Page 1 of Deking at Love
Chapter 1
Crutchy McCrutch
Thedoorswhooshedopen,revealing a hallway bathed in a harsh fluorescent glare.Sam Durbin, the elevator car’s solo occupant, followed the signs, crutching his way toward his destination in the bowels of the arena.
“For fuck’s sake, could they have put it any farther away from the elevator?”he grumbled to himself.
When he reached the door labeled “Physical Therapy,” he paused and stared at the two words.A fresh surge of anger welled inside him.If his eyes had been laser beams, they would have burned through the damn sign and the door it hung on.The bitter taste of frustration filled his mouth, and he began a familiar, silent argument inside his head.
If I turn around right now, no one will know, and I won’t have to—
The door whipped open, and a pair of startled eyes met his.Recognition dawned, and they crinkled at the corners as a smile lifted his teammate’s face.
“Oh hey, if it isn’t Crutchy McCrutch,” Toby greeted.“Guess you’re here to start your PT, huh?”His gaze dipped to Sam’s ankle before raising back up again.He shook his head.“Damn, that sucks.And only two weeks away from playoffs too.”The words sounded right, but their tone didn’t match.If Sam had to pin an emotion to them, “glee” would have been his first pick.
“Thanks for rubbing it in.Not sure I would have remembered playoffs are right around the corner without your helpful reminder,” Sam groused.What Tobyhadn’trubbed in was the fact that this year’s postseason would have been Sam’sfirstin the NHL.He shook off the depressing thought that he might miss it entirely.Worse, he was in the final year of a make-it-or-break-it contract.“What are you doing down here?”
Toby leaned in and lowered his voice.“Officially, to have the elbow looked at.”He bent his arm at the elbow.“Range of motion is right where it needs to be.”
“I didn’t know you were having problems.”
Toby winked.“I’m not, which leads to theunofficial andactualreason.”He threw a quick glance over his shoulder.“There’s this really hot therapist I’m trying to convince to go out with me.”
Sam frowned.“I thought dating someone in the organization was verboten.Were you not there the two hundred times they drilled that rule into our heads?”
“I was there, just like you.But PT isn’t exactly part of the organization.It’s more like a snap-on tool.You know, an extension.They take patients outside of the team, so they’re not exclusive to us.”Toby tapped a finger against his temple.“And it all depends on how you define ‘date.’”
Toby held the door, and Sam lumbered his way through.Between the set of his shoulders and the spread of the crutches, it was an awkward, tight fit.Not only had the idiots who’d stuck PT in the basement put it miles from the elevator bank, but they’d also gone with narrow doors.Never mind that they weren’t an official department within the Blizzard organization’s structure.
Sam hatedeverythingabout this place—and this was the first time he’d ever been here.
He crutched in a circle until he faced Toby.“Yeah?And how doyoudefine date?”
His teammate shrugged.“Actual dating is picking her up at her place, dinner, flowers.But if we just sort of accidentally run into each other on purpose and end up back at her place, that’s different.”
“You’re labeling it differently but winding up with the same result,” Sam chuffed.
“Hopefully.”Toby’s eyebrows waggled.
“Not what I meant, asshole.”
Toby ignored him.“Stay away from my girl, Durbin.Oh, and keep clear of the blond one.That chick is mean, and she willhurtyou.”
“Who the fuck does that leave?”
“That leaves a couple of dudes, and they’re cool.Get one of them.You’re welcome.”
Did Sam have a pick of therapists?Neither the team doc who’d looked at him last night nor the trainers had clued him in.
A dark-haired woman with a downturned mouth and a severe bun looked up from her paperwork.“Mr.Durbin?”she called from behind a counter in a sterile, cramped lobby.Behind her hung a larger version of the door sign.
“Later, bro.Good luck.”Toby whacked Sam’s stomach, making him flinch.Not because it hurt, but because he hadn’t anticipated it.He wanted to return the tap—with the butt end of his crutch—but he still wasn’t used to the stupid sticks, and he didn’t want to end up on his ass.Worse than humiliating himself, he could do more damage to his fucking ankle.
“Thanks,” Sam tossed to Toby’s back as his teammate trotted toward the elevator.
Sam made his way to the counter and leaned a hand on it, trying not to show how much of his weight was resting on his palm.The woman, who looked to be about his aunt’s age, was dressed in khakis and a navy polo that seemed to cast shadows into the creases on her face, deepening them.She regarded him like one might regard a buzzing insect.
“You’re here for a high ankle sprain, is that right?”Her thin lips pursed as though she’d sucked on a lemon.
