Ignite Me, Ice Captain

Toggling Between Two Idiots

Avery closed her eyes, tucking behind her ear a stray lock that had escaped her hairband and was testing her patience, tickling her temple.

Seeing two missed calls from her mother and a message instructing her to call back immediately after she returned from the rehab center, she had assumed it was urgent—something so pressing she didn’t dare put it off.

It wasn’t urgent.

It wasn’t even something they should be discussing while she was busy at work.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Avery?” her mother demanded, after going on for almost two minutes.

She grunted. What was there to understand? Being forced on a date with a stranger or not being given a say in the matter?

“Do you see how this arrangement is very necessary to secure a stable future for you?”

Now she understood what that pointless lecture about her “aging eggs” last night had really been about. But that didn’t make it any funnier. She made a gagging noise—part reflex, part restraint—because it was taking everything in her not to snap and give her mother a full, unfiltered piece of her mind about this so-called necessary arrangement.

“Avery, it’s rude to make that sound.”

A grunt.

“Clearly, you’re too busy to talk. Let’s talk later.”

She heaved a sigh of relief, her finger already raised to tap the end button.

“Before I go off...”

She nearly groaned aloud. God, if only she had the guts to cut her mom off mid-sentence—but no, she’d been raised with too much damned respect for her elders. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to earn herself another blistering lecture. That would be an even bigger waste of her time—and a bigger test of her patience.

“Let me hear your thoughts about Denzel. His mum is waiting to know whether to tell him to press forward with his pursuit... or give it up. I’m calling her back as soon as I’m done talking with you.”

“Mum, one of my patients woke up from a coma three days ago and is currently in rehab, being attended to personally by me. His mum is a wonderful woman I owe a lot to. She had helped me immensely in the past, including when I was obtaining my license to start my hospital. Now, to repay some of the debt I owe her, I want to personally ensure her son gets back on his feet as soon as possible. I’ll be so busy with him that I can’t step out of Foxborough for the foreseeable future.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. Don’t you have other physiotherapists working for you? Put the best one you have on him. Avery, baby girl, I was so happy when you decided to turn to actual medical field because then you’d stop massaging people for a living. Why are you still doing it after a medical license? Sweetheart, you can progress to become a heart surgeon, a very prestigious career that’s in demand all over the country. Adding a cardiac unit to your hospital would be admirable, wouldn’t it?”

She let out a silent screech. No matter how many times she explained to her mom and the rest of her family what her medical license was for, it would always pass through their ears. Pointless as it was, she took a deep breath and tried again with her mom.

“I’m a physiotherapist, mum. I got a degree in it because that’s what I want, what I love to do. The same way you have a passion for studying micro-living things, and dad likes to mix chemicals and see what he can make from the compounds, and Jennings dreams about making planes move faster, and Jeffrey likes to...” She stopped herself, realizing she was practically yelling into the mouthpiece, her face flushed with the pent-up anger of having her job—her very important, life-saving job—treated like a kickball within the family.

“Sweetie, I understand your job is important to you. We all do, and that’s why we let you do it, even though we all believe you could have challenged yourself more.”

At this point, she was ready to cut the line, consequences be damned.

“So, about Denzel, I’ll just go ahead and tell Petunia to schedule the date for tonight.”

“Mum, did you hear a word I said about being too busy to do anything else?” she snapped, her anger boiled over.

“I heard you say you can’t step away from your clinic because there’s another jock who’s broke something in his body, requiring you to give him a massage for the next few days until he gets back on his feet. You’re doing it as a favor for his mum. Now you listen, honey, in order not to get in the way of your work, even though this meeting with this gentleman is extremely important—you’ll see for yourself after you’ve met him—I’m going to suggest to Petunia to encourage her son to drive to your end. Denzel is a very accommodating man, and seeing as how he immediately took to liking you after seeing your picture, I’m sure he would be more than willing to oblige. I’ll pass your contact to him. He’ll call you to make all the necessary arrangements. Avery, he’ll be making a very long trip from Medford so don’t make him regret it.”

She thought of taking the gentleman’s number as well—getting in touch with him personally and politely asking him to pop the balloon against her as a future bride before the two old women forcing them together got too creative. She was sure, as a man, he didn’t appreciate his mom setting up his marriage any more than she did.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, though, the phone went dead. Her mum was gone after saying her piece, very typical of her.

She sat for a few minutes, trying to gather her composure and come up with her next line of action, should she indeed get a call from Denzel Rogers.

“Dr. Avery?” A soft knock, then the door creaked open. Jamie, one of the new recruits, poked his head in, eyes bright with the eagerness that marked fresh residents until the loaded work schedule is forcing them to work around the clock. “I just finished with Mr. Pierce. He asked me to bring him here for a word with you.”

