Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
MATT
Chelsey turned her face toward Max and laughed, the expression lighting her up and making it impossible to look away from her.
Tension coiled in my gut and my hand tightened around my hockey stick.
I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to thank the other man for giving her something to laugh about or chase him the fuck away because I wanted her to look at me like that, not him.
She tilted her head to the side and her hair swished around her, glowing gold in the overhead lights. I bet it was soft. It used to be so silky. I’d loved running my hands through the strands or wrapping them around my fist as I…
“Matthews!”
I jerked around, adrenaline rushing through me at the sight of a puck hurtling toward my head. I instinctively ducked sideways, almost losing my footing as the puck whistled past my helmet, missing me by less than an inch.
“Fuck,” I breathed, flattening my hand over my hammering heart.
“What the hell?” Gauthier demanded, skating up to me. “Pay attention, man. That could have rattled your brain.”
I grimaced as I tried to get my breathing under control. “I know. Shit, I was distracted. I’ll focus now.”
Focus on the puck, not on Chelsey.
I couldn’t afford to indulge my obsession with her while I was on the ice. It was too dangerous. Never mind that I hadn’t been able to think of anything else. I’d spent more than a week now wondering if I’d done the right thing when I’d decided to let her run away during that dinner in Minnesota.
If I’d gone after her, might something have happened between us?
At least we hadn’t returned to the awkwardness of avoiding each other. When she’d seen me the next morning, she’d acted normally, so I had too. That was one thing to be grateful for.
I skated after the puck and passed it back to Gauthier.
Assistant Coach Willets corralled us for two-on-one defense drills and then we all lined up and took turns trying to get the puck past first Davenport and then Schmidt.
Schmidt was improving, but he still wasn’t as consistent as Davenport and couldn’t pull off the same epic saves.
As I waited my turn, I glanced over at the side of the rink, where the documentary team was interviewing Nick Kelly.
They’d already spoken to Austin and me, and my guess was that they’d want Davenport next.
Hopefully, I’d managed to make sense during my time with them, but I couldn’t guarantee it, considering I was dedicating too much brainpower to watching Chelsey move around in the background.
When training wrapped up, I ditched my gear in the training room but didn’t shower.
I wanted to fit in a weight-based session before heading home.
I squeezed out of the changing rooms, past the players still coming in, and turned toward the stairs at the very moment that Chelsey and Kim started to climb them.
As I watched, Chelsey’s ankle gave way beneath her and she jerked sideways, tripped, and tumbled to the ground. I stood, frozen to the spot for all of two seconds before I rushed over and dropped to my knees beside where she lay prone on the floor.
“Are you okay?” I asked, checking her face to see how much pain she was in before skimming my gaze down her body to her ankle.
Her eyes were slightly squinty, and her lips were pressed firmly together.
Her breath came more harshly than usual, and although nothing was outwardly wrong with her ankle, the way she was holding her leg told me it hurt.
Kim backtracked down the stairs. “What happened?”
“Just rolled my ankle.” Chelsey gave a hollow laugh. “Silly of me. I’ll be fine.”
She tried to stand up but flinched and dropped back onto her bottom again. “I might need some ice.”
“Do you want me to get the team physio to have a look at it?” Kim asked, pocketing her phone and doing something weird with her hands as if she wanted to offer one to Chelsey but wasn’t sure if it’d be appreciated.
“I’ve got it under control,” I assured her, then lowered myself so I could slide one arm into the space beneath Chelsey’s knees and shimmied it up slightly, so I was cradling her thighs. I wrapped my other arm around her lower back.
“What are you doing?” Chelsey demanded breathily.
I straightened, lifting her into my arms. “Taking you to see Lewis, the physio.”
Her eyes widened even further, and she looked like she might slap me but immediately realized she didn’t want to be dropped.
“You can’t carry me,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing.
“Can’t I?” I asked blandly. “It kind of seems like I am.”
Indeed, my legs were quickly eating up the distance between the stairs and the physiotherapist’s examination room.
She looped her arms around my neck. “If you drop me, I’ll—”
“I won’t drop you.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not that heavy. I lift more than you most days at the gym.”
I actually rather liked carrying her. Her plush thighs were pressed to my arm, her lush ass to my torso, and I could smell the fruity shampoo she must have used earlier. I breathed her in, delighting in the moment. I doubted I’d get to hold her like this again anytime soon.
As I turned into the examination room and made for the bed in the center, her grip on me tightened.
“Do not let me go until I’m on the ground.”
I snorted. “I won’t.”
I’d hurt her enough. I absolutely wasn’t going to be the cause of more pain in her life.
“What’s happened here?” Lewis asked, rising from behind his desk. The physiotherapist was a lean guy who topped out at five foot eight. He propped his glasses up on his nose as I lowered Chelsey gently onto the bed, not releasing her until I was certain she was comfortable.
“I rolled my ankle,” she told him, her face flushed. “I could have walked here, but someone wanted to play at being the white knight.”
“And didn’t I do it well?” I teased, then added more seriously, “She tried to put weight on it, and it buckled.”
Lewis moved down the bed and stopped in front of her ankle. He reached for the bottom of her jeans. “May I?”
She nodded and he rolled them up enough to access her ankle. He carefully felt around, and when she winced, it was all I could do not to push him away from her.
He’s helping, I reminded myself.
He took hold of her foot and bent it this way and that, noting what movements caused her discomfort.
“It could be sprained,” he said eventually. “Let’s ice it and then I’ll wrap it just to give you a little support. Keep your weight off it as much as you can for the next two days.”
She sighed. “I can do that. I don’t think I’ll be leaving the office much.”
