Page 10 of Instigator

“We’re going to test impact and speed of collisions,” she says. “This sensor slips into your helmet. It’s so small you shouldn’t even feel it. We’ll be monitoring everything, and all you have to do is wear the sensor and allow us to examine you in the case of anything happening.”

“So the only thing different from usual is wearing this sensor.”

“You’ve got it.” She points finger guns at me, and against my better judgment, a begrudging smile tips my lips. “We’ll fit the sensor into the helmet using a silicone mold, and it’ll replace a bit of the padding. You shouldn’t feel it.”

I like that she repeats it. It goes a long way toward reassuring me.

“Thank you.” The words feel foreign on my lips, and I clear my throat. “You’re doing important work. I know it’s a thankless job, but I appreciate it.”

“I’ve got a vested interest in keeping your brains from splattering.” She smiles to take the sting out of her unique imagery.

Her fiancé and her brother are both players in the league; I don’t blame her for caring about our health and theirs. Add in her advanced neuroscience degrees, it makes sense that she’d devote her work to a cause she believes in.

“Today we’re going to take the measurements for the mold, and then you’ll come back after the road trip and we’ll make sure it fits into your helmet properly. We’ll schedule regular check-ins. And then you’re all done!”

I blow out a breath. “Okay, I can do that.”

Her nod feels definitive. “Yes, you can. Let’s get started.”

five

. . .

Ceci

Halfway through the second period, the Grizzlies are up three to one, and the fans are loving it. The goal horn sounds, and the crowd erupts with cheers as the Jumbotron flashes with the replay. MacGregor tipped in a nasty shot from Larsson, and with the go-ahead goal and another one for insurance tucked away, the arena buzzes with frenetic energy so loud the seats are practically vibrating.

Most of the time when I take in a live game, I rent out a suite and pack it full of my friends. It’s an event. An experience. We eat, we drink, we enjoy ourselves, and at the end of the night, regardless of the score, my cup is refilled from being around people I love.

When Hailey asked if I wanted to join her for a game, I couldn’t say no. There’s nothing like live sports. The fervor of the crowd, the intensity of the gameplay down on the ice… I don’t do drugs, but it’s a high like none other.

As I get to the suite reserved for the wives and girlfriends, I hug my friends hello before settling in beside Hailey. In seasons past, the box was reserved for family, wives, and fiancées, but since MacGregor became captain at the start of last season, girlfriends have been included as part of the group too.

The previous exclusivity was mainly due to McKittrick’s ex-wife. Being the captain’s wife gave her a superiority complex. We were all happy when they split up and she left the foundation board, and now that McKittrick’s with Amelia, who’s usually on the ice with the rest of the athletic training staff, team leadership has proven to be much more inclusive of all the people who love and support the team.

It’s nice to be around people who are invested in the game. Who care about the score and cheer for all the players. People who care about more than how hot the players are.

Which they are. Most of them are gorgeous, even with the missing teeth and shaggy, sweaty hair. They’re also young enough to be my children. Realizing that took some of the intensity out of my appreciation, but I still like the sport for what it is.

I simply don’t allow myself to lust after the players anymore. After all, they don’t become hockey players to be sexualized, especially at work. They only want to do their jobs. And there are plenty of other hot, eligible, more age-appropriate men who are receptive to being hit on.

MacGregor is on fire tonight. He’s centering Larsson and Easton, setting up plays left and right and firing bullets at the goal. Whatever he did today to prepare for the game, he’s going to have to do it every day from now on. The fans will demand it.

“Your brother is killing it,” I tell Hailey when his top-shelf snipe brings the score to 4–1, and the arena erupts in cheers.

“He’s been working really hard lately,” she confides, a beaming smile on her face. “I’m really proud of him.”

“It’s showing.”

I’ve only met Aidan MacGregor once, at a gala a season and a half ago. Hailey introduced us, he blushed and stammered something, and before I could so much as offer my hand to shake, he was gone. I could practically see the fire licking at his heels as he ran as far away from me as humanly possible.

I know I’m a bit of an acquired taste, but I didn’t think a fucking introduction was off-putting.

Okay, so maybe I’m still a little bitter. I want to be liked. Doesn’t everyone? It fucking stings that I repulsed him so much he couldn’t even make small talk for five minutes.

Ryan was perfectly charming. He was sweet, attentive to her needs, and doted on her all night. As he has every time I’ve met him. He doesn’t infantilize her; he simply treats her like an equal. Like she’s special.

And fuck, do I want that too.