Knotted by the Hockey Goalie

1. Kallis

Kallis

“Ahockey team?” I ask coldly, staring at the small booklet clutched in my hands which holds a picture of the Golden Bears logo grinning at me from the page.

“It’ll be perfect!” Aspen says from her office chair directly in front of me, her smile as equally wide as the yellow and brown cartoon grizzly. She’s my mentor-turned-best friend, and we’ve known each other since I became an intern at Philadelphia General hospital fourteen years ago.

Aspen is known to be kooky, and I trust her judgment in absolutely everything, but this is the first time I’ve genuinely questioned her sanity.

“I don’t understand why you’re giving me this when I’m here to talk about the job opening,” I say.

Aspen is silent as she twists her lips, and my stab of disappointment is instant. My hands tighten around the pamphlet. I try to keep myself contained despite the bitterness swelling inside me.

Aspen is a gorgeous female alpha with wiry black curls that shake as she talks.

She wears a bright orange suit underneath her doctor’s coat, with a pair of matching amber earrings and a chunky necklace.

Just her presence is enough to stop me from quickly descending into insidious thoughts, but I still have to ask.

“Is it because I’m an omega?” My voice is too sharp; I can’t hide my hurt.

I control my honey scent and my heats with suppressants, but there are still people who judge me for my designation, no matter my achievements.

“What!? No! Bee, listen, you’re only thirty-three.”

She calls me ‘Bee’ because of my scent and the fact that I’m ‘always busy and buzzing around’. I used to dislike it, but she was never discouraged when I asked her to stop, and now it’s special to me, a sign of our friendship.

“My age shouldn’t have anything to do with it, either.”

“Every other chief of staff in the hospital is at least forty, with two decades of experience under their belts. Yeah, you’re one of the best surgeons we have at Philadelphia General right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re Chief of Neuroscience material.

So why don’t you take a break for a bit?

You’ve just finished your fellowship, and you’ve been locked in pretty much since you left your dad’s place and started working here.

That’s why this is such a great idea!” Her positive energy blooms with her tart cherry scent even though she’s just dashed the goal I’ve been working toward for years.

My parents are both doctors, though they specialize in different fields.

My mom is a world-famous plastic surgeon, while my dad performs highly specific surgeries on incredibly rare conditions with the highest success rate in the US.

I was raised in Manhattan, and they both worked non-stop during my childhood, so there was no way I could have escaped joining the medical field.

And I’m determined to outshine them both.

So the next step is becoming a hospital director by the time I’m forty.

Dad achieved it at forty-five, but his was a small-town hospital that was understaffed and overworked. If I could become the director of one of the biggest hospitals in Pennsylvania, they would have to admit that I outdid them. And then maybe my parents will finally leave me alone.

“So why did you hand me this pamphlet?” I glance at it again.

“Because instead of getting all mopey about the fact that you’re a hardcore overachiever, let’s strategize about how we can get you to the top faster!”

“And that involves a hockey team?” I ask, raising a brow.

“Hell yeah, it does! Look, hubby’s been looking for new members for the medical crew, and they’ve got an opening that’s bang on the money.”

Her partner is the coach for the Golden Bears, and she’s been trying to wrangle me into coming to a game for years.

I always side-stepped her because Aurum, where their rink is located, is at least a three-hour drive from our hospital.

I work as much as I can to earn points with my superiors, and I don’t have time for things like that.

Aspen was the most supportive mentor I could have had during my internship and further stages, and I believe she has my best interests at heart. But I can’t see how leaving the neuroscience department for a hockey team will contribute to my goal.

As alphas, Aspen and her husband are considered a power couple, and I admire how comfortable they are with not following the traditional route of finding an omega and having children. Their careers and their own happiness are their priorities, and I want the same for myself.

“Aspen, I’m sorry. There is no possible way a hockey team can compare to open brain surgery,” I say. I know alphas can be ferocious on the ice, at least from how Aspen describes it. But I can’t imagine their medical team has beautiful, clean operating rooms and all the tools I love.

Despite the fact that we’re both 6ft tall and incredibly capable, Aspen’s designation gives her a natural advantage when it comes to tackling alphas in environments such as the ER.

But I adore the focus and precision that is required with carefully planned operations and mid-surgery complications in a secure setting.

Working in the ER was a sensory overload for me, and, from what little I know of hockey games, it would end up being the same thing.

“Okay, fair.” Aspen nods, gliding closer to me on her wheely chair.

“But, did you ever think about how, if there’s anything The Board loves more than money, it’s hockey?

Especially the Bears. Just trust me, if you apply for the Head of Neuroscience position with a season of working for them under your belt, you’ll be an absolute shoo-in. ”

“Whether I’m a shoo-in or not shouldn’t have to depend on my relationship to sports. How will working there benefit me? I’ll be stuck patching up bruised knees and bloody noses for however many months.”

