Chapter 11
Bianca
We’d flown into Boston and just had our first game with the Enforcers earlier tonight, and I’d noticed Evan was favoring his shoulder even more than usual.
I’d spent the last half hour convincing myself that athletic trainers checked on players all the time, and that this visit was nothing more than purely professional, even if it was almost midnight.
I’d been standing in the hallway outside Evan’s room for almost a minute, my medical bag clutched in one hand, as I raised the other to knock on the door.
I’d been behind the bench, and I’d watched him the entire game.
I’d made a mental note of every wince, every moment he reached for his shoulder when he was off the ice, and every pass he’d missed.
It shocked me that my father or Cooper hadn’t noticed.
He was getting worse, and that was why I’d come down here.
It had nothing to do with the fact that I hadn’t been able to get the look on his face out of my mind from Friday night.
How he lingered in the hallway after we’d gotten home, gently smiling at me after he’d delivered me to the door of my bedroom after he’d saved me.
I lifted my arm, knocking on the door before I’d chickened out or before someone came down the hall and wondered what I was doing.
I was about to turn away when I heard movement and footsteps on the other side of the door, followed by a muttered curse.
The door opened and Evan stood there, shirtless, his gray sweatpants riding low enough on his hips I could see the vee, his dark hair still damp from his shower. A scene I’d seen a thousand times in the past weeks.
“It’s almost midnight, Alan.”
“I know what time it is. I…I watched you during the game,” I said, keeping my voice controlled.
“Yeah, we won. You saw me playing well,” Evan said.
“I saw you compensating. Let me look at your shoulder.”
“My shoulder is fine.”
“Callahan…”
“I said it’s fine,” he said, wincing as he lifted his arm to run his hand through his hair. “Thank you for your concern, but I need nothing.”
“The look on your face there was really convincing. Two minutes, Evan.”
“If it will make you go away, then you’ve got two minutes.”
He opened the door, stepping back, allowing me to pass him.
I walked into his room, suddenly aware of the limited space and the intimacy of the room.
I scanned the room — the beige walls, the horrible art, the king bed that was already turned down, a perfect mirrored image of my room a few floors down.
I set my bag down on the desk, then I heard the door click shut.
I focused on what I was doing, not on the fact I was alone with him and that he was shirtless and I could see every defined muscle across his back, or that he was wearing those sexy gray sweatpants so low I could see that deeply carved vee.
“So, how long do I have to live?” His voice was light but lined with tension.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself into work mode.
“Sit on the bed so I can check you out. I mean your shoulder, so I can check your shoulder out.”
I caught the hint of a smirk on his lips as he sat down.
“What’s wrong, Alan?” he asked as he took a seat. “Feeling a little turned on.” He chuckled.
I moved over to him, ignoring the fact that my face felt like it was on fire.
“I’m going to palpate the joint.”
“It’s about time you palpated something.”
I could feel him watching me, but I ignored him, focusing on his shoulder.
“Just tell me if anything hurts.”
I stepped between his knees, a place I stood for proper examination, yet tonight this felt different.
I placed my hand on his shoulder, my fingers finding the spots I’d memorized in school, spots I’d examined on him weeks ago, only now his skin felt even hotter than before, making me instantly aware of the inflammation.
I pressed into a couple of spots, feeling him tense.
“I need you to relax,” I murmured.
I took in the tightness in his jaw as he looked up at me.
“It’s a little hard when…”
I stood there waiting for him to finish.
“When what?”
“Nothing. Do what you need to do.”
I explored the joint carefully, feeling the heat and swelling, and now checking for any structural abnormalities.
His shoulder was a disaster, much worse than it had been before.
Everything felt irritated, and unless I was off my game, I was certain I felt signs of a rotator cuff tear.
I wanted to kick myself; he should have been in treatment months ago.
“Jesus, Callahan.”
“What?” He flinched.
“You’ve been playing like this?” I questioned, looking down into his face.
