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Her mouth fell open, but that initial look of shock quickly morphed into one that screamed pissed off. What the hell had I done to this woman to warrant her animosity? Had I said something offensive in my stupor last night?
I assessed her again. Gorgeous tits, full hips. That hourglass shape that always drew my eye. Maybe I hit on her. Shit. Pretty eyes, pouty lips. She looked vaguely familiar, but my mind couldn’t make the connection. I hadn’t spent much time with the training staff since I’d played for the Revs, and she was new this year.
All the thinking and trying to connect the dots made my head throb again.
Closing my eyes and letting my shoulders slump, I rubbed at my forehead, willing the ache to dull. Damn, I was tired.
“I’m not guaranteeing ten days.”
Dr. Anderson’s words brought me back to the conversation. I lifted my head and focused on him again.
“Heads are funny sometimes. It can take longer to put them back together again.”
“Right.” Beckett gave a clipped nod. “So it makes sense for him to stay with Miss Humphreys while the team travels this week.”
The second the name left his lips, images flashed through my mind, and everything clicked together.
Humphreys. That was why she seemed so familiar. And furious.
Aurora Humphreys had hated me since high school.
It took everything in me to keep my composure.
One of the reasons I’d wanted to work for Boston’s hockey team—not their baseball team—was because I wanted nothing to do with Mason Dumpty. I had applied to be a trainer for the Boston Bolts, but the Revs had offered me the job. For an instant, I’d considered turning it down, but I would have been an idiot if I did. This job was highly sought after. And with any luck, when a position opened up with the Bolts, I could transfer. But for now, I was stuck with the asshole who still didn’t remember me.
And why would he? I wasn’t anything special to him. I was the one who’d crushed on him in high school while he’d kept me firmly in the friend zone. Except for that one night. I’d been a silly little girl back then, head over heels for a boy who barely noticed me. But never again would I fall for those green eyes and perfect smile.
In the years since high school, I’d fortified my walls. There was no way a man like him could break through them. But that didn’t mean I wanted to be stuck with the jerk for the entire week.
I slammed the car into park, and a second later, Cortney opened the passenger door. He bent his six-foot-six frame almost in half, and his face came into view.
“You sure you’re good with this?”
If I said no, he’d find another solution without argument. All I had to do was play the I’m a female card, and this would all go away. But I was a female in a male dominated industry. It had taken hard work and dedication to get here, and if I couldn’t do all that was asked of me, there was a line of people a mile long waiting to take my place.
Cortney raised a brow and regarded me with a genuinely empathetic expression. “Langfield can be a bossy ass, but if you don’t want to do this, we can ask someone else.”
I glanced over at Mason and Beckett, who were arguing with one another while Beckett pulled a duffel bag out of the back of a large SUV parked a few spots over.
Though my stomach twisted, I sighed and let my shoulders drop. “No, it’s fine.”
For years, I’d dreamed of landing a job as a trainer with a professional sports team. Now that I was here, doing what I loved, I refused to blow it over some old high school crush.
“Okay. But if you have any problems, just call me.” Cortney shuffled back and stood to his full height.
“Pop the trunk,” Beckett demanded as he approached. Once he’d tossed the bag inside, he slammed the trunk and gave it a pat. Then he stepped up beside Cortney on the sidewalk.
Mason eyed me warily as he slowly climbed in and shut the door. “I’m perfectly fine to stay by myself.”
I rolled my eyes as I headed for the road. “Nope. The last thing I want to do is lose my job because the center fielder died of a brain bleed on my watch.”
He huffed and rubbed his head. “The doctor said there was no bleeding, but it’s confusing as heck when everyone else keeps tossing that around.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. At the sight of the uncertainty written all over his face, I was swamped with remorse. With his concussion, he was probably struggling with confusion.
“Do you have a guest room?” he asked before I could apologize. He shifted and pulled on the sling cradling his arm like it was offensive rather than protecting his sore shoulder.
Giving him a load of side-eye, I raised my eyebrow.
