Page 32 of The Boyfriend Zone

Thirty minutes later, I was walking into the College Gym & Training Room, a notepad and recorder in hand.

At the main desk, I asked for Dr. Shaw. The receptionist directed me to his office.

"Mr. Lucas," he greeted me, looking up with mild surprise. "What brings you to the training room on a Saturday morning?"

"Working on a new piece," I explained, settling into the chair he indicated. "Sort of a human interest angle on sports medicine and athlete recovery. I was hoping you might have a few minutes to talk?"

"Certainly," Dr. Shaw set aside his paperwork. "Though I can't discuss specific athletes or their treatment, of course. Medical privacy and all that."

"Of course," I agreed smoothly. "I'm more interested in general practices. For instance, how common are shoulder injuries in hockey?"

Dr. Shaw launched into an informative explanation of the various strains, sprains, and tears common to the sport. I took notes diligently, asking follow-up questions to keep him talking.

"And how do you handle athletes who might not be forthcoming about their injuries?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Hypothetically speaking."

Dr. Shaw chuckled, though there was a note of frustration in it. "Ah, the age-old problem. Athletes, especially at the collegiate level, can be remarkably stubborn about admitting when they're hurt."

"Why is that, do you think?"

"Fear, mostly," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "Particularly in sports like hockey, there's this culture of 'playing through pain' that's glorified as toughness but can lead to serious long-term damage."

"Serious how?" I pressed.

"Well, take shoulder injuries, for instance." Dr. Shaw gestured to an anatomical model on his desk. "What might start as a minor strain can progress to a partial tear, then a complete tear if not properly treated. Recovery from a complete tear can take months, sometimes requiring surgery. And even then, there can be lasting limitations to mobility or strength."

My stomach tightened at the implications for Sean. "That sounds career-threatening."

"It absolutely can be," Dr. Shaw confirmed grimly. "I've seen promising athletes end up with chronic pain and limited function because they didn't address injuries properly from the start. It's a tragedy, especially when it could have been avoided with proper medical intervention."

"So what do you do when you suspect someone is hiding an injury?"

Dr. Shaw sighed. "We observe, we ask questions, we create a safe environment where athletes feel they can be honest without judgment. But at the end of the day, we can't force treatment on someone who refuses to acknowledge there's a problem."

That explained why Sean was still playing despite Dr. Shaw seeming to suspect something was wrong.

"One last question," I said, after covering a few more general topics. "In your experience, what's the best way to help someone who's reluctant to admit they're injured?"

Dr. Shaw considered this thoughtfully. "Patience," he said finally. "Understanding. Making it clear that you're concerned for their well-being, not judging their toughness. Sometimes all it takes is one person they trust saying, 'I see you're hurting, and I'm here when you're ready to talk about it.'"

Later that afternoon, I headed to the rink, where the team was having an informal scrimmage. No coaches, no pressure, just players working on skills and maintaining conditioning between official practices.

I spotted Ava in the stands, her camera equipped with a telephoto lens as she captured action shots for the sports section.

"Stalking your hockey boy again?" she teased as I sat beside her.

"Working," I corrected primly. "Just like you."

"Sure." She clicked through some shots on her camera display. "That's why you've spent the last ten minutes staring at number 28 instead of taking a single note."

I flushed, caught. "I'm concerned about him, that's all."

"I can see why." Ava showed me a close-up shot she'd just taken of Sean wincing after a routine check. "He's definitely nursing something. Right shoulder, looks like."

I nodded, my suspicions confirmed by her unbiased observation. "I just wish he'd trust me enough to talk about it."

"Speaking of trust issues," Ava nodded toward the other end of the stands, where Nate had appeared, camera in hand. "What's he doing here? I thought this was my assignment."

"Probably the same thing I'm doing," I said with a small smile. "Working. Very professionally."

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