CHAPTER 6
COMPLICATIONS
***
Lauren
Morning sun filters through the clouds as I arrive at the arena, a mix of happiness and contentment coursing through me. A healthy dose of soreness spreads throughout my body. It’s been a while since I’ve used some of my more intimate muscles. But it’s a lovely ache, a reminder of the night Granger and I spent together.
The last two nights with Granger were everything I never dreamed they could be–intense, tender, and undeniably panty-melting hot. My heart races with the memory of his touch, his whispered words meant for only me, and how he looked at me, making me feel like a goddess. We connected in a way that’s been elusive to me so far. I’ve never felt more cherished by anyone in my life.
Yet, despite the happiness bubbling inside me, a twinge of anxiety lurks beneath the surface. The weight of what we did– many times over –and the potential personal and professional fallout weigh heavy on my conscience.
We were careful this morning, leaving in separate cars and staggering our arrival to the arena so no one would suspect we were together. Though the damn smile I can’t seem to wipe off my heat-flushed face is a dead giveaway that I’m floating on air.
I allow the warm after-glow to settle in, leaving me feeling alive, on fire, and filled with renewed energy I didn’t think possible with so little sleep. It’s amazing what a pick-me-up it is to share a deep connection with someone. It makes sense that patients with the best disposition are those who are surrounded by loved ones.
I float through the arena halls toward the medical office, light as a feather and full of tingles. I can’t help but smile, knowing Granger and I share a private secret, one that’s only for us––for now, that is. I can’t keep my feelings for the man a secret forever, but I can hold onto it until the time is right.
I glance into the locker room and briefly stop at the doorway. Players are in various states of undress, changing for practice. Therapists work on a few men, stretching muscles and giving rubdowns while Daniel and Dr. Evans check on healing wounds. When my eyes land on Granger, a rush of heat bursts in my chest. He’s shirtless and flawlessly handsome except for the stitches on his shoulder.
Aside from the time we spent in bed and talking until the wee hours of the morning, it’s a good thing we ran into each other at the store. His stitches were hardly adequate for the gash. It’s no wonder they popped with hardly any exertion on his part. But we sure rigorously tested the heck out of the stitches I replaced them with.
I stifle a giggle.
“Hey, little sister.” Zach startles me from behind. “This isn’t a peep show,” he teases before striding past me.
“Pffft... You wish.” I roll my eyes. I see nothing but a room full of rowdy men getting ready for another day on the playground.”
“Yeah, but we get paid to play all day,” Zach teases back, flashing me his million-dollar smile.
He’s been in a much better mood since he and Madison got together. I’m glad they both saw past their differences and buried the hatchet. They’re good for each other. Now, I need to convince him of the same thing concerning Granger and me. Granger and I are different in many ways, but isn’t that what yin and yang are all about? One person compensates for what the other lacks and vice versa. Kind of like what Granger was talking about the other night–balancing the scale, only he’s balancing a scale of fairness and justice, standing up in the face of brutality.
“Where’d you get those stitches?” Daniel gruffs at Granger.
I flinch at Daniel’s tone. My eyes dart to Granger as Daniel stands over him, checking the wound. “These are not my stitches.”
“No, they’re better.” Granger glares at Daniel as the room quiets to a dull rumble. “Your two measly stitches popped.”
“Impossible... unless you got into an altercation after the game.” Daniel’s voice is laced with sarcasm and disdain. He glances over his shoulder at Dr. Evans, whose interest has been piqued.
“Let’s have a look, Granger.” Dr. Evans crosses the room.
“It was barely anything. The cut wasn’t even that big,” Daniel stammers. “A bandage would have sufficed.”
My heart pounds against my chest as I watch the scene unfold. The elation of the weekend drains from my body, and the urge to launch into protective mode and defend Granger weighs heavy on my heart. My hands tremble slightly as I sense the scrutiny Granger must feel with all eyes in the room on him.
The warm bubble of our time together dissipates, quickly overshadowed by the cold realization that our secret is on the precipice of being revealed in the worst way possible.
“Stitches look good. If these aren’t Daniel’s, then you must have some explanation.” Dr. Evans eyes Granger. “You know the protocol, Granger. Unless there’s a medical emergency, you’re supposed to call for the team doctor on call. If you were in a bar fight or something else, we need to get ahead of the media on this before your father gets a call.”
