Page 9 of Pucking Amazing

My smile starts to strain, but I keep my voice even. “You’re right. I’m still learning about the team dynamics. Could you give me your perspective? I noticed some tension between you and a few other players yesterday, on the ice…”

Mikey’s eyes narrow. “Don’t fucking bother. You think you’re going to waltz in here and get us spilling our deepest, darkest secrets? Fat chance.”

He leans forward, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Let me make this crystal clear—I don’t need your touchy-feely therapy bullshit. You shrinks are all just working out your own problems on our dime, anyway. So, how about you just enjoy your cushy office and leave the real work to us?”

With that, he pushes himself up and storms out, slamming the door so hard it rattles on its hinges.

I slump back in my chair and let out a shaky breath. Holy hell. That stung more than I want to admit.

Mikey’s words hit too close to home, echoing my own fears that I’m just an imposter, that I have no business trying to help these guys, that my own issues are coloring my work.

For a second, I’m back in that terrible place, broken and defeated after what Paul did to me...

No. I give myself a mental shake. I refuse to let myself go there.

Mikey is hurting and lashing out. I could see the barely concealed vulnerability under all that hostility. The desperate desire to prove himself.

He needs my compassion and deserves my best effort, not my misgivings.

I square my shoulders. Mikey just threw down one hell of a gauntlet. But I’ve never been one to back down.

I have some time until my next appointment, so I finish dealing with some computer setup tasks I didn’t finish yesterday. Eventually, my rumbling stomach becomes too loud to ignore, so I leave my office in search of the kitchen where I stashed my sandwich this morning.

Trying to remember which turn to take, I swing around to glance down the hall and nearly stumble back as I collide into DJ’s solid chest.

I catch my balance and look up into his playful eyes, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his perfectly sculpted lips.

“Well hello there, Doctor,” he purrs, his velvety voice sending a shiver down my spine. “Here for a surprise examination? If I’d known I’d be running into you, I would’ve worn my good underwear.”

Heat flushes my cheeks and neck as his shameless flirting catches me off guard once again.

I swallow and will myself to maintain composure, despite the way his chiseled physique and alluring tattoos make my heart race.

“Your underwear, huh?” I raise an eyebrow, attempting to match his playful energy even as butterflies swarm in my stomach. “And what qualifies as ‘good’ underwear for the great DJ Johnston?”

His eyes sparkle with mischief as they travel slowly down my body and back up again, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. My skin prickles with awareness under his appreciative gaze.

“Mmm, maybe you’ll find out someday,” he says suggestively. “If you play your cards right.”

I scoff and roll my eyes, but can’t help the smile playing on my lips. The man is incorrigible.

And damn if his cocky confidence isn’t a major turn-on.

“In your dreams, pretty boy,” I retort, folding my arms. “Some of us are trying to work around here, you know.”

DJ shrugs, but there’s a softness in his eyes that catches me off guard. “Listen, I was thinking...I’d really like to grab a coffee with you sometime. I could fill you in on some of the team dynamics that might be helpful for your work.”

My heart skips a beat at the invitation. Is he asking me on a date? Or just a work meeting? I search his face for clues, but his expression is inscrutable.

“Oh, um, sure...that could be useful,” I hedge, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Great,” he says with a grin, and I can’t help but notice how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. “I’ll email you to set something up.”

His hand brushes against my arm as he steps around me to continue down the hall.

“Sounds good,” I manage, hoping my voice doesn’t betray that I’m flustered. As I watch him walk away, I’m hyper-aware of every flex of his muscles beneath his clothes, the confident set of his broad shoulders.

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