Chapter 3
Cory
I’m going to go back to the clinic even though my leg’s fine. Well, it’s not fine. But it’s getting a lot better. I’ve been putting in a lot of effort to treat it right. Doing everything I’m supposed to. I know the drill. I haven’t been through it myself before, but I’ve been around so many guys who have. And I always knew that if it happened to me, I’d do it right. Hockey is my life. I’ve worked way too hard to get where I am. Nothing’s going to stop me now.
I’m not going to risk my brand new career for something as simple and stupid as a common physical injury. Getting injured isn’t that bad. Where you have to watch out is if you don’t treat your recovery right. And then if you get hit again, that’s where it can really get serious if things haven’t healed properly the first time around. That’s when an injury becomes a weak spot. And I have no weakness. I train hard. Always have. My determination has gotten me to where I am today. No injury is going to stop me.
If I didn’t take care of myself in every possible way, I wouldn’t be where I am today. They don’t call me The Core for nothing. I get to the core of everything I do. If I’m into something, I go all into whatever the task is. Right now I’m going to do everything I can to make sure I’m fully healed before I get back out on the ice. And I love being out on the ice.
There’s nothing in the world quite like the feeling of being in an arena and playing to win. I love it all. The competition. The skill. The chance to push myself farther in every single game. To reach new levels of skill. To score better and higher. To beat someone who was once better than me. It’s a thrill like no other. And I can’t get enough of it.
Even if I didn’t make it up to pro, I’d play the game no matter what. All the money and fame and other bonuses are just that. Bonuses. It’s not that I don’t enjoy them. That’s not it at all. The game is everything. Everything else is icing on the cake. Icing that I definitely enjoy.
There are so many women who are into hockey players. I have so many choices after each and every game. Hell, I even have my pick after practices, never mind the big games. There’s regular group that likes to come around. I call them loyal fans and they kind of are. A lot of them are into the game too. But every single one is way more into the players. I only ever go home alone if I want to. Which almost never happens.
Except for lately. It’s been hard to manage, but this injury is the priority now. I’m not gonna take any chances. I can lay off the sex for a while. Not for very long. But long enough to heal completely.
So I’m off to the clinic today. Everything’s progressing well and I could get by without coming in. But I want to make sure. It’s the beginning of the season. I don’t want to start off on a bad foot. Or bad leg, as the case may be.
I grab my jacket and head out. The clinic’s not too far from my place. As I drive along, my mind drifts back to the nurse who treated me last time.
Okay, it’s not the first time that’s happened. For some reason, I’ve been thinking about her pretty much every day since we met. There’s something about her. She’s hot, sure. But there’s something else too.
I can’t quite put my finger on it. I don’t think I have a type. I’m open to all kinds physically. But I’m attracted to her in a way I haven’t felt before.
I don’t really think about many of the women I sleep with after we’re done. They know the deal. Even the ones on the home turf. They know what it’s about. Sex and nothing else. I’m not looking for relationship. Most of the guys on the team aren’t. Everyone else involved knows what it’s all about. Sex. No strings. No dating. And certainly no relationships. That’s all we want. Any of my teammates who want a relationship are already in one. There are a couple of guys who are married. But they’re definitely in the minority.
Especially when we’re traveling, everything is very clear. And if it’s not, it gets cleared up pretty quick. I don’t stay in touch with anyone once I’m gone. One and done. I like my life the way it is.
Play hard and play hard. On the ice and off of it.
It’s a great life. Better than even I expected it to be, and I had very high hopes when I started out. I’ve wanted this my whole life. Even when my parents urged me to have a backup career, because not everyone makes it. I didn’t listen to them. I always knew it was a long shot. And I knew they meant well. I get where they’re coming from.
Thing is, I also knew I’d make it. That sounds arrogant as hell. Maybe it is. But I’ve never been more certain of anything else in my life.
Besides, I was right.
Here I am. Successful. Wealthy. Lots of no strings sex whenever I want. But more than all of that, I get to do what I love all of the time.
How many people can say that about their job? No idea, but probably not that many.
When I’m not playing for the team and when we’re not travelling around for away games, I’m still playing hockey. And hell, sometimes even when we are. Whether it’s a pro game that’s going to lead us to the playoffs or a pre-season showcase that doesn’t mean much, I’m out there.
Actually some of the most fun I have these days is just messing around with a pickup game. There’s a few guys like me on the team. We go to a local rink and drop a puck whenever we have a chance. Purely for fun. Of course we’re all still competitive as hell, but it’s friendly. We always keep it friendly.
That’s been the hardest part of this injury. Sitting out on all of those games. The casual, friendly ones. Hell, I normally even play street hockey with some of the kids in my block sometimes. Once those kids got over the awe and excitement of playing with one of their heroes, someone they never thought they’d even meet in real life, they really loosened up.
