Chapter Three
Brody
I always knew I wanted to go into sports medicine.
I grew up loving sports and wanting to be a doctor. In college, I decided to combine my favorite things, and now, I’m living out my dreams with the Stallions pro hockey team.
Most of the guys on the team are really nice and friendly, but there are a few that I absolutely detest having to deal with.
Dylan is one of those guys.
The massive player is also a gigantic pain in the ass. He’s never really done anything to me worth reporting to HR, but he has this arrogance and rude tone that makes you feel like he’s belittling you when he speaks to you.
Sitting at my desk, Dylan sauntered into the room. Internally, I cringe.
“Good morning, Dylan. You are late,” I say, as a way of greeting.
Apparently, Dylan got into a bar fight last night.
His agent and the team’s PR team managed to keep it out of the press, but he may have some busted knuckles, and now that is my problem to deal with.
Normally, I wouldn’t entertain such an idea, but the coaches and staff here have been good to me, so I agreed.
Dylan ignores my comment and sits in the chair across from my desk. “Can we make this quick? I gotta get to practice.”
I do my best not to roll my eyes and offer a forced smile. “Tell me what’s bothering you today.”
“My hand is a little busted up. I need you to wrap them so I can get to practice,” he grunts out.
Holding out his hands, I see the bruised and cut-up knuckles.
I get to work cleaning his cuts and then wrapping his hands. Once he’s finished, he stands. “Thanks, pretty boy,” he sneered.
I’ve never discussed my sexuality with any of the guys at work. In fact, no one other than my best friend, Jamie, knows that I’m gay. So, how Dylan seems to think these little nicknames are going to bother me is strange.
“Dylan, I love our banter, but can we please remain professional and use our names when conversing?” I ask, trying to keep my anger and sarcasm at bay.
Dylan chuckles to himself. “Sure thing,” he offered, saluting me as he walked out of my office.
I put my head in my hands and sighed. Just then, I heard a rumble of laughter as a group of players walked down the hallway toward the ice rink. One voice causes me to lift my head.
Finn.
Ever since I met him, I’ve thought about him, even though I know that I shouldn’t.
He’s openly gay, which is a huge turn-on, but I’m still hiding who I really am.
I saw Finn walk by the office, and when he glanced inside, he looked right at me and smiled. My heart races and my pulse quickens. Sure, I’ve got a little crush on the new hockey star of the team. Nothing can ever happen, but I can still look.
Right?