Chapter 10
Ash
A few days later, I head down to the guard station at the administrative entrance of the arena and training center to meet Doc Mackey.
The guard just called to tell me she was here, and I snuck out of the locker room while Mack and The Don were having an argument over whether jock itch was a fungal infection or a bacterial one.
It’s not an argument I need to witness, nor one I want to know why they’re having.
I turn the corner and catch sight of the doc waiting by the metal detector.
She told me to call her Gray, but I’m still having trouble getting that to roll off my tongue.
I always called my professors in college “Professor” or “Doctor,” so wrapping my brain around calling her by her first name will take some getting used to.
It also doesn’t help that she’s wearing a suit today, although I notice it looks really good on her.
It’s navy blue and tailored perfectly to her body, so it shows off her curves.
The skirt reaches just above her knees, and she’s wearing a pair of low, red heels that accentuate the arc of perfect calves.
Her hair is tied back in a jaunty ponytail that looks like every hair has been assigned its place and told not to move.
I feel like I’ve met three different Gray Mackeys so far – the frumpy professor, the casual academic, and the consummate professional – and I’m curious to know which is the real one.
“Doc, I mean, Gray,” I say, heading toward her. “Glad you could make it.” I turn to the middle-aged guard she’s been talking to. “I’ll take her from here, Ben.”
“Thanks, Mr. Gunnarsson,” the man says before heading back inside his office. I’ve told him at least twice to call me Ash, but for the first time I understand his reluctance to use my first name.
Ben offered to have someone bring the doc up, but I figured it would be better to come get her and introduce her to everyone gradually, rather than throw her directly into the lion’s den.
I’ll take her up to see the coaching staff first, and afterward I’ll have Kelsier meet us somewhere.
Once I’ve eased her in, I can bring her to see the rest of the guys.
“You look great,” I say. “I like the suit.”
She gives me a small smile. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure what to wear, but I decided business was the way to go.”
She really does look good, and I foresee the guys checking her out. The thought annoys me, until I remember Kingston, and then my insides go downright cold.
Kingston is a notorious playboy, and it’s grudgingly accepted on the team that if he wants a woman, anyone else will step back until either Kingston decides he doesn’t want her anymore, or the woman makes it abundantly clear she doesn’t want him.
I wasn’t here last year, but according to Kelsier, no woman has ever turned him down.
A twinge of fear shimmies up my spine. Goalies can be some of the most squirrely, superstitious players on a hockey team, so other players often go out of their way to keep them happy.
At least, that’s the way it was on most of the teams I played for.
The last thing a team wants is a goalie with the yips.
Kingston is one of the less quirky goalies I’ve played with, but the rumor around the locker room is that he needs to have sex before a game to help him release pent-up energy so he can focus.
I suspect Kingston himself started the rumor, but regardless of its origin, the bottom line is that if Kingston wants a woman, everyone else steps aside.
The thought of letting Kingston have Doc Mackey, even though I’m not interested in her, makes my whole body feel…unsettled.
“We’ll meet the coaches first,” I say as we head toward their offices.
“Great,” she says, smiling politely.
I eye the doc as we walk, trying to decide if she’s pretty enough for Kingston.
She seems to get prettier every time I see her, but Kingston has particular tastes, and I don’t think the doc fits them.
For one, she’s too tall. She’s on the high side of average in height, but most of the women I see Kingston with are tiny.
Really big guys who like especially tiny women never made sense to me. At just under six and a half feet myself, I hate having to stoop or arch my neck too far to kiss a woman. It’s uncomfortable.
The size difference also limits your sexual positions, and I like a little flexibility. Figuratively and literally.
Grace was on the taller side, and that’s one of the things I liked about her. She was also gorgeous, even by Hollywood standards, but it always took a lot of work for her to get ready. She could spend an hour on her makeup alone, and it seemed like such a waste of time to me.
I glance at the doc to see if she’s wearing makeup. It looks like she might have a little on around her eyes, and her lips look glossy, but she’s not wearing anywhere near what Grace used to put on.
I shake myself mentally, not sure why I’m so concerned with how the doc looks. She’s here to help me with my mental game, not audition to be my next girlfriend.
We reach Coach’s office, and I knock.
“Yeah, come in,” he calls from inside, and I open the door. Doc Mackey follows me inside as Coach looks up.