Some of my teammates think I’m crazy for doing that. They really believe that we should separate ourselves, so the kids keep us up on a pedestal or something. But for me, I can’t see it that way. I remember all those years ago in my childhood when I was out playing street hockey myself, all that time after the rinks were closed and it was before the lakes were frozen. If one of my idols had offered to play with me and my friends, I would have been so far beyond excited.
It’s a great way to learn, sure. But the thrill of meeting your idol? Nothing in the world can compare to that. It would’ve been insanely inspirational if that had happened to me as a child. So I want to pay it forward. Those kids that have dreams of going pro? They’re the ones that have the same dreams that I did. Everything I can do to keep them on that track is great.
There’s nothing I’d change about my life right now, other than this injury. But that’s a minor thing. I’ve got it under control. Except that ever since my clinic visit, I can’t stop thinking about her.
Sarah. Pretty name. Pretty smile. Pretty woman. I can’t quite put my finger on it. But I can’t stop thinking about her. I don’t know what it is. I want to ask her out.
That doesn’t sound like a big deal, I know. But it is for me. I can’t even remember the last time I went out on a real date. I haven’t had a relationship of any kind since I went pro. There’s no point to it. I’m having fun. This is what I want. I can’t see settling down. Not anytime soon, if ever. It’s not what I want.
Yet I can’t remember feeling like this about someone before. Not ever. It’s throwing me off my game. I want to be with her. I want to get to know her. I want to sleep with her, of course.
And somehow, it’s more than that too. Pro hockey isn’t the greatest profession to be in, not if you want a stable relationship. So I’ve never seen the point of getting into one. Maybe someday in the future when I retire. Still, no one I’ve slept with has turned my head like Sarah.
I don’t get it. But I’m not going to overthink it. I’ll see what it’s like when I see her today. She’s at the clinic already. I know because I called up the other day to find out when she’s working this week. Maybe that’s stalkery, but I don’t think so. I want to see her, so I’m going to make it happen. She’s there today. So now I will be too.
The clinic isn’t too busy when I arrive, but I don’t see Sarah. I’m not familiar with the nurse who takes me into the examination room.
“Is Sarah free?” I flash her my winning smile. “I’d like to say hello.”
“I think she’s with a patient now, but I can let her know you’re here. What’s your name?”
She hasn’t recognized me. She doesn’t know who I am. It’s refreshing in a way. To be anonymous. Sometimes being recognized almost everywhere I go becomes a chore. I’m not regretting fame. No way. But sometimes, you just want a little privacy.
“Cory.”
“I’ll let her know.” She heads off and I lean back against it the bed, folding my hands behind my head and stretching out. My eyes have fallen closed while I’m waiting and I’m drifting off into a half sleep when the door eventually opens.
It’s Sarah. And there’s her smile again. The one I can’t stop thinking about.
“Mr. Reynolds.”
“Sarah. It’s great to see you again.”
She doesn’t respond, turning her head down to look over my chart instead. But just before she does, I catch her smile again. I guess she doesn’t get a lot of patients being nice to her. Or being happy about being back at the clinic.
“How’s your leg doing? Any changes since last time?”
I give her a brief explanation. All the while I’m stealing glances at her as she makes notes in my chart. There’s not too much to report.
She looks up at me when she’s done. “That’s great progress. Have you started physical therapy yet?”
“No. Well, I’ve signed up. But my sessions don’t start until next week. I’ve been taking good care of it so far myself, wouldn’t you say?”
“It seems to be in pretty good shape. So it’s up to you. I don’t think you need it right away if you really don’t want to do it. And I don’t think you need to come back again. Of course, the doctor will give you the final word on that.”
“I’m sure he will.” I sit upright and pull the leg of my shorts up. “Do you have any advice on what I can do to keep from scarring up?”
She comes closer to me to take a look. “It should heal up fine. But if you want to make sure, try using petroleum jelly. It’s helped out a number of my patients before.”
“Great. Thanks for the rec.”
“Do you have any other questions?” She’s closing the chart and getting ready to leave.
“Just one. Sarah, would you like to have dinner with me? I’d like to get to know you better.”
She blinks, clearly caught off guard. It’s not what she expected, of course. This isn’t the best setting for it, here in the clinic. But I’m not going to wait and dance around the subject. Go behind her back and try to get her number. That’s not my style. I’m pretty confident. I don’t get turned down.
And yet, she hasn’t answered me.
What’s that about?
A couple moments have already passed. The shock of being asked out by a patient must’ve worn off by now. So why isn’t she saying yes? A flash of self-doubt shoots through me. Is she trying to think of a way to turn me down nicely? That’s never happened to me before. I can’t imagine why it might be happening now. What the hell? Women always jump at the chance to go out with me.
Why isn’t Sarah?