Reforming the Playboy

by Karin Baine

  Each time the lights fell on his face for a split second she could see his eyes trained on the ice waiting, watching for that puck to drop. As intense as he’d always been.

  A shiver danced its way along her spine as she recalled those past games when she’d found it difficult to watch anything other than him on the ice. It wouldn’t do to regress to that sort of infatuation again and for once she should follow his example and get her head in the game. Although he perhaps wasn’t as single-minded about tonight as he’d led her to believe. She’d caught sight of him waving to someone in the crowd. Someone who’d made him smile. Not that she was jealous. She pitied him really that he couldn’t be alone in his own company for five minutes without the need to hook up with a woman.

  The single life suited her and she believed she was stronger without a partner to fret over. Between her and the apparently lovestruck Hunter she knew she’d be the one giving her all to the team without distractions. Not everyone would put the Demons first in their life the way she did, but it was concerning he had other priorities already. They didn’t need any more drama behind the scenes and if he really was serious about being part of the squad he ought to be focusing somewhere other than the contents of his trousers. It gave credence to the notion he was only back here for Hunter Torrance’s benefit, not the Demons’. She doubted he’d be willing to put in the overtime or go the extra mile the way she did if he had other pursuits outside working hours.

  The first two periods of play were relatively uneventful, with both sides playing it safe and focusing on defence, so there were high hopes and expectations for the third period. Especially when the Demons had several near misses, with more attempts on goal than their opponents.

  ‘Come on, guys.’ Hunter’s booming voice and the thump of his hands clapping as he willed the Demons to score didn’t make it easy for Charlotte to concentrate on what was going on inside the rink instead of the decoration around it.

  ‘You must miss this.’ She hadn’t meant to say it aloud when they’d seen the rest of the game out in virtual silence but he was so involved, animated on behalf of the team, it occurred to her how hard it probably was to no longer be part of the action. He’d skated on this very ice, played for this very team, and seen out the last days of his career here. She’d only been a fan so her position was akin to a lottery win in some aspects while his could be seen as a demotion, standing on the sidelines now.

  The roar of outrage from around the arena after a high stick incident against one of their players drowned out her observation.

  ‘What’s that?’ Hunter didn’t take his eyes off the play but leaned down so he could hear her better.

  She swallowed. This wasn’t supposed to be a thing, it was simply her mouth opening before she’d realised. Now he was standing so close to her she could almost feel the rasp of his stubble against her cheek.

  ‘I...er...was just saying you must miss this.’ It sounded so feeble the second time around it really wasn’t worth repeating.

  Of course he missed it. Hockey had been his career, his life at one time. It had been a stupid thing to say, right up there with the people who asked her if she missed her mother. Duh. Generally not unless someone brought her up and made Charlotte realise how incomplete her life was without her in it. Now she’d done the same thing to him.

  ‘Sorry. I should be following the game too, not chatting.’

  For the first time since face-off he focused his full attention on her, his eyes bright and his smile wide. Enough to make her stop breathing.

  ‘I do miss it. However, as has been pointed out to me, I’m probably more of a hindrance than an asset to the team these days.’ His mischief-making brought the heat to her cheeks, and everywhere else.

  To all intents and purposes he was the team’s new signing, doing his best to fit in, and she’d acted the superior know-it-all, making life difficult for him. She didn’t know this man yet she’d made preconceived judgements and behaved accordingly when he’d been nothing but friendly in the face of her childishness. For someone who was all about equal rights in the workplace she knew she wouldn’t have been so forgiving if a colleague had been so awful to her for no apparent reason. A little teasing in return wasn’t something she should complain about.

  For a second she thought about apologising. The truth was, he was an asset. He’d treated all those on the injury list the way any experienced physiotherapist would have. She’d checked. It was her, letting her personal embarrassment over an old crush get in the way of a harmonious working relationship.

  In the end she kept her mouth shut because she didn’t trust herself not to blab about her past devotion for him when she was looking into those eyes that had once stared at her from her bedroom wall. Worse, she might go the other way and insult him again so he didn’t realise she was having inappropriate thoughts about him.

  She had to block him out of her sight and focus back on the game, something she’d never had any trouble doing before. Usually it was more a case of not losing herself in the match and making sure she was watching the players for signs of injury. Sometimes separating Dr Michaels from fan-girl Charlie took a great deal of effort.

  The dizzying pace of the players covering the ice was as heart-pumping as it got for her. The hard-hitting alpha males and the danger of the sport had always been like catnip to a girl whose life had become so troubled and lonely. That was probably why she’d been instantly drawn to Hunter the first time she’d attended a game. Everything about him had said danger and excitement.

  It still did.

  The hairs prickled on the back of her neck and she knew Hunter was close again before he even spoke.

  ‘Is there something wrong with Anderson I should know about?’

  The object of his concern was already on her radar, a bit more sluggish than usual, which was worrying when he was their star player.

