” I muttered, voice tight. “But this is the last time, and I mean it.”
He held his arm steady while I prepped the syringe, and barely flinched when I pressed it into his arm. Relief washed over him almost immediately, and I felt the tension drain from the room.
“Pain?” I asked, stepping back.
“That’s a negative,” he said, rolling his shoulder. “Except…”
“Except what?” I stepped back, but he didn’t let me retreat.
He leaned in, too close for casual air, and the next thing I knew his hands were on my hips, pulling me flush against him. My knees nearly betrayed me, heat prickling down my spine.
“Here.” He tapped the corner of his mouth. “I think you missed a spot.”
“Looks just fine to me.” I tried to yank back, just a fraction, but his grip challenged me. I couldn’t decide if I was thrilled or panicked. My hands found their way to his chest as if to answer that question for me.
Theo’s eyes bore into me, a dare held up by a knowing smile that made it hard to concentrate on all the right choices I had at my disposal. I looked away, determined to steer clear of temptation.
He caught my wrist with one hand and tilted my head up, and it was game over.
The kiss wasn’t the quick sweep of victory from yesterday. It was slow. Soft. His tongue rolled over mine as if we had all the time in the world. I grabbed the back of his neck, my heart racing and my brain short-circuiting at the same time.
“Better?” I asked when we finally broke apart.
He pretended to think about it, then said, “A little. But my doctor advised me that several treatments a day are necessary for full recovery.”
“I’m your doctor.”
He’d gone back to grab his shirt off the table, and flashed a grin as he turned it right side out. “Not a doctor, remember?”
I laughed, and then remembered what the hell I was supposed to be doing here. He was getting dressed, but I hadn’t finished taping him yet.
“Where are you going? I’m not done with you.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Hopper.” He pulled on his compression shirt like it was nothing. No careful movements, no wincing. “This is a respectable place of business, can’t you tell?”
I watched a totally different man than the one I’d been working with. The ease in his movements, the confidence in his stride as he walked toward the door.
“Hey, Bouchard…”
He turned in the doorway, that smile still firmly planted on his face.
“Do you like cats?”
“What?” Confusion clouded his expression, but he gave a little laugh to soften it.
I waved him off. “Never mind. Go save our asses.”
He was gone before I could say anything else, leaving me with the rush of that kiss and a different, gnawing kind of apprehension.
I didn’t know what to think about this latest development yet, but with everything else going on, I was happy to take my time with it.
Theo wasn’t going anywhere and if this eval went off without a hitch, neither was I.
The committee was already settled rinkside by the time we walked out. I took up McAvoy’s spot on the bench while he went onto the ice with the guys. The committee was packed in Holly’s favorite area near the penalty bench. They were already leaning in and whispering to each other.
McAvoy blew his whistle and called a start to the drills. This was it. The moment of truth.
Van der Berg slid onto the bench next to me. He hadn’t been involved with the team the past few days, so I couldn’t hide the instant shock that took over my face.
“Oh, relax, I’m not stealing my job back,” he chided, eyes on the ice. “Just wanted to see how the eval played out today, that’s all.”
I forced a laugh that sounded too thin to be convincing. “Good, because I just got my name printed on a shiny gold plaque for your office door.”
“I’d wish you luck, but you’ve been around long enough to know that’s a load of bullshit.” The line was dry, but there was weight in it, and I didn’t look away from him. Not until he finally turned and let his attention drift to the drills.
McAvoy was pacing the crease, yelling adjustments, directing traffic, snapping fingers at the forwards.
Mason and Grayson weaved through the drills, crisp, deliberate, catching passes in the slot, shooting off the tape like it was second nature.
Shawn skated hard along the boards, a blur of speed, while Landon followed every cue, bouncing from drill to drill, eyes bright, blade cutting ice with practiced flourish.
Tucker and Theo held the blue line, coverage tight, reacting like the glue that held the chaos together. Hunter crouched in net, eyes scanning every angle, his glove snapping up in rhythm with every simulated attack.