“It’s either that, or use your parents’ influence to get ahead.”

I freeze as I picture my dad’s face and his sneer if I asked him for help.

I’ll never be able to free myself from their influence if I have to use it to prop myself up.

It’s difficult enough hiding my relationship with them from my coworkers.

I shudder as I think about how bad it would become if I’d applied to any job as Kallis Ranger instead of Kallis Tully.

I stare into the cheerful, soulless eyes of the smiling Golden Bear, silently asking him how he can help me.

“Look, Bee, you’re a wonderful person when people actually get to know you. It’s just… Er… How do I say this…” Aspen grimaces as I narrow my eyes at her.

“Speak,” I say, my words clipped, dreading whatever is coming next.

She clears her throat. “You’ve never exactly been great with people. Your bedside manner is… um… an acquired taste.” She chuckles. “I swear, at least once a week, I see one of your patients trying to escape. Or, as they say, thankful that you’re so fast when it comes to assessing them.”

I may have a slight issue where everything I say or do comes off as angry simply because I’m either focused or nervous. It’s a habit I haven’t been able to break since I was a teenager. My closest friends call me awkward. I prefer the term efficient.

I do attempt to be sociable with patients, but there isn’t time for pleasantries when I always have so much work to do.

“What does that have to do with working for a hockey team?” I ask, my voice cold. I’m not annoyed; it’s more that I want Aspen to make her point.

“Well, it’ll also give you valuable management skills that you can’t get in your department. You’ll manage a multi-skilled team of people, and you can learn things from them such as physiotherapy, nutrition, and trauma care.”

“Why would I need other skills for that job?” Even though it sounds tempting.

I wasn’t just forced into medicine by my family; it’s my passion as well.

The residency and fellowship system makes us specialize in one aspect of the medical field, but anything new piques my interest. That’s why I love neuroscience so much, because something unexpected always emerges with patients, since there is still so much unknown about the brain.

“The director’s job isn’t just about being good in your specific field and running the hospital. It’s also about politics, and you are the least politically inclined person I know.”

I open my mouth to argue, but I have to stop myself. Aspen is not wrong; relationships aren’t my priority, but it hasn’t been a problem before. I have a small group of friends in the hospital, and that’s enough for me.

“And hockey is politics?” I ask.

“It is if you want to get ahead. If you spend enough time with the team and learn their names, their playing styles, and have experiences with them that you can use as anecdotes, the Board will love you.” Her chair creaks as she leans forward, her elbows on her knees.

“Think of it this way: the Bears play three or four times a week, and there are at least a few minor injuries per game, at most, so you’ll have tons of free time for self-study.

You get to travel around the country with them, and you might even be able to secure the Head of Neuroscience position in the next few years just because hockey is such a big deal in the state. ”

“I would rather spend my life slicing open skulls than endure any amount of time around alphas whose only redeeming quality is to be able to hit a rubber disk with a stick.”

Aspen sighs as she sits up straight again.

“Okay, have you heard of CTE? Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy? It’s a pressing issue in high-impact sports right now, but the data for ice hockey is still lacking.

If you kickstart a project with the Bears tracking the brain patterns of the youngest players to see how head injuries affect them over a set time period and the difference between those who are bonded and unbonded, it would give the Board further incentive to back you with this important research. ”

“That sounds like it would take far more than a single season.”

“Yeah, we can bring someone else in to pick it up after you leave. It’s something the NHL will definitely take notice of as well, which means you could get a shit ton of funding and backing.”

Before I can reply, she plows on. “Your mom and dad brag about all the connections they have, right? How do you think it would be if you showed up to Christmas dinner with a billion-dollar organization sponsoring your research?”

My brow furrows as I look between her and the Golden Bear.

Aspen knows she’s hooked me from the way she brightens, her gaze sparkling as she reaches out and rustles the pamphlet in my hand like that’s supposed to entice me.

I can already sense that if I step in the direction she’s tempting me toward, it won’t simply be a hockey season.

No matter how interesting the CTE research sounds and how dearly I would love to watch my parents’ faces twist with jealousy, this isn’t the journey I planned for myself.

My trajectory has been neat and ordered for as long as I can remember, and the only risks I like taking are in the theater during a surgery.

“And that’s not just a way to extend my tenure beyond a season if I accept?”

Aspen chuckles, biting her lip as she looks at me fondly. “Look, have you ever seen a game in person?” she asks despite knowing the answer.

“No, when would I have time for that?”

“Alright, are you free Friday night? I’ve got two tickets to a Bears home game at their stadium, The Woods. Come with me, watch the game, and then you can decide if they’re worth your time.”