Chapter 3
1625 Words
Riley POV
I was still trying to shake off the weird energy from yesterday when I set up the training room for Jax’s first official rehab session. The morning light was bright and sharp, pouring through the high windows and casting clean lines across the blue mats. I had spent extra time this morning reviewing his file again — multiple shoulder strains over the years, stubborn as hell about actually following recovery protocols, and the alternate captain of the Denver Blizzard. They called him “The Wall.” After that intense collision and the charged moment yesterday, I understood exactly why the nickname fit. The man was built like a tank.
I adjusted the resistance bands hanging on the wall, laid out my notes neatly on the small desk, and made sure everything was organized. I needed to stay completely professional today. My dad’s warning from yesterday morning still echoed in my head: Especially Jax Callahan. Stay away. I wasn’t going to let one arrogant, ridiculously attractive player ruin my dream job on only my second day.
The door opened with a heavy push. Jax walked in wearing a tight black compression shirt that hugged every ridge of muscle and a pair of gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips. His dark hair was still slightly damp from morning practice, and that signature cocky smirk was already plastered on his face the second he saw me.
“Princess,” he said, voice low and rough like gravel. “Good Morning.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to keep my expression as neutral as possible. “It’s Riley. And you’re actually on time again. That’s surprising for someone who seemed so grumpy yesterday.”
He dropped his bag in the corner with a thud and hopped up on the therapy table like he owned the entire room. “What can I say? I was looking forward to those magic hands again.”
I rolled my eyes and stepped closer, trying hard to ignore how good he smelled, like fresh ice, clean sweat, and something warm and masculine underneath. “Let’s keep this professional, okay? I need to assess your range of motion first before we do anything else.”
“Whatever you say, doc,” he muttered, but there was a clear grumpy edge to his tone. He rolled his bad shoulder slowly and winced. “Just make it quick. I’ve got film study later and I don’t want to be late.”
I moved between his spread knees so I could reach his shoulder properly. The forced closeness made the air feel thicker immediately, like the room had shrunk around us. I placed my hands on his shoulder, feeling the tight, knotted muscles under the thin compression shirt.
“You’re still really tense here,” I said, pressing gently into the area. “How long has it been bothering you this bad?”
“Few weeks,” he grunted, sounding irritated. “Nothing I can’t handle. I’ve played through worse.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s exactly why it's not improving. You’ve been pushing through the pain instead of actually fixing it. That’s why it keeps getting worse and flaring up on you.”
Jax let out a short, frustrated laugh. “You sound exactly like your dad. You gonna lecture me the whole session, princess?”
“Only if you keep acting like a stubborn i***t who thinks he’s unbreakable,” I shot back, my fingers working into a stubborn knot near his rotator cuff. He hissed in pain but didn’t pull away from my touch.
“Damn, you’ve got some attitude,” he said, watching me closely. His dark eyes were intense, almost amused now. “Most people around here kiss my ass because I’m the alternate captain.”
“That explains the ego,” I replied, carefully guiding his arm through a slow rotation to test mobility. My hands lingered on his bicep as I checked the strength. The muscle was rock hard and warm under my fingers.
He grinned, but the grumpy vibe was still there underneath. “They call me The Wall for a reason. I shut down the other team’s best players. Nobody gets past me on the ice.”
“I’m not one of your guys on the ice,” I said, focusing on my work. My hands lingered a little longer than necessary on his bicep as I checked the strength. The muscle was rock hard under my fingers, warm and solid. “I’m here to make sure you don’t destroy your career by being stupid about this injury.”
Jax’s smirk softened just a fraction as he looked at me. “You worried about me, Riley?”
“I’m worried about doing my job properly,” I replied quickly, but I could feel my cheeks getting warm. Damn it. Why did he have to look at me like that?
He noticed, of course. He always seemed to notice.
“You’re blushing,” he said, his voice dropping lower, almost teasing. “That’s cute as hell.”
“I’m not blushing,” I lied, focusing hard on his shoulder again. “It’s just warm in here with all the equipment running.”
“Bullshit.” He chuckled, the sound deep and rough, vibrating through his chest. “You get all pink every time I call you princess. It’s distracting as hell, you know that?”
I swallowed hard and stepped back slightly to grab a resistance band. “Lift your arm for me. Slowly. Don’t force it.”
He did what I asked, but his eyes never left my face the entire time. The proximity between us felt dangerous. Every time I adjusted his arm or pressed into a sore muscle, I was hyper aware of how close our bodies were. His knees kept brushing against my hips as I worked. The heat coming off his skin made my pulse race faster than it should.
“Does that hurt?” I asked, pressing into a particularly tender spot.
“A little,” he admitted, his jaw tightening. “But don’t stop. Feels better when you do it.”
I swallowed hard again. The way he said it sounded way too intimate for a rehab session. I kept working, my fingers sliding over his warm skin as I guided his movements through different stretches. The s****l tension between us kept building with every single touch. Lingering. Heavy. Almost unbearable.
“You know,” he said after a quiet minute, “most therapists don’t talk back to me like you do. They just nod and tell me whatever I want to hear so I don’t get mad.”
“Maybe that’s why your shoulder is still messed up,” I replied, glancing up at him. Our faces were suddenly much closer than I realized. “Someone needs to actually call you out on your shit.”
Jax’s eyes dropped to my lips for a second. “You volunteering for the job, princess?”
My breath caught in my throat. The room felt smaller, hotter. His scent wrapped around me completely. I could see every little detail up close — the faint scar above his eyebrow, the way his stubble shadowed his strong jaw, the intensity burning in those dark eyes. My hands were still on his shoulder, fingers pressing into his warm skin.
“I’m just doing my job,” I whispered, but my voice came out softer than I meant it to.
He leaned in a little closer. Our faces were only inches apart now. I could feel his warm breath brushing against my lips. The tension crackled between us like electricity ready to spark. His hand came up slowly, like he was about to touch my waist—
The door suddenly swung open.
“Hey, Jax — you still in here?” Theo Ramirez’s voice cut through the thick silence.
I jumped back quickly, my heart slamming against my ribs. Theo, the team’s young cocky rookie forward, stood in the doorway holding a water bottle in hand. He looked between us with a suspicious little smirk, eyebrows raised like he’d just walked in on something he wasn’t supposed to see.
Jax cleared his throat, his expression shifting back to that familiar grumpy mask. “Yeah, man. We’re almost done.”
Theo nodded slowly, but that suspicious look didn’t leave his face. “Coach is looking for you in a bit for some defensive adjustments. Don’t take too long in here.”
“Tell him I’ll be there,” Jax replied, voice tight.
Theo gave us one last curious glance, the smirk still playing on his lips, before he finally left and the door clicked shut behind him.
The moment was completely shattered. My cheeks were burning hot as I stepped further back, grabbing my notes with shaky hands. My pulse was still racing.
Jax looked at me, something dark and hungry still lingering in his eyes. “Riley…”
“We should wrap this up for now,” I said quickly, cutting him off. My voice came out a little breathless. “Same time tomorrow if the shoulder needs more work.”
He didn’t move right away. He just stared at me for a long second, like he was trying to figure something out. Then he hopped off the table, grabbed his bag, and paused at the door.
“This isn’t over, princess,” he said quietly, his voice low and full of promise.
He walked out without another word.
I stood there alone in the training room, heart still racing, trying to catch my breath as I pressed a hand to my warm cheek.
What the hell just happened?
- Writer
