Page 39 of Not A Chance

“Don’t play with me, Indie,” I growled. I was about to burst into flames.

“What exactly are you going to do about it?” She tilted her head as if she was truly curious.

She had me there. I couldn’t say what I wanted. Nothing I could say at that moment would make her dump Andrews and jump into my arms.

Jump into my arms?Where had that thought come from? Did I want a real relationship with her? Holy fuck, I did.

What I didn’t want was simple: Andrews or any other asshole putting his hands on her. I knew logically I couldn’t say that out loud either, so I held my tongue. Biting back my words, literally, I was sure I tasted blood.

“I’m going back to bed. See you on the bus.” She gave me her back as she moved to unlock her door.

With my body and brain at a complete disconnect, she slipped through her now unlocked door, and I heard the dead bolt click before I could say anything further.

Shit. I couldn’t believe her nerve. I’d always known she was a force to be reckoned with, but she’d always been quiet around me. I’d never been on the receiving end like this.

God, I loved that fire she had. Even if it meant losing this round.

Like any good competitor, I was going to have to go back to the drawing board.

I needed a new game plan where Indie was concerned. Screw the Cup. I’d spend the rest of the season playing for something much more elusive and valuable: her heart.

Unfortunately, my first stop back in Toronto was not Indie’s front door to enact my yet-unthought-of plan to date the hell out of her.

“How’s the pain been?” The question was accompanied by the sounds of paperwork being shuffled within a file folder.

Dr. Isabel Kaya, the team doctor, eyed me suspiciously. Her tone was serious but not unkind. Based on her highly respected career, first with Team Canada and now in the last decade with NHL teams across the country, she was more than capable of cutting through any bullshit a cocky hockey player might bring into her office.

“Better lately. The TENS therapy has helped.” The half-truth spilled from my lips without hesitation.

I kept eye contact with her so she could see how honest I was being. It wasn’t a lie. Dr. Kaya had been working with me since I joined the team on some noninvasive pain relief for my knees. It might have only made a minor difference in the pain itself, but that wasn’t what she’d asked.

“Hmm, okay. Is the pain still a three out of ten most days?” She raised an eyebrow, appearing skeptical of my truthfulness.

The pain was closer to a four on a non-game day and a solid six or seven by the middle of the last period most nights.

Dr. Kaya narrowed her eyes, and she dropped her volume. “Listen, Theo, I know you’re an integral part of the team’s chances to make it into the postseason this year, but not at the expense of your health, okay?”

I nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard her. She was one of the good ones. In the past few months in our appointments, she’d never made me feel like a commodity or that she was putting the team’s interest before mine.

“I also don’t need to remind you that it is your right to seek a second opinion outside the league’s medical staff. And that those results would be kept confidential without impacting your position on the team?” She eyed me carefully.

“Yep.” This wasn’t a road I was going down today. I also didn’t mention that I’d already seen two other orthopedic surgeons back in Vancouver, and both had recommended knee surgery sooner than later.

Until I knew what I wanted for my future career-wise, I wasn’t going to be put on the injured reserve if this was my last season in the league. Season-ending surgery was not on my Christmas wish list either.

Both options filled me with the same amount of dread since they both were equivalent to failure: failing my team and coaches, failing head office, who’d signed me in good faith for this season, and potentially ending a career I’d prided myself on a sour note.

“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m doing okay.” I gave her what I hoped was a charming wink. I didn’t turn on my charm often, but I knew how to play the game when it counted. And I wanted her to sign off onme playing tonight.

“Don’t think you can bat those pretty eyelashes at me and get your way,” she said and laughed.

“I would never, Dr. Kaya!” I put my hand on my chest as if I was shocked by her comment.

She rolled her eyes at me and wrote something down on my chart.

“So… I’m good to go, right?” I was already sliding off the exam table and grabbing my hoodie.

Tucking the chart under her arm, she moved to the door and opened it. To our surprise, Indie was on the other side with her hand raised to knock.

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