Theo caught my eye a few times, subtle glances that felt like reassurance and challenge all at once.
He moved differently than he had the past weeks.
Smooth, confident, decisive. I wanted to relax and watch the skill.
Instead, I tensed, every part of me aware of the injection, aware that it wasn’t real.
Relief clawed at me each time he intercepted a pass, each time he leaned into a body check or cut off a lane—but guilt dug its claws just as hard.
Every shift, I felt the weight of my hands on his shoulder earlier, the feel of the syringe, the line I’d crossed.
One wrong report, one careful observer seeing the tiniest overextension, and I’d not only ruin my career but potentially ruin Theo’s.
He was putting himself on the line for me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what that meant.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to keep it together. The committee scribbled their notes, their eyes tracking every pivot, every subtle gesture. I felt their attention in my bones, the sharpness of their focus slicing past the rink’s plexiglass straight into my chest.
Theo, entirely unaware of my inner meltdown, skated past, offering a nod and a small smirk. My heart seized a little. He felt good and he was loving it. But it was all so fragile. Synthetic. Dangerous.
The whistle blew. McAvoy reset the drills, calling out combinations, switches, coverage angles.
The boys responded instantly, Mason driving hard, Grayson cutting inside, Shawn hammering along the boards, Tucker and Theo splitting coverage like they’d done it a thousand times before.
Landon shadowed each play, alert, waiting for his moment.
Theo’s shoulder held up, and relief collided with fear in my chest. I was in too deep. Too far. I’d gambled my integrity, my career, his health… Every move he aced was a reminder of what I couldn’t undo.
I could only hope the line between victory and catastrophe didn’t blur in front of the committee.
One of the committee members called an end to the drills. They’d seen all they needed to see. But I didn’t linger to watch them compare notes or talk up the coach. Every second in that arena made my chest twist tighter, a reminder that I’d skirted disaster by the thinnest margin.
I moved quickly down the concourse, breaking into the outside parking lot with a desperate push that wasn’t warranted by the moment.
The bright afternoon sun assaulted me like a spotlight I hadn’t asked for.
My hand tightened on my keys, and I’d almost made it all the way to my car when a familiar voice cut through the quiet, stopping me cold.
“Come grab a drink with us,” Holly said, tossing her hair back and gesturing over her shoulder.
I followed her glance. Theo and Hunter were heading out too, the rest of the team trailing behind, sticks and bags in tow.
A spontaneous post-evaluation debrief disguised as camaraderie.
The thought didn’t appeal to me. The worst possible time to drink with the player I’d been lying for, the one I’d kissed, the one I’d staked my whole career on.
“I’m good,” I said, already turning toward my car.
Holly didn’t push, and I felt myself sighing to the sound of her heels on the asphalt as she walked away. I finally let my shoulders drop, thinking I was home free. Only to hear the deep, familiar timbre of McAvoy behind me.
“Good work today, Hopper.”
I turned, keys dangling in the car door. “It wasn’t me out there on the ice.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s your help that got them there. Especially Theo. The kid’s made a complete turnaround. What magic are you working in that med bay?”
I laughed past the lump in my throat. “You know what they say—there’s nothing a little eye of newt can’t fix.”
“Eye of newt.” He laughed so hard it got the attention of the guys across the lot.
“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up.
Might even be enough for management to ease off the idea of trading him.
” My heart stopped, but not in the good way like when Theo had his hands on me earlier.
It was a decidedly bad way. “You haven’t mentioned anything to him, have you? ”
I shook my head. “Not my place. I do my job. That’s it.”
He studied me for a beat longer, then smiled faintly and clapped me on the shoulder. “And you keep it up, I’ll write that recommendation letter for you to replace Van der Berg once he leaves.”
I was a wreck sliding into my seat once he’d left. On the verge of getting everything I’d wanted. How could someone feel on top of the world and like absolute shit at the same time?