  ‘He has missed a few training sessions lately, which would account for him being more breathless than usual. His fitness needs working on. I’ll put a word in with Gray, if he hasn’t already picked up on it himself.’ She doubted she’d have to point anything out. Anderson was popping up on everyone’s radar lately with his diva attitude. As top goal scorer they’d let his stroppy behaviour slide but now it was affecting his performance someone was going to have to take him to task.

  ‘Hmm. It looks more serious than that to me.’

  Anderson had been making rookie mistakes all night, getting caught offside and hooking the opposition with his stick in full view of the ref.

  ‘I assure you he’ll get a full physical after the game and if I find any areas for referral I will let you know.’ This was her jurisdiction and it didn’t matter who the new physio was, she was still the medical lead.

  They watched Anderson shoulder-charge everyone out of his path. With the giant chip perched there these days it wasn’t difficult to do.

  ‘And if the problem’s mental, not physical?’ Hunter crossed his arms, his shirt tightening and vacuum-packing his biceps in white cotton.

  ‘Well, it would also be down to me to make that judgement call.’

  Not you. Back off.

  He smirked and shook his head. Charlotte tried to ignore it but he was so far under her skin he’d burrowed right into her bones.

  ‘What?’ she finally snapped, the thought of her past infatuation sneering at her too much to take.

  ‘I get it. You’re the sheriff in this here town and I’m merely your deputy.’ He tipped his imaginary Stetson and she conceded a small smile. Well, it was better than swooning after that image and a Southern drawl double whammy.

  ‘And don’t you forget it.’

  They locked eyes for a second too long, the laughter giving way to something more...serious. She looked away first and let the background game noise fill in the gaps in conversation. Just when it seemed as
if they were starting to bond, stupid chemistry, or stupid rejuvenated teenage hormones, tried to turn it into something she didn’t want, or need, in her life.

  Before she was tempted to take another peek at him, a face was mashed into the Perspex in front of her, the violent thud shaking the very ground beneath her feet. The distorted features of a Cobra player slid down the glass, making her wince. She was always conflicted when it came to such territorial displays of male aggression. As a fan, it was a barbaric form of entertainment, watching your team dominate the other. As a medical professional, she understood the physical ramifications of such an impact and as the on-site doctor she’d be called on to treat any injuries caused to the opposition too. That was why she was standing here with her first-aid bag by her feet, for those players who couldn’t shake it off and get back on their feet.

  The shrill peep of the ref’s whistle pierced the air.

  ‘What was that for?’ Charlotte demanded to know, along with most of the crowd rising from their seats as Anderson was reprimanded.

  Hunter flinched. ‘He checked him from behind. That’s gonna cost him time in the penalty box.’

  ‘Oh. I didn’t see that,’ she said, cowed by her own mistake. She knew it was an illegal move because it carried a risk of serious injury but she couldn’t tell him she’d missed it because she’d been busy gawping at him.

  ‘I’m guessing he hoped everyone else had missed it too. Now what’s he doing? He messed up. He should own it and do the time.’ Hunter threw his hands up in despair as Anderson remonstrated with virtually everyone in authority as he made his way to the penalty box.

  His gestures imitated that of a clearly frustrated Gray too as he yelled at his star player from the bench. The coach was a disturbing shade of purple as he fought to control his temper and she made a mental note to check his blood pressure.

  Anderson’s penalty left the Demons short-handed for the dying minutes of the game and Charlotte held her breath with every other fan desperate to keep the dream alive. There were so many bodies in the goal crease as they fought for a victory it was difficult to make out who had possession. Until the klaxon sounded and the red light behind the net flashed, signalling a goal.

  The Demons had defied the odds and claimed a win, sending the crowd into a furore, but Anderson’s mood didn’t improve when the game was over and he left the ice. He stripped off his kit and threw it piece by piece down the tunnel in temper as he clunked past Hunter and Charlotte, unleashing a string of expletives directed at no one in particular.

  Despite his public celebration with the team on the ice after their narrow win, Gray’s demeanour changed too when he approached them. ‘I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Anderson but he needs sorting out before the next game. You two are supposed to be the experts around here. Find out what’s eating him and fix it, or don’t expect to be signing new contracts any time soon.’

  ‘Gray—’ Hunter tried to put a hand on his shoulder in an apparent attempt to calm him down but he shrugged it off.

  ‘I pulled a lot of strings to get you here, Hunter, and I expect a lot in return. I don’t care if you talk to him as an ex-pro, sports physician or a fellow maniac, it’s your job to get him match fit and right now he’s following in your footsteps to career suicide.’

  She could almost hear Hunter’s heart fall into his shiny shoes with a thud as his so-called ally cut him down with a few cruel words. The hand of friendship fell slowly to his side, the pain of rejection chiselled into his furrowed forehead. Her previous disparaging comments aside, she kind of felt sorry for him. His past misdemeanours were always going to be thrown back in his face regardless of his subsequent achievements and acts of repentance.

  ‘There’s really no need for that, Gray.’ She put herself in Hunter’s position for the first time and thought how it might feel to have someone cast up the naivety of her youth. Horrendous. Soul-destroying. Unfair.