Lewis went to the small fridge-freezer, withdrew an ice pack, wrapped it in an exercise towel, and held it to her ankle. She pulled a face but didn’t complain.
“Will you be able to manage the stairs?” I asked worriedly. That was what had gotten her in this position in the first place.
“They’ll be fine,” she said, as if she didn’t have a track record of injuring herself on them. She twisted toward me. “Were you going to the gym?”
“Yeah. It’s a weight training day.”
“You can get back to that, then.” She smiled half-heartedly. “We’re fine here. I’m sure Lewis can help me back to my desk.”
I frowned. “You’re going to stay and keep working?”
Wouldn’t it be better for her to go home and rest her foot?
She looked at the physiotherapist. “Unless Lewis says I shouldn’t.”
He glanced from her to me and caught on to the tension between us, if the slight tightening of his features was anything to go by.
“If you use another chair to elevate your foot, I see no reason you can’t stay.
Of course, rest is always beneficial, but if you don’t plan on running around the stadium, you should get plenty of that as it is. ”
“I’ll be at my desk for the remainder of the afternoon,” she assured him, crossing her heart. “No need to worry.”
Lewis turned to me. “Then she’s right; you might as well head to the gym.”
With a sigh, I scanned Chelsey one last time to make sure no new injuries had manifested and strode to the door. I paused, my hand on the doorframe. “Text me if you need help getting around.”
She didn’t agree, but she didn’t shoot me down either, so I took that as a win and made my way back into the main stadium. I circled the edge of the rink, passing Kim and one of the documentary crew’s camerawomen.
“I know the hockey players are strong,” a female voice said, slightly hushed but loud enough for me to make out every word, “but I didn’t realize they were that strong.”
I froze, my muscles immediately becoming rigid. My jaw clenched and a low fury simmered in my gut as I slowly turned toward them. It felt like I’d been plunged into that moment years ago when Cory had insulted Chelsey and I’d just stood there and said nothing.
Except this time, I wasn’t about to let her down again.
By now, both women had stopped talking. Kim’s lips were twisted with distaste, and the other woman’s eyes were round, her hand covering her lips.
I marched over to them and stopped a few yards away. Yes, I was mad, but I didn’t want to physically intimidate someone who was much smaller than me.
“That better not have been a comment about her weight.” I snarled, ready to defend Chelsey’s honor. “Because that would be unacceptable, especially with you here in a professional capacity.”
She squeaked and backed up a step.
“We expect you to behave like professionals,” I growled out, knowing I was probably making a scene but unable to stop myself.
Hopefully, I wasn’t about to cause the kind of trouble the team had been trying so hard to avoid.
“Chelsey is perfect. She’s beautiful exactly how she is, and if you—or anyone—imply anything else, we’re going to have a problem. ”
The woman lowered her hand, her cheeks splotchy and red. “I d-didn’t mean anything by it. I could have said the same thing about anyone. Lifting a whole person isn’t as easy as you made it seem.”
“That better be all there is to it,” I growled.
Someone grabbed my arm and I tried to tear it away from them, but their hold on me was firm.
“Matt.” The voice was low and urgent.
I snapped around, coming up short when it was Drew standing less than a foot from me, gripping me like he was prepared for me to take a swing at him. After the way I’d goaded him the other day, I wouldn’t be surprised, but he didn’t look like he was eager for a confrontation.
His dark green eyes locked on mine. “Going off on the doc crew is a bad fucking idea.”
I was tempted to say I didn’t care. I didn’t care what anyone said or did; I was going to defend Chelsey no matter what.
But yeah, yelling at members of the crew filming a documentary about the team because the commissioner had mandated it probably wasn’t the best idea for my ongoing job security. Or for the team’s future.
“She said something about Chelsey,” I muttered, needing him to understand.
He pointed somewhere off to the side. “You mean, that Chelsey?”
I glanced over and realized that at some point, Chelsey had emerged from the examination room and was using a crutch to make her way toward the stairs. Fuck, I hoped she hadn’t overheard any of this.
“I don’t think she heard anything,” Drew said, as if reading my thoughts. “But if you make any more of a scene than you already have, she’s going to find out what was said about her.”
I blew out a rough breath, frustrated. I didn’t like it, but he was right.
The camerawoman’s comment had been in passing, and there was little chance it ever would have gotten back to Chelsey if I’d kept on walking.
Unfortunately, now that I’d drawn attention to the situation, there was a higher likelihood of her somehow hearing about it.
I forced myself to relax, so that if anyone looked this way, they wouldn’t realize how close I’d come to losing it. “Thanks, Drew.”
Drew’s eyebrows flew up. “No problem. Just please don’t make me have to be the voice of reason again. It doesn’t come naturally.”
I jerked my chin at him. “Sure. You hitting the gym?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too. Let’s go.”
I didn’t look at Kim or the other woman as we left.
If I had, I’d have either gotten mad or maybe felt a little bit guilty about mouthing off at them.
It was possible she’d meant the comment as she’d said, but I was never going to sit back ever again if I thought there was a chance that someone was talking shit about Chelsey.
Drew and I spotted each other on the weights, encouraging each other to lift heavier and go harder. My muscles burned and quivered with exertion, but no matter how hard I made myself work, it wasn’t enough to quiet my mind.
The thing was, it had been easy to defend Chelsey. I hadn’t had the slightest hesitation before standing up for her and, even if I’d been a little bit aggressive about it, I didn’t regret doing so.
That only made me angrier at myself. If it was so easy, why couldn’t I have just done that years ago instead of fucking up and losing her?