“Coach Davis, this is Dr. Gray Mackey,” I tell him. “She’s the one helping me with my chirping issue.”
Coach stands and shakes hands with the doc.
“Dr. Mackey, nice to meet you,” he says, then gestures to me. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
He’s smiling, but I still grimace. The criticism stings, although it’s not undeserved.
Other than my moment of brilliance in the second period of game one, our opening road trip was a shitshow.
We lost both games, and I think I spent more time in the penalty box the second game than I spent on the ice, which cost us two goals during power plays.
Doc Mackey smiles back at Coach, but it seems forced.
“Well, trash talk has been used for centuries for a reason, Coach Davis,” she says, “and we don’t currently have a viable intervention against it, so it’s going to take some time to find something that works.
I’m sure you didn’t expect Mr. Gunnarsson to be fixed after a couple games, right? ”
The question sounds innocent enough, but I hear the edge to her words. Coach must hear it too because he’s speechless for a moment before he finds his voice.
“No, of course not,” he says with a bit of a laugh.
I’m not sure if the doc’s defense was more for me or for her, but I’m grateful to her for managing Coach’s expectations. More than that, the subtle way she had him on the ropes for a second was…kind of sexy, and now I’m seeing the doc in yet another new light.
Fuck me. I can’t let myself think of her that way.
Most of my frustration in game two was self-directed for not having corrected my issue yet, but Doc Mackey’s words put things in perspective. This isn’t going to be a quick fix, and I have to manage my own expectations as much as Coach needs to manage his.
We chat with Coach a little more before I take the doc in to meet the assistant coaches and the trainers.
Then I text Kelsier to meet us near the weight room.
He’s already there when me and the doc come around the corner a couple minutes later, and I groan inwardly at the shit-eating grin on his face.
I give him a look that begs him not to be an ass.
“Is this the doc I’ve heard so much about?” he says as we approach.
I flash him another warning look that he ignores.
“Doc, uh, Gray, this is Zane Kelsier,” I tell her. “Or Kels as most of us call him. Kels, this is Dr. Gray Mackey.”
Kelsier and the doc shake hands as he grins the entire time.
“Kelsier is one of our defensemen,” I say.
“It’s great to meet you,” the doc says to him. “Ash has mentioned you. It sounds like you’re good friends on the team?”
Kelsier throws an arm around my shoulders, nearly putting me in a head lock. “I’m his best friend,” he tells her.
“For now,” I say, prying him off me. “We’ll see how the rest of the day goes.”
“Tell me, Doc,” Kelsier says, ignoring me, “what kinds of treatments are you using on my boy here to fix his problem? Have you had to start the electroshock therapy yet?”
Doc Mackey smiles at him, and this time it looks genuine. “That would certainly make things easier,” she says, “but unfortunately I’m not licensed to conduct electroshock.”
Kelsier grins wider and leans in. “I won’t tell anyone if you try anyway,” he says in a loud whisper.
She laughs. “Have you played together long? Did you know each other before the Hydra?”
“Nah, we only met a little while ago when Ash joined the team,” Kelsier says. “He kind of latched onto me, and I didn’t have the heart to push him away.”
“Uh…who approached who first?” I ask indignantly.
“Well, I came over to introduce myself first,” Kelsier admits, “but only because you made those lost puppy dog eyes at me, and I can’t resist a stray.” He winks at the doc.
I scoff and roll my eyes. “He’s so full of shit,” I tell her.
“You sound like me and my friend Celena,” she says, smiling.
“Who has she met so far?” Kelsier asks me.
“Just the coaching staff and trainers,” I say. “Where is everyone?”
“Most of the guys are in the locker room getting ready for practice.”
“Is…Kingston there?” I’m not sure how to ask without letting on why I want to know, but Kelsier guesses.
“No, it’s safe,” he says. “The goalies are down on the ice for their own pre-practice.”
The doc looks between us questioningly. “Safe?”
“Kingston can be…hard to deal with sometimes,” Kelsier tells her. “He has what one might call a ‘high maintenance attitude,’ so it might be best to save meeting him for your second visit.”
He’s not wrong, and I’m grateful to Kelsier for giving the doc a reason to steer clear of Kingston. In addition to being a playboy, Kingston can also be an arrogant ass.
The doc’s brows rise at Kelsier’s explanation, but she shrugs. “Alright. Lead the way then.”