  She’d spent a lifetime distancing herself from that person and if he was to be believed, so had Hunter. Switching careers from hockey pro to qualified sports therapist wasn’t something that would’ve happened on a whim. It would’ve taken years of dedication and determination. All of which was being cast aside as if it was nothing because someone was in a bad mood. Or because someone was deflecting the shame of their own past.

  Gray held his hand up to stop her. ‘It goes for you too, Charlie. Fair or not, I need results. I’m sure you can come up with a diagnosis and treatment plan between the two of you. After all, that’s what you’re here for.’ With that, he spun on his heel and powered towards the changing room.

  She lifted an abandoned puck from the ground and tossed it in her hand, tempted to lob it in his general direction. Two could let temper get the better of them.

  Hunter caught it in mid-air. ‘You don’t want to do anything you might live to regret, Charlotte.’ That serious face said he was speaking from painful experience. One he’d never be allowed to forget.

  She let her aggression subside with a sigh, partly due to his voice of reason and perhaps because he’d used her name for the first time. Everyone here called her Charlie, in keeping with her efforts to remain one of the guys. Her full name, in that accent, made her feel positively girly. Even in her game night layers of fleece and comfort.

  ‘He’d no right to say any of those things. At least, not the personal stuff. I guess he’s kind of right about the reason we’re here. He just didn’t have to be so rude about it,’ she huffed on his behalf, since he seemed determined not to rise to it. Not so long ago she imagined he wouldn’t have thought twice about charging down there after him and duking it out.

  Perhaps he had changed. Perhaps he did deserve to have someone give him the benefit of the doubt. Then again, if his one friend here couldn’t let go of the past and fully trust him, why should she?

  Hunter shrugged, those broad shoulders refusing to carry any more baggage upon them. ‘He’s right. He did call in a lot of favours for me. I owe him big time.’ Either he had really matured or he was putting on an award-winning performance to dupe her into thinking he had. Especially when she was the one chomping at the bit to retaliate.

  She had to remind herself he didn’t owe her anything personally; there was nothing to be gained in convincing her he was anyone but himself, except to prove his commitment to the job.

  ‘So what do we do?’ Stitches and concussion she could deal with. A burly hockey player with his finger on the self-destruct button was out of her comfort zone.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to step on your toes...’ He held up his hands in mock surrender to her self-appointed superiority.

  ‘Okay, okay. If I have to tackle an irate man twice my size, I could use the backup.’

  And because Gray had said so.

  ‘We can’t do anything until we’ve seen to everyone else. We’re going to have our work cut out for us back there, after that last scrum especially.’

  ‘Then what? The chances Anderson is waiting patiently back there for counselling, treatment or another rollicking are slim to none.’

  They had no clue what was ailing him and from her experience thus far, hockey players were stubborn about admitting any weakness. There was definitely more of an ‘I can tough it out’ attitude to injury than she was used to from other athletes. It made her job that much more difficult when those niggling pains turned into something more serious left untreated.

  If it was some sort of chronic or traumatic acute injury sometimes it could mean the end of a career. In which case, Anderson would be even less inclined to admit there was a problem. Male pride could be a terrible affliction if left unchecked.

  ‘You heard Gray. We have to find him.’

  She let out her breath in a huff, which may or may not have had to do with his continual glances into the crowd.

  ‘Unless the Demons have taken to track
ing their players, how on earth are we going to do that?’ By the time they finished up here he could be anywhere. It would be dark, and she would be more than a bit cheesed off with the whole drama. Especially when she was expected to do it with Mr Torrance and that brought him much too close for comfort.

  ‘If I know my hockey players, and the heart of any Northern Irish town, there’s only one place Anderson will be sitting his time out. Let’s hit the pub.’

  If she didn’t love her job so much she would’ve left him to it but these were still her players, her patients, her team, and she wasn’t afraid of dropping the gloves herself to fight. It wasn’t only the Demons’ honour at stake here.

  * * *

  Not only was Gray frothing at the mouth despite the result but Hunter was struggling to find those feel-good endorphins too. It was his son’s first match, the first time he’d seen his father’s team in action, if not playing himself, and he hadn’t been able to share it with him.

  ‘Sorry I couldn’t sit with you tonight, bud.’ He managed to catch Alfie and his grandparents before they disappeared out of the arena and into the night.

  ‘That’s okay. Maybe we can come again?’ He glanced up at his guardians with the same hope Hunter was still clinging to.

  ‘We’re coming to the end of the season now but perhaps I could bring Alfie for a tour behind the scenes some time?’ It was a big ask, he knew, but if he was to win over his son he had to start fighting for time alone with him.

  Alfie’s face lit up but his grandmother shut down the notion of any unauthorised trips with a stern ‘We’ll see’.

  The light began to dim again before flaring back to life. ‘Maybe Dad could come back with us for supper?’

  It was the first time Alfie had called him Dad and it choked Hunter up that he was even starting to think of him in that role. It killed him to have to let him down.