Page 37 of Playoff

It’s different for me.

I didn’t get involved with hockey professionally until college, and even then, I hadn’t been sure this was the direction I was heading. I wanted to pursue sports training opportunities, and my first job fell into my lap, but working for an NHL team happened by accident.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, watching my face.

“I don’t know that they’ll give me the job,” I admit. “I’m young and female and, in the grand scheme of things, inexperienced. I was planning to get my master’s and work under you for another four or five years… this means they’ll bring in someone new and?—”

“Not necessarily,” he interrupts. “Not if you prove yourself to them during the playoffs. I’ve heard really good things about how you’re doing.”

“You have?” I’m startled because I didn’t think anyone was reporting to him about me.

“Sure. And Harper reached out, asking if I thought you could handle it.”

I hadn’t considered that either.

It was naïve of me, in retrospect, but it makes sense.

Of course, she would reach out to him.

He’s the team’s head trainer, even if he’s recovering from a heart attack.

“I’m doing everything I can,” I say. “Harper and I talked and she seems happy with the job I’m doing. It’s a lot, though. I’m exhausted every night.”

“Now imagine being thirty years older and doing it,” he says. “That’s why I’m thinking of retiring. I just…” He shakes his head. “Well, I wanted to retire on my terms, not because of a damn heart attack.”

“Don’t make any rash decisions,” I say “Seriously. I’ve read about a ton of men who retire too early and then die. I think a lot of men need a purpose. Sitting home and staring at the walls all day, not having somewhere to go or anything to do, will bore you to death.”

“I think so too.” Our eyes meet and I see the conflict in his.

“Take your time,” I say finally. “You’re not coming back for the playoffs, so you’ll have the whole summer to see how you feel, get back into shape. And I’m good either way.”

“If I come back, it would probably only be for a couple of years,” he says slowly. “Are you okay with that?’

“I was counting on five,” I say, chuckling, “but I’ll take two. You’re the best trainer I’ve ever worked with—and I want to learn everything I possibly can so I make you proud when you do retire.”

“You already are,” he says. “I don’t know many people your age who could step up the way you did. And you saved my life. I don’t know if I’ve properly thanked you for that.”

“You don’t have to. It’s my job, and more than that, you’re my friend. What was I going to do? Sit there and watch you die?”

“You could have asked someone else to get my meds.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. Those pansy-ass hockey players? They were all worried about their phones. Someone had to take charge.” I’m joking, trying to lighten up the conversation, and he chuckles.

“Well, there’s that.”

“I can do the job,” I say after a moment. “Like, during games, I know what they need and I’m confident about helping if and when something happens. It’s the rest of the time that I second-guess myself. I still have so many questions…”

“I’m always here,” he says. “And frankly, if you needed to call me a few times a week to get some ideas, it would go a long way toward alleviating my boredom.”

I smile. “It would go a long way toward alleviating some of my anxiety too. I know everyone is watching, almost like they’re waiting for me to screw up.”

“You’re not going to screw up. I have complete confidence in you. I mean, how would you screw up anyway? You know the job, you know the guys, and you know how we do things. Sure, any new injury can potentially bring up new issues, but you’ve got the training and you’ve been with me for three years.”

“It’s been odd with so many new guys on the team, and I think a few guys have some whiplash-type injuries going on that they’re playing through. But they’re not saying anything. I can tell Canyon is hurting a little, and Ivan came back way too soon.”

“That’s hockey, though. This isn’t the first or tenth time a player—or a whole team of players—pushed through an injury. Just keep doing what you’re doing. I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would impact your job. Unless you sleep with one of the guys.”

“Wh-what?” I stare at him in horror. Had someone seen Blake and I almost kiss last night? Jesus fucking Christ.

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