When he didn’t answer, I took in a deep breath.
“At least allow me to help you. We can work outside of the official channels, if it’s the only way you’ll allow.”
“Why? Why do you care so much?”
“It’s my job, and I enjoy helping people.”
“That’s a pile of bullshit if I’ve ever heard one.”
I felt him take hold of my arm, and I looked down to see his thumb tracing a circle on the inside of my wrist.
“Bianca, we both know this stopped being just a job a long time ago.”
“Callahan…” I choked out as he stood up.
Evan turned to me, cupping my jaw and tilting my face toward his.
“It’s Evan…When we are alone like this, you call me Evan, just like you do when we are at home.”
Our eyes locked.
“You’re wrong, this is about my job,” I choked.
“No, maybe at first it was, but now, you’re after me for different reasons. Like you, I did some digging. You told me you were dating Marcus Grant in secret when he had been injured and I read that he—”
“Whoa, this has nothing to do with Marcus.”
“It does. He was in your life, you wanted to help him, to save him, but he pushed you away, just like I’m doing. I know you’re attracted me, just like I am to you, and you hate seeing someone in pain, especially someone who you know you can help.”
He brushed his thumb over my cheek, looking at me, reading me, and all I could do was look away, to hide the truth he already knew.
“Evan…we shouldn’t…”
“I know. Your father will kill me,” he whispered, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “The team would lose their minds. It’s unprofessional and complicated and probably the worst idea that either of us ever had.”
“Then why?” I questioned as his thumb ran over my cheek.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.
” His voice sounded strained, angry. “Because every time you touch me it takes everything I have not to pull you close, and because ever since you moved in, I have spent all of my time trying to convince myself this is just attraction and something I can ignore if I try hard enough. It’s not working. ”
My mind was screaming for me to step away, to maintain our boundaries, and to remember every single reason why this was a horrible idea. Instead, I leaned in because I felt it too.
“Evan…”
He closed the distance between us, his lips finally dancing over mine for the first time.
That first kiss was nothing like I’d imagined it would be, and trust me, I’d imagined it late at night when I’d shut off my professional ethics and I was alone in my room.
I’d pictured something careful, like he’d test the waters a little first, but this wasn’t that.
Our first kiss contained desperation, relief, and weeks of denial that combusted into something uncontrollable.
His mouth moved against mine with an intensity that stole my breath, one hand tangled in my hair while the other gripped my body, pulling me closer, eliminating the last few inches between us.
I felt dizzy as my hands found his bare chest. It was crazy. This was going to be the end of my career. This was…perfect.
I forgot all about his shoulder, all about the reason I’d come here to his room at midnight. All I could focus on was the taste of him, the way his fingers trembled as they traced down my spine, and the small sound he made when I bit his lower lip. I’d never felt anything like this before.
Evan pulled back, his breathing ragged.
“We should stop.”
“I agree,” I whispered, trying to catch my breath. “This is a terrible idea.”
We both stood there, wrapped together, looking into one another’s eyes.
“The worst,” he murmured, groaning as he met my lips again.
His hands found my hips, pulling me fully against him as he fell back onto the mattress. I followed him down, this new position even more intoxicating, his body solid under mine, his mouth trailing from my lips to my jaw, to the sensitive spot just behind my ear.
“God, Bianca…”
The sound of a door opening, followed by the sound of familiar voices in the hallway, shattered the moment between us, and reality came crashing back down.
I was on top of Evan Callahan, my shirt pulled from my jeans, his hands on my hips, his lips on mine, his cock pressed firmly into me, and someone we both knew was in the hallway.
“Oh my god, we can’t…this can’t happen,” I said, pushing myself up off him.
“Bianca, wait a minute,” Evan said, sitting up.
I walked over, shoving things into my bag. If anyone saw me leaving his room at midnight, lips swollen, hair and clothing mussed, my father would find out. The entire team would know by morning, and every ounce of credibility I’d built would be destroyed.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, making my way toward the door.
