Page 77 of The Sin Bin

"By the way," Kim added, attempting nonchalance and failing spectacularly, "there were three different calls today asking if you'd consider being interviewed about the 'players and pets' initiative. Something about a feature in the program for the next home game?"

Lauren blinked, surprised. "Did they leave contact information?"

"On your desk," Kim confirmed. "And..." she hesitated, then plunged ahead, "I hope you don't mind, but I checked your social media followers for the clinic. They've tripled since that first interview aired. The new service dog fundraiser post has more engagement than anything we've ever shared."

Lauren processed this unexpected development. The increased visibility for the clinic and the service dog program was undeniably positive, but the reason behind it—her personal relationship—left her with mixed feelings.

"Thanks for letting me know," she said finally. "Have a good night, Kim."

When she arrived home, she found Jax stretched out on her couch, watching hockey. He looked up as she entered, a smile warming his features in a way that still made her heart skip despite its growing familiarity.

"Successful surgery?" he asked, setting aside the remote and rising to greet her.

"Six healthy puppies despite some complications," Lauren confirmed, leaning down to kiss him. "Thank you for the sandwich and tea. I finished them driving home. That was incredibly thoughtful."

"Figured you'd be hungry."

"How are the ribs?" she asked, noting the careful way he had risen from the couch.

"Better with treatment," he assured her, though she didn't miss his slight wince as he rotated his torso. "Medical cleared me for full practice tomorrow."

Lauren raised a skeptical eyebrow, her professional assessment at odds with his casual dismissal. "Let me see," she requested, her tone gentle but firm.

After a moment's hesitation, Jax complied, lifting his henley to reveal an impressive bruise spreading across his left side, the deep purple and blue stark against his skin.

"That's what 'better' looks like?" Lauren asked dryly, professional concern overriding romantic sensibilities as she carefully examined the injury.

"You should have seen it this morning," Jax replied with a small smile that didn't fully mask his discomfort as her fingers gently explored the bruised area. "Medical says it's superficial. Nothing broken, just spectacular coloring."

Lauren shook her head, medical training warring with the recognition that hockey players operated under different standards of physical wellbeing than most rational humans. "Ice/heat rotation," she instructed, pulling his shirt back down. "And I'm guessing you're underselling the pain level to medical just like you're trying to do with me."

Surprise flashed in Jax's eyes—followed by a rueful acknowledgment that she'd read him accurately. "Playoffs," he said simply. "Everyone's playing through something."

"That doesn't make it sensible," Lauren countered, though she tempered her concern with understanding. "But I get it. Just be careful."

"Not in my line of work."

"So what do we do about this media attention?" she asked, changing subjects as they settled on the couch.

Jax nodded, his expression sobering. "PR is monitoring it. Stephanie says ignoring it is the best approach. If we react, it just feeds the story."

"It's just..." Lauren frowned, searching for words. "I'm not used to being public property. I help animals, I run a clinic. I don't have people making up hashtags about my love life."

"Welcome to my world," Jax said with a hint of apology. "It comes with the territory in pro sports. But I can talk to Stephanie about running interference if it bothers you."

"The clinic's social media has tripled in followers," Lauren admitted. "And the service dog program fundraiser is getting more attention. I just don't know how I feel about it coming from... us, rather than the work itself."

"Would it help to know that the team's community relations department says the service dog program is now their most successful initiative? Apparently having a 'humanizing element'—that would be me—has increased donations by 200%."

Lauren looked at him, caught between frustration and amusement. "So you're saying our relationship is good for business?"

"I'm saying maybe some good can come from the attention, even if it feels invasive," Jax replied, his hand finding hers. "But I get it. I've had years to adjust to the fishbowl. It's new for you."

Lauren sighed, leaning against him. "I'm not even sure why it bothers me so much. It's not like I have anything to hide."

"It's the lack of control," Jax said, surprising her with his insight. "You're used to managing your life, your clinic, your schedule. Public attention doesn't respect boundaries."

She looked at him, struck by his understanding. "Yes. Exactly that."

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