ice & fire: A Ice Hockey Romance

Chapter 2: Meet Maeve

Maeve O'Connor stood in the bright, sunlit Peak Performance Rehabilitation Clinic, the scent of antiseptic mingling with the faint hint of eucalyptus from the essential oil diffuser in the corner.

She adjusted her dark blue scrubs, tucking a loose strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, and glanced at the clock. Jake Mercer was late, but that didn't surprise her. Stars in any sport often had inflated egos to match their fame.

She loved her job—helping people heal and regain their strength was more than just a profession; it was her passion. This is where she started her physical therapy career. Dr. Harper, the founder, taking her under her wing and showing her the ropes of physical therapy.

Each patient presented a new challenge, and she thrived on pushing them to their limits. But Jake? He was a different beast entirely. She'd heard the stories: cocky, charming, and used to getting his way. The idea of working with him both excited and irritated her.

As she waited, she reviewed his file again. Torn ligaments in the right knee, grade 2 tear, no surgery required. This was standard for a hockey player, but she knew how it felt to be sidelined, to feel that creeping fear of being forgotten. Maeve had her own dreams once before the car accident changed everything. But she had channeled that frustration into helping others, turning her pain into purpose.

Finally, the door swung open from the reception room, and Jake strode in, his presence electric. Despite the knee brace that encased his leg and the crutches supporting him, he exuded confidence. The moment their eyes met, there was an undeniable spark—a tension that hung in the air like a live wire.

"Jake Mercer, I presume," Maeve said, arms crossed, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Or should I call you 'Mr. Hockey Star'?"

He smirked, leaning away from the crutches with an easy charm that was almost infuriating. "I prefer 'the best thing that ever happened to this town.' But you can call me Jake."

"Right. Let's start with a reality check, shall we?" Maeve shot back, moving closer. "You're here because you got your butt handed to you on the ice. If you're hoping for a cushy ride, you're in the wrong place."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by her forthrightness. "You're not what I expected."

"Neither are you," she replied, a playful glint in her eyes. "But I assure you, I'm much less impressed by your statistics than the average Eagles fan."

Jake chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "Guess we're off to a great start then."

"Oh, we're just getting started, Jake." She gestured to the therapy table. "Take a seat. We'll see how quickly you can handle a little pain."

"Pain is part of the game," he replied, hobbling over. "I can handle it." Maeve met his gaze, her expression turning serious. "Physical pain, sure. But can you handle the emotional side? Because if we're going to get through this, you need to drop the bravado. You're not on the ice anymore. It's just you and me."

He hesitated, the cocky facade wavering for a brief moment. "You think you can break me?"

"I don't think. I know," she shot back, her tone unwavering. "But I'll also be here to build you back up again. Just remember, Jake, it's going to be a challenge."

He leaned forward, the intensity of their gaze locking them in place. "I like a challenge."

"Good. Because you'll have plenty of them," Maeve replied, her pulse quickening. As she guided him through the initial assessment, they both felt the undercurrent of attraction growing stronger, wrapped tightly around their banter and sarcasm.

They kept stealing glances at each other throughout the session, hoping that neither would notice each other checking them out.

"That wraps up today's session." She gives him a hard stare.

"Not bad for your first one. Let me get you checked out." Maeve turns around, heading back toward the reception area, leaving Jake on the exercise table. At this angle, his line of sight was in direct view of Maeve's lovely behind. He couldn't help but admire how her blue scrubs molded to her ass perfectly. He inwardly groaned, trying to keep himself in check.

Jake contemplated the session. Maeve had pushed Jake further than he expected, her determination igniting something within him—a fire he hadn't felt since the injury. As he left the room, he couldn't shake the feeling that this fiery therapist was going to change everything he thought he knew about healing while also leaving him a little sexually frustrated.

And maybe, just maybe, she would melt a bit of the ice he had built around his heart.

***

Later that night, Maeve blew out a frustrated breath, leaning back against the bar stool as she took a sip of her drink. "He's just so damn cocky."