Granger’s jaw tightens as he tilts his head and cracks his neck. I’ve seen him do it enough times on the ice to know he’s near his breaking point. There’s no way he’d take a swing at Dr. Evan’s, but Daniel? Maybe, considering the botched job Daniel did on his shoulder. But the fact that Granger’s father is being held over his head causes me to break my silence. There’s too much water under the bridge there, and someone... I ...need to stand up for Granger this time.
“I stitched him up,” I blurt out in desperation. “Granger wasn’t fighting. I saw the stitches.” My eyes dart from Granger to Daniel before falling on Dr. Evans. “They were loose and inadequate for the cut.”
“And how exactly did you have access to the tools necessary to mend the stitches?” Dr. Evans raises an eyebrow, skepticism etches on his face. “You aren’t supposed to be here after hours, Lauren. Nor do you have the clearance to perform this type of medical care.”
I exchange a nervous glance with Zach, and my heart falls to the pit of my stomach. I’ve ruined everything. Zach folds his arms over his chest and straightens his stance. He’s always been bigger and taller than me, but right, now he looms larger than life, making me feel inadequate and small. No matter what, I’ll take the heat for Zach, for Granger, for all of this.
“I have supplies from nursing school at my house,” I say.
A heavy silence falls over the locker room. Guilt floods through me as I hold Zach’s gaze, knowing I’ve disappointed him on so many levels. My stomach twists into knots. Zach put his trust in me to be a professional. Now that trust hangs in the balance, the weight of it presses against my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
I’ve jeopardized my future and the unbreakable bond we share as siblings. The fear of losing his respect and the potential fallout from my actions loom large. I can only hope that, somehow, he’ll understand.
Before the situation escalates further, Coach walks into the room, clapping his hands, oblivious to what’s unfolding. “Everyone on the ice for practice. We’ve got a big game against the Predators, and I need everyone’s focus today.”
Granger shoots me a brief, appreciative look as he heads out. If the only good thing that comes out of this is Granger knowing I’ll fight for him and take his side, then so be it. I have his back.
“Lauren, in my office,” Dr. Evans commands. “I’d like a word in private.”
I’m sorry , I mouth to Zach, feeling helpless to salvage the situation. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He unfolds his arms and places a firm hand on my shoulder as he sighs.
“You went out on a limb for me, and I screwed up,” I say quickly, my heart heavy. “This is my fault.”
“I don’t care that you patched someone up. You’ve doctored me for years. I just wish you’d used better judgment,” Zach says. “Granger knows better. He’s the one I have an issue with.”
“This isn’t his fault either,” I counter quickly as Zach turns. I grab his arm, my voice barely a whisper for privacy. “I invited him to my house. That’s my business. I care about him. He isn’t the bad guy everyone makes him out to be.”
“What are you saying?” Zach whips his head around, his eyes dark with anger. “Did he—did you two—?
“He’s your best friend,” I say, pleading with my eyes. “Please give him a chance. For me.”
***
Granger
Daniel’s lack of professionalism and unwillingness to admit to his shabby handiwork make my blood boil. I clench my jaw, trying to keep my cool, but it’s hard when he can’t be objective, laying the blame at my feet. He’s too biased to consider the possibility that he’s a shoddy physician’s assistant. Like everyone else, he assumes the worst about me.
When Lauren interrupts, her words hit me with a surprising amount of relief. It isn’t often that someone stands up for me, especially not in front of the team. For a moment, my frustration ebbs, and something I’ve rarely experienced settles in my heart–acceptance. But it comes at a cost for Lauren. Her internship and future career are at stake. I don’t take that lightly.
Nor do I take Zach’s stern stare lightly. He isn’t easily riled, but there’s no mistaking the anger in his eyes as he looks my way.
When he first joined the team, he was green behind the ears. I did my father’s bidding and showed him the ropes. Turns out he’s a fast learner and an all-around great guy, more eager to please than I am. We’re more than teammates. We’ve been the best of friends since day one. The problem is that it also means he knows all my faults and shortcomings. Convincing him that Lauren isn’t some passing fancy will be an uphill battle.
I lock eyes with Lauren one last time before heading out of the locker room, silently promising that this isn’t over. I won’t let her take the blame for something that wasn’t her fault. Everything’s unraveling because of me and my inability to patiently wait things out.
Today’s practice is much like any other, except for the underlying unease. Zach’s agitated, which isn’t usually his style. His usual patience is strained. He barks orders with an edge in his voice that cuts through the cold air like a razor.
