Karin Baine

Reforming The Playboy


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embarrassment over an old crush get in the way of a harmonious working relationship.

      In the end she kept her mouth shut because she didn’t trust herself not to blab about her past devotion for him when she was looking into those eyes that had once stared at her from her bedroom wall. Worse, she might go the other way and insult him again so he didn’t realise she was having inappropriate thoughts about him.

      She had to block him out of her sight and focus back on the game, something she’d never had any trouble doing before. Usually it was more a case of not losing herself in the match and making sure she was watching the players for signs of injury. Sometimes separating Dr Michaels from fan-girl Charlie took a great deal of effort.

      The dizzying pace of the players covering the ice was as heart-pumping as it got for her. The hard-hitting alpha males and the danger of the sport had always been like catnip to a girl whose life had become so troubled and lonely. That was probably why she’d been instantly drawn to Hunter the first time she’d attended a game. Everything about him had said danger and excitement.

      It still did.

      The hairs prickled on the back of her neck and she knew Hunter was close again before he even spoke.

      ‘Is there something wrong with Anderson I should know about?’

      The object of his concern was already on her radar, a bit more sluggish than usual, which was worrying when he was their star player.

      ‘He has missed a few training sessions lately, which would account for him being more breathless than usual. His fitness needs working on. I’ll put a word in with Gray, if he hasn’t already picked up on it himself.’ She doubted she’d have to point anything out. Anderson was popping up on everyone’s radar lately with his diva attitude. As top goal scorer they’d let his stroppy behaviour slide but now it was affecting his performance someone was going to have to take him to task.

      ‘Hmm. It looks more serious than that to me.’

      Anderson had been making rookie mistakes all night, getting caught offside and hooking the opposition with his stick in full view of the ref.

      ‘I assure you he’ll get a full physical after the game and if I find any areas for referral I will let you know.’ This was her jurisdiction and it didn’t matter who the new physio was, she was still the medical lead.

      They watched Anderson shoulder-charge everyone out of his path. With the giant chip perched there these days it wasn’t difficult to do.

      ‘And if the problem’s mental, not physical?’ Hunter crossed his arms, his shirt tightening and vacuum-packing his biceps in white cotton.

      ‘Well, it would also be down to me to make that judgement call.’

      Not you. Back off.

      He smirked and shook his head. Charlotte tried to ignore it but he was so far under her skin he’d burrowed right into her bones.

      ‘What?’ she finally snapped, the thought of her past infatuation sneering at her too much to take.

      ‘I get it. You’re the sheriff in this here town and I’m merely your deputy.’ He tipped his imaginary Stetson and she conceded a small smile. Well, it was better than swooning after that image and a Southern drawl double whammy.

      ‘And don’t you forget it.’

      They locked eyes for a second too long, the laughter giving way to something more...serious. She looked away first and let the background game noise fill in the gaps in conversation. Just when it seemed as if they were starting to bond, stupid chemistry, or stupid rejuvenated teenage hormones, tried to turn it into something she didn’t want, or need, in her life.

      Before she was tempted to take another peek at him, a face was mashed into the Perspex in front of her, the violent thud shaking the very ground beneath her feet. The distorted features of a Cobra player slid down the glass, making her wince. She was always conflicted when it came to such territorial displays of male aggression. As a fan, it was a barbaric form of entertainment, watching your team dominate the other. As a medical professional, she understood the physical ramifications of such an impact and as the on-site doctor she’d be called on to treat any injuries caused to the opposition too. That was why she was standing here with her first-aid bag by her feet, for those players who couldn’t shake it off and get back on their feet.

      The shrill peep of the ref’s whistle pierced the air.

      ‘What was that for?’ Charlotte demanded to know, along with most of the crowd rising from their seats as Anderson was reprimanded.

      Hunter flinched. ‘He checked him from behind. That’s gonna cost him time in the penalty box.’

      ‘Oh. I didn’t see that,’ she said, cowed by her own mistake. She knew it was an illegal move because it carried a risk of serious injury but she couldn’t tell him she’d missed it because she’d been busy gawping at him.

      ‘I’m guessing he hoped everyone else had missed it too. Now what’s he doing? He messed up. He should own it and do the time.’ Hunter threw his hands up in despair as Anderson remonstrated with virtually everyone in authority as he made his way to the penalty box.

      His gestures imitated that of a clearly frustrated Gray too as he yelled at his star player from the bench. The coach was a disturbing shade of purple as he fought to control his temper and she made a mental note to check his blood pressure.

      Anderson’s penalty left the Demons short-handed for the dying minutes of the game and Charlotte held her breath with every other fan desperate to keep the dream alive. There were so many bodies in the goal crease as they fought for a victory it was difficult to make out who had possession. Until the klaxon sounded and the red light behind the net flashed, signalling a goal.

      The Demons had defied the odds and claimed a win, sending the crowd into a furore, but Anderson’s mood didn’t improve when the game was over and he left the ice. He stripped off his kit and threw it piece by piece down the tunnel in temper as he clunked past Hunter and Charlotte, unleashing a string of expletives directed at no one in particular.

      Despite his public celebration with the team on the ice after their narrow win, Gray’s demeanour changed too when he approached them. ‘I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Anderson but he needs sorting out before the next game. You two are supposed to be the experts around here. Find out what’s eating him and fix it, or don’t expect to be signing new contracts any time soon.’

      ‘Gray—’ Hunter tried to put a hand on his shoulder in an apparent attempt to calm him down but he shrugged it off.

      ‘I pulled a lot of strings to get you here, Hunter, and I expect a lot in return. I don’t care if you talk to him as an ex-pro, sports physician or a fellow maniac, it’s your job to get him match fit and right now he’s following in your footsteps to career suicide.’

      She could almost hear Hunter’s heart fall into his shiny shoes with a thud as his so-called ally cut him down with a few cruel words. The hand of friendship fell slowly to his side, the pain of rejection chiselled into his furrowed forehead. Her previous disparaging comments aside, she kind of felt sorry for him. His past misdemeanours were always going to be thrown back in his face regardless of his subsequent achievements and acts of repentance.

      ‘There’s really no need for that, Gray.’ She put herself in Hunter’s position for the first time and thought how it might feel to have someone cast up the naivety of her youth. Horrendous. Soul-destroying. Unfair.

      She’d spent a lifetime distancing herself from that person and if he was to be believed, so had Hunter. Switching careers from hockey pro to qualified sports therapist wasn’t something that would’ve happened on a whim. It would’ve taken years of dedication and determination. All of which was being cast aside as if it was nothing because someone was in a bad mood. Or because someone was deflecting the shame of their own past.

      Gray held his hand up to stop her. ‘It goes for you too, Charlie. Fair or not, I need results. I’m sure