"Who?" Fiona asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Jake," Maeve replied, rolling her eyes. "The hockey player I'm working with for therapy."

"Oh, the one who tore his ACL?" Fiona clarified, taking a sip of her own drink.

"Yeah," Maeve sighed. "I mean, he's making progress physically, but he just has this attitude about him that drives me insane."

Fiona chuckled. "Well, what do you expect? He's a professional athlete used to being in control and on top of his game."

"I know, I know," Maeve grumbled. "But still, it's frustrating trying to get through to him when he thinks he knows everything already."

"Well, you just have to keep pushing him and showing him that you're the expert here," Fiona advised.

"I guess you're right," Maeve said with a shrug. "It's just going to be a long road with him."

At that moment, their conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat next to them at the bar. They turned to see Jake standing there with a smirk on his face.

"Sorry to interrupt your girls' night out," he said sarcastically. "But I couldn't help overhearing your little talk about me."

Maeve groaned internally and put on her best professional smile. "Jake! What are you doing here?"

"Just grabbing a drink after my intense day. You know, I had this hard ass Physical therapist in a PT workout today," he replied casually as he hopped onto the empty stool next to Maeve, leaning his crutches off on the bar beside him.

Fiona gave Maeve a sympathetic look before excusing herself from the bar. Maeve shot her friend a grateful smile before turning her attention back to Jake.

"So what did you hear exactly?" she asked cautiously.

"That I'm cocky and frustrating," he replied, not missing a beat.

Maeve felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. She hadn't meant for Jake to overhear her ranting about him. But as a therapist, she knew that sometimes venting to colleagues was necessary.

"Well, it's not entirely untrue," Maeve replied with a small smile, trying to diffuse the tension between them.

Jake chuckled. "I know I can be difficult. But I also know that you're good at what you do and I trust your expertise."

Maeve was taken aback by his sudden change in attitude. She had expected him to be defensive or argumentative, not understanding and humble.

"I appreciate that," she said sincerely.

“Well, I should head out. Sorry to ruin your girls night. Was your friend coming back?”

“Yeah!” Jake nodded his head at her, while he tried to gracefully stand for the stool.

“Let me take care of your drinks.”

“Oh, no that’s not necessary.”

Jake insisted, despite her reluctance. Fiona made her way back to the bar. Eyeing both of them cautiously to see if they still needed a few minutes.

"Thanks for the drinks," Maeve said gratefully to Jake.

"It was my pleasure. See you next session." he replied with a charming smile.

Maeve and Fiona waved as he left the bar. Her energy zapped at the unexpected and embarrassing encounter.

“So? That was….” Fiona let her words linger.

“Are you alright?” she asked Maeve.

"Not really," Maeve admitted, taking a sip of her drink.

Fiona raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"Jake overheard our conversation about him," Maeve explained with a sigh. "I feel terrible."

Fiona let out a sympathetic sound. "Oh, that's awkward. But let's be honest, he can be cocky and frustrating sometimes."

Maeve chuckled, grateful for her friend's understanding.

"Yeah, I know. But it's still not easy to have him hear me talking about him like that," she replied.

"Well, maybe it will make him more self-aware and less difficult to work with," Fiona suggested optimistically.

Maeve shrugged. "Maybe. But I also don't want to come across as unprofessional or disrespectful towards my patient."

"You didn't say anything untrue though," Fiona reminded her.

"I know. I just need to be more careful in the future," Maeve said with a determined nod.

Their conversation was interrupted by a group of rowdy guys walking into the bar, their voices loud and obnoxious.

“I think we should call it a night. I have had my fare share of excitement today. I could really go for a bubble bath.”

“That sounds lovely,” Fiona agreed.

“Let’s catch a cab together.” Both girls slipped on their coats, and pushed their way to the bar exit with difficulty. Maeve stepped out on the sidewalk, Fiona in tow, the cold evening air hitting their faces. Her thoughts of her deep soaker tub and not a hockey player, named Jake Mercer!