“Granger, move your feet faster. You’re dragging ass out there,” he yells, his voice laced with frustration and anger. “Come on, pick up the pace.”
I grit my teeth, pushing myself harder, but no matter what I do, it isn’t enough. Zach keeps picking at me, singling me out, finding fault with every move I make. I try to cut him some slack, wondering how I’d feel if someone with my past made a move on my sister.
“That’s sloppy, Granger. Keep your stick on the ice.” He yells when I slip up on an easy shot. “What the hell are you doing?”
He’s relentless. My anger bubbles beneath the surface, nearing the boiling point. This isn’t about my playing. It’s personal and unfair even under the circumstances. His tone grates on me, a reminder of every time my father expected perfection, every time he dismissed my efforts. Zach’s words add gasoline to a fire that’s smoldered for ages.
Coach blows the whistle for a five-minute break. I lower my head and catch my breath, trying to keep my temper in check.
“Get your head in the game, Granger.” Zach stops abruptly, sending a puff of ice particles across my skates. His brows furrow as he gestures emphatically at my chest. “You’re here to win games. Keep your focus.”
“I’m running drills just as hard as the next guy,” I seethe. “Get out of my face.”
“If you’d keep your temper in check and stay away from my sister, I wouldn’t be in your face.” Zach’s jaw tightens, his eyes blazing with anger. “Stay away from Lauren. She has a future ahead of her. You’ll only screw it up.”
The accusation stings more than I’d like to admit. Loyalty to his family comes first, but that doesn’t soften the blow. Despite our friendship, he doesn’t trust me. I’m an unapologetic horndog with a hot temper. That’s two strikes against me. He thinks I’m not good enough for her. And maybe he’s right, but hearing it outright makes my blood boil.
“You think I’d hurt her? That this is just a game for me?” I snap back, my voice low, edged with anger.
“You’re a distraction she doesn’t need, and the team doesn’t need,” He spits the words, fierce and threatening.
His words cut deep, feeding into my worst fears about myself. But they also ignite a firestorm of protectiveness. I care about Lauren, him, and this team more than he knows. The implication that I’m not good enough, that I’m bad for her, for the team I defend and protect every time we hit the ice, pushes me to the brink. I’m not the sum total of every mistake I’ve ever made.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spit out through clenched teeth. We stand toe to toe, on the brink of blows. “She means something to me. I won’t back down.”
“If she means so much to you, then you know she doesn’t need to get caught up in your mess.” Zach puffs his chest out, nearly brushing against mine.
He’s trying to get a rise out of me, but I won’t prove him right. I won’t succumb to the urge to fight this battle with my fists.
“Get out of my face,” I growl, standing my ground.
“Stay the hell away from her.” Zach leans into me, bumping against my chest. “I won’t tell you again.”
“Then what are you going to do, punch me?” I pop my neck and bump against his chest, knocking him back a few inches.
“Don’t tempt me.” He bumps back.
My blood boils, and I snap. I lunge at him, knocking him to the ground. Zach recovers quickly and scrambles to his feet. He rushes at me with a fierceness in his eyes I’ve only ever seen once, when a Predator started talking trash about Madison, Zach’s girlfriend, in the middle of a close game. No one judged him for starting that fight––not like they do me.
We grapple, shoving and swinging at each other. I lose my bucket, and then the gloves come off. I throw a right jab to his face, knocking him back. He lurches forward and cuts across my jaw, hammering me with his fist. Teammates surround us, grabbing at our arms, pulling us apart, but tempers flare, and we both fight back.
Graves and Donte pin my arms and drag me off of Zach. Barrett blocks Zach from lunging at me while Conrad guards him with an arm hooked around the crook of his elbow.
“Enough.” Coach blows his whistle. His voice is gruff and filled with anger. “Everyone in the locker room, now.” He pauses and points at the two of us. “You two–pick this shit up on the double.”
I yank away from Graves and Donte as I catch my breath. I’m still angry, but it’s lost its edge. Zach glares at me, huffing to catch his breath.
“You’ll never change.” Zach turns his back to me and begins clearing the ice of facemasks, gloves, and gear.
The familiar feeling of failure prickles in my gut. This isn’t just about Lauren anymore. It’s about proving that I’m more than the image everyone has of me. I owe it to Lauren, Zach, and my team. Most of all, I owe it to myself.