Chapter 16 - June
June
I was absolutely terrified of Elias.
The bearded Swede was huge. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a wingspan made to stop a puck. He had also been mostly silent since I started working for the team, communicating mostly with glares, grunts, and growls. He reminded me of a polar bear that might suddenly snap and maul me to death.
A polar bear with sticks of dynamite in his hands.
I’d known a lot of guys like him. Half the University of Georgia football team were the strong silent type who refused to accept any help and reacted with anger when you tried.
So when Elias actually did come to me and admit he needed help? I understood that it was a massive step forward. The kind of opening I would never get a second chance at.
Thank goodness he apologized. I wasn’t going to budge on that. I didn’t care how intimidating Elias was; I still had self-respect.
Oblique injuries were extremely common, especially in sports that required the body to violently twist. Baseball, tennis, hockey.
I already had a program in mind for him, and I was ready to start immediately.
Fortunately, he didn’t resist. After the shitshow of a game tonight, he probably just wanted to go home.
He tried to appear relaxed, but it was obvious that he was afraid of needles while I gave him the shot of cortisone. I resisted the urge to tease him about it, then told him to change into some workout clothes and meet me in the exercise room.
To his credit, Elias followed my instructions without complaint. He did every single exercise without saying a single word to me. He just nodded. When I tried giving him some encouragement, he gave me a look that said: you don’t need to do that.
“Okay, time for the yoga stretches,” I said when he was done with the weights. “I want you to perform them in front of me the first time, but after tonight you can do them at home.”
“In front of the television,” he said, deadpan.
I tried a smile on him. “Bingo! Let’s start in cat’s pose…”
We were halfway through the stretches when the rest of the team finished their punishment drills and filed into the locker room. Elias’s eyes flared wide with concern as we listened to lockers bang open and players mumbling complaints.
“We can stop here,” I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him off the floor mat. His arm felt like solid steel. “Don’t need the others seeing you doing yoga.”
His eyes met mine, and he gave me a small nod. It wasn’t a verbal thank-you, but I would take whatever I could get.
“I’ll text you the rehab schedule,” I told him. “We’ll do weights three days a week before practice. But I want you doing your stretches every night.”
“Yes,” he said, striding out of the workout room and back through my office to the locker room.
I grinned to myself. Despite losing the game tonight, I’d gotten a much-needed win.
Three new players came to me with aches and pains once Elias was gone. While working with them, Rhett stuck his head into my office and gave me a questioning look.
I slowly shook my head. Not tonight.
He winced, then left looking disappointed.
When I finished massaging the lower back of a defenseman, I quickly texted Rhett before starting on the next guy.
Me: I won’t get out of here for at least an hour, if you can wait until then. I won’t even bring up the fact that you didn’t score any points tonight ;-)
Through the window, I could see Rhett standing at his locker with his back turned to me. He pulled out his phone, read the text message for a few seconds, then put it away without responding.
A few minutes later, he hefted his duffel bag and left the arena.
At first, it didn’t bother me. But as the minutes ticked by while I dug my thumbs into another player’s calf muscle, I grew more annoyed.
It wasn’t my fault I had to stay late. This was my job.
Rhett should have understood that. If anything, their poor performance tonight was the reason we weren’t hooking up!
“Hey, uh, a little lighter pressure?” the player on my table hissed.
I loosened my vice-like grip on his calf. “Sorry.”
By the time I got home after midnight, I was still fuming about the whole thing. So I texted Rhett again.
Me: Are you mad that we didn’t hook up tonight?
Rhett: Kind of. Yeah.
Me: How the hell is that my fault?
Rhett: It’s not your fault. I’m just frustrated at the way this whole day has gone.
Me: Then why are you taking it out on me?
Rhett: I’m not taking it out on you. It has nothing to do with you.
Me: You ignored my text earlier.
Rhett: I didn’t think I needed to respond. You had to work late, so I went home.
Rhett: But you didn’t need to throw tonight’s loss in my face.
Me: What? How did I throw it in your face?
Rhett: You pointed out that I didn’t score any points. Not exactly what I want to hear right after a tough loss.
Me: It was a reference to what we talked about earlier! You wanted to hook up after the game, and I told you only if you scored two points!
Me: You even said “challenge accepted”!
Rhett: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh
Rhett: Fuck. The game was so shitty that I forgot all about that. I thought you were laughing at me for not scoring any points.
Me: You thought I would taunt you after a loss?
Rhett: No! That’s why I was so surprised and pissed off!
Me: I was trying to say that I would fuck you despite the loss! I was trying to make you feel better!
Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Rhett.
“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he said as soon as I answered. “I took your text message the wrong way because I’m in a bad mood. Coach really chewed us out tonight.”
“It’s okay,” I said with a laugh. “I’m glad I texted you when I got home. Otherwise this would be a really dumb misunderstanding.”
“I’ve been seething for the last hour,” Rhett admitted. “I thought you were trying tough love or something. Taunting me for not scoring any points to try to, like, light a fire under me.”
“Why would I do that? I’m just the trainer.”
“Like I said: I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“Do you hear that?” I asked.
“Hear what?”
“That.” I paused for a few seconds. “That’s the sound of me not disagreeing with you. You are a fucking idiot, Rhett.”
He laughed. “Is it too late to invite you over?”
“You missed your chance. I’ve changed into my sweatpants.”
“I like a girl in sweatpants.”
“These aren’t my sexy sweatpants. They’re the ugly, baggy ones with food stains all over them.”
“Do you really think that would stop me from ripping them off your body? You could be wearing a potato sack and I’d still want to fuck you, June.”
I felt myself smile. “That’s nice to hear. But you missed your chance tonight.”
“How about tomorrow night, then? After practice?”
“I have a date with your teammate.”
“Cole’s a Boy Scout,” Rhett replied. “Or whatever the Canadian version of the Boy Scouts is. Your date will end with a kiss on the cheek by nine o’clock. So when that’s done, give me a call and I’ll come over.”
“We’ll see.”
“I still don’t know why you even agreed to go out with him,” he went on. “You’d have a lot more fun going out with me.”
“You’ve never actually asked me out on a date,” I pointed out. “We’ve never even seen each other’s places. We had sex at work.”
“Hell yeah we did,” he said suggestively. “And it was great.”
“It was,” I agreed. “But it’s not the same as a date.”
Rhett made a pained noise. “Here’s the thing. I don’t like dating during the hockey season. We’re busy enough with practice, games, and road trips. Not to mention all the other obligations we have. Publicity appearances and charity work.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “I’m happy to hook up. But I’m still going out with Cole tomorrow night.”
“Fine,” he said. “But the next time we do hook up? I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” I said. “Goodnight, Rhett.”
“Night, June.”
I sighed happily. Between Elias finally opening up to me and asking for help, and Rhett telling me how much he wanted me, my evening had turned out pretty good.
And I couldn’t wait for my date with Cole.