The Captain's Secret Baby

Chapter 7: Examine

Avery's Point of View

Walking into the arena on my second day felt slightly less terrifying than the first. The knot in my stomach was still there, but it no longer threatened to choke me with every breath. I reminded myself that I wasn't here because of Rhett Kane. I was here because Lena trusted me enough to protect the career she had worked so hard to build, and until she returned, these players were my responsibility.

The medical department was already buzzing with activity when I arrived. Several staff members greeted me with warm smiles while stacks of preseason medical files covered the conference table. Today was the team's annual physical evaluation, which meant every player had to complete a full examination before training camp officially began.

"Morning, Doctor," Coach Harrison said, walking into the room carrying a clipboard.

"Good morning, Coach."

"I hope you're ready."

I smiled politely. "I've handled larger rosters before."

"I like confidence," he chuckled, before looking toward the hallway. "Boys!"

A loud chorus answered him. One by one, the players wandered into the medical department, laughing and shoving each other like oversized children instead of professional athletes. The room instantly became louder.

"So she's real." A blond defenseman stopped in front of my desk before extending his hand. "I'm Mason Carter."

Before I could answer, another player stepped beside him. "Ignore Mason. He introduces himself to every attractive woman. You better not talk to this man."

Mason looked offended. "I introduce myself to everyone."

"Only if they're attractive."

Laughter erupted throughout the room. Despite myself, I smiled. "It's nice to meet all of you."

Another player leaned against the examination table. "So you're really covering for Dr. Morales?"

"I am."

"For how long?"

"Until she returns."

Someone sighed dramatically. "Guess we'd better stop getting injured."

"I'd appreciate that," I replied, and more laughter filled the room.

The easy conversation surprised me. I'd expected arrogance from a room full of professional athletes, but instead they reminded me of medical students during break time, endlessly teasing one another without any real malice behind their words.

Coach Harrison clapped his hands. "Enough." Everyone immediately groaned. "Physicals first."

A chorus of complaints echoed through the room.

"I hate needles."

"There aren't any needles."

"Good."

"I lied."

The entire room burst into laughter.

An hour passed quickly. Player after player moved through the examinations while I reviewed flexibility, muscle strength, previous injuries, cardiovascular health, and concussion histories. Most tried to joke their way through the appointments, but they listened the moment I gave instructions, making my job far easier than I'd expected.

"Next," I called out.

Mason walked back into the examination room wearing a grin that instantly made me suspicious.

"What happened?" I asked.

"My shoulder."

"When?"

"This morning."

Coach Harrison frowned. "You were perfectly fine ten minutes ago."

"I must've gotten worse."

Several teammates snorted loudly from outside.

I motioned toward the examination table. "Sit."

He obeyed, and I carefully tested his range of motion. "Lift your arm." He did. "Any pain?"

"A little."

I pressed gently against his rotator cuff. "Here?"

"No."

"Here?"

"No."

I folded my arms and raised one eyebrow. "So... which shoulder hurts again?"

The room exploded with laughter. Mason scratched the back of his neck. "The left?"

I smiled. "I've been examining your right shoulder for the last three minutes."

Even Coach Harrison laughed. "Caught."

Mason sighed dramatically, admitting defeat. "Fine. I just wanted to spend more time with the prettiest doctor we've ever had."

Someone immediately whistled. "That took longer than expected."

Another player shouted, "I had five bucks on him lasting at least an hour."

Heat crept into my cheeks despite my best effort to remain professional. "I'm afraid fake injuries aren't covered under my treatment plan."

"I'll fake something better next time."

"You'll spend next practice skating laps," Coach Harrison answered before I could, sending the room into another wave of laughter.

At that exact moment, the medical department suddenly grew quiet. I didn't need to look up; the change in atmosphere told me exactly who had arrived.

Rhett Kane stood in the doorway. He wore black training gear with the team's logo stretched across his broad chest, his damp hair suggesting he'd already finished part of his morning workout. His expression remained unreadable as his gaze slowly swept across the room before settling on me.

Nobody spoke for several seconds. Then Mason ruined the silence.

"Captain," he smirked. "You look like you will kill someone."

Several players burst into laughter. Rhett slipped both hands into his pockets, his eyes briefly flicking toward Mason. "If I could, I would."

The laughter became even louder. Mason placed one hand over his heart. "You wound me."

"You'll survive."

I lowered my attention back to the medical chart. "Your shoulder is perfectly healthy." Before I could finish writing my notes, Rhett spoke again.

"He's cleared."

I looked up. "I'm sorry?"

"He doesn't need another examination."

I met his gaze evenly. "I'm the team physician."

A slow smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "Exactly."

The room suddenly became very interested in pretending not to watch us. Coach Harrison cleared his throat. "I believe that's the doctor's decision."

Rhett never looked away from me. "I have complete confidence she'll make the right one." His words sounded respectful, but his eyes told an entirely different story.

I signed Mason's clearance form before handing it over. "You're fit to practice."

Mason quickly escaped before becoming caught between whatever silent battle was unfolding. The room gradually returned to normal, but I could still feel Rhett watching me. It was impossible to ignore.

Coach Harrison glanced at the clipboard one last time before nodding. "Alright." He looked toward Rhett. "Captain." He tossed the file onto my desk. "You're next."

The room instantly fell silent again. Every player looked from me to Rhett, and back again. My heartbeat slowly began to climb, because in only a few seconds, I'd have to examine the one patient I'd been hoping never to touch again.