The moment I placed my hand on the handle, I stopped, looking back at him, remembering the reason I’d come.
“God, right, I suck at my job… Your shoulder. Ice it, twenty on, twenty off. I’ll come up with a treatment plan tonight, but this can’t happen again.”
“Bianca…wait.”
I opened the door without thinking, stepping out into the hallway, and came face to face with Carter McNight, his hand raised to knock on the door across the hall as he stared at me.
I watched as his gaze traveled from my face down to my disheveled clothing, and then he looked past me over my shoulder, his eyebrows lifting slowly and a tiny smirk appearing on his lips.
“Alan, working late?”
“Shoulder treatment. Evan was having some inflammation after tonight’s game. I was just…we were…medical assessment,” I finally spat out.
“Right…medical assessment. At midnight.” He smirked, and I knew he didn’t believe a word of it.
“It’s not…”
I knew there wasn’t a good way to end that sentence, so I stopped. That was when I heard Evan behind me curse softly.
“Nightly. This isn’t what it looks like,” Evan said, his voice tight and controlled.
“Really? Because it looks like the coach’s daughter just left your hotel room at midnight under the guise of medical treatment.”
Carter looked at me, then back at Evan.
“You know what? I’m just fucking with you two. This isn’t my business. You two are adults. I guess you should just be a little more careful about where you conduct your…shoulder treatments,” he said, winking.
The door across the hall opened, and he disappeared into the room, the click of the door loud enough that it felt like a death sentence.
Would Carter talk? If so, there was no doubt in my mind that by breakfast, the entire team would know, and by lunch my father would hear about it.
“Bianca. Come back inside, we need to talk about this,” Evan said, gripping the back of my T-shirt.
I shook my head. “There is nothing to talk about. This was a mistake,” I whispered, imagining just how horrible this was all going to be once word got out.
“Don’t say that.”
“What would you call it? We have zero good options here.”
“What are you saying? We pretend it didn’t happen?” Evan questioned, running his hand through his hair.
I nodded. “That is exactly what we do. We pretend this never happened, and we pray Carter keeps his mouth shut.”
Evan stood there looking at me, his jaw locked.
“What if I don’t want to pretend, Bianca?”
I stood there watching him, thinking about what had happened, about the line we’d crossed. The problem was, it didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt right. It had felt like the beginning of something wonderful. I swallowed hard, doing my best to ignore the ache in my chest.
“One of us has to be smart enough for both of us. Good night, Callahan.”
I took off down the hallway before he could respond.
I knew if I looked at him, I’d change my mind.
My hands shook as I reached out to press the call button for the elevator.
It seemed to take forever for the elevator to reach the floor, and I didn’t want Evan to follow me and demand we finish our conversation.
Yet, I wanted him to.
When the elevator doors finally opened, I stepped inside and turned around to see Evan standing at the end of the hallway, watching me as the doors closed.
When I got to my room, I opened the door, stepped inside, and then closed the door, allowing my body to rest against it.
My lips still tingled from where he’d kissed me, and I could still feel his hands on my body.
I closed my eyes, praying my father wouldn’t hear anything about tonight.
I didn’t want to have to explain how I’d developed feelings for a player and then I’d kissed him.
I felt my phone buzz, and I pulled it from my pocket with shaking hands.
I frowned at the text from an unknown number.
We need to talk before breakfast. ~Evan.
My stomach turned as I closed down the message, only for my phone to buzz again.
It was from Evan again. I’m not sorry this happened. I’ll see you in the hotel restaurant at six. Let me know if you will be there.
I stared at the message. How one simple message could change everything and nothing all at the same time. I should just delete it, tell him to lose my number. Instead, I saved the message and placed my phone on the charger.
I flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
I’d kissed Evan Callahan, and God had better help me, because I wanted to do it again.
I picked up my phone, opened the message Evan had sent, and denied his invitation. It was the only way I’d get any sleep tonight.