Right. Of course. Logan Pierce.

She was examining his X-ray when the brilliant idea popped into her head to call her mum first.

She picked up the remote, intending to turn off the screen before asking for Logan to be wheeled in, but he was already in, working the wheels of the chair himself to steer it. In a moment she found disconcerting, her eyes locking into the blue of his, she forgot about the screen and the displayed gruesome image of fractured bone and damaged tendons that was his knee right joint, used as an outlet of rage by an overcharged beast with a stick. The remote dangled absentmindedly between her fingers as she got sucked into his stare. Even in a wheelchair, he still carried that same imposing, captivating presence he exuded on TV.

Avery watched him intently as he casually ran his eyes around her office, sizing it up—along with her. She hoped he was impressed by what he saw; his expression gave nothing away though. She took pride in marking her personal space, and for a small space, she was quite proud with what she’d made of it.

“Dr. Callaway, I thought I wouldn’t see you again until I was out of here.” He rolled his chair in front of her desk, shoving the two existing chairs aside to make room for himself.

Left with nothing else to do, Jamie excused himself to go to work on the next patient.

She gave him her practiced patient smile.

“My mum made it clear that I’m under your special care—and that you’ll take excellent care of me.”

“Is there anything you find unsatisfactory about my establishment, Mr. Pierce?” she asked coolly.

“So far, just you,” he drawled lazily, leaning back in the chair, spearing her with his eyes. “And call me Logan.”

She swiped her tongue over her lower lip, banishing the lingering frustration from her conversation with her mother and the nagging thought of whether she’d be trapped on a blind date tonight. She had a bigger, more immediate problem sitting right in front of her.

She adored the guy’s mum and had hoped her opinion of the son she considered amazing would improve once she got to know him outside of the rink. But in the three days since he’d woken up from coma, everything she’d found was a reason to agree with the paparazzi, who had practically branded him an asshole, each encounter fueling the burning desire she had to just knock him back into a coma.

She pushed her chair forward, keeping her tone, anger and bitterness that simmered just beneath the surface, contained. “I hope that if I ask what you find unsatisfactory about me, Mr. Pierce, you won’t say it’s because I’m not already naked and sitting astride your lap.”

A flash of amusement wobbled his lips. “Much as I’d love to subscribe to that service, I know you don’t offer it here in your office. Let’s move on to something you can actually offer me—information about my condition. Tell me honestly, what are my odds of getting back on my feet without a walking stick?”

She glanced at the image on the screen behind him and answered with complete honesty, “Almost a hundred percent. The surgeon did a great job on you. Both the torn ligament and tendon were patched pretty well, and your body has an incredible rate of healing.”

He nodded slowly, clearly relieved. “Is there ever a chance I’ll continue in the rink?”

She believed he had a promising chance if his body continued healing as it had been and if the rehab went smoothly. However, it wasn’t a sure thing. He had been severely injured before, and unfortunately, he had been hit at the very spot where the new tissue had formed. His bad luck was still being on his feet when the other man hit him. Had it been otherwise, those major membranes that were crucial to keep his balance and speed in the rink would have been saved. While the surgery was helping repair the damage, they’d have to wait and see how his body coped with this second round of recovery. She made sure to explain all of this to him carefully, wanting him to understand the uncertainties.

She was glad to see he wasn’t fazed by the news. He’d either learned to embrace the likelihood or he didn’t see how a premature termination of his career could ruin his life.

If she really thought about how well he’d done for himself over the past eight years of his career, she could understand why he might feel insulated from the fallout. He’d earned millions on the rink as an iconic player, and his knack for multiplying that wealth through savvy investments was one impressive way he’d proven his brain wasn’t all mush. His endorsements alone were likely bringing in far more than his annual salary.

Moreover, despite his reputation as a playboy, with a long list of exes often conspiring to tarnish his image, he’d managed to avoid the kinds of scandals that quickly brought down some of his peers: lawsuits over lewd behavior, s****l assault allegations, violence, and bitter child custody battles.

“Of course, we’ll never give up on you. From what I see, your body wouldn’t either. Hang in there, Mr. Pierce.”

He nodded. “So, if you weren’t afraid of failing with me, why then have you been hiding from me?”

The full-blown resentment she had for a man who seemed only interested in getting his way with women settled back inside her chest. She’d briefly entertained the thought that he could be more than the cocky, entitled player she knew him to be, as he had been nodding with comprehension and had seemed serious, reflective even, during their conversation about his recovery.

A call came through on her phone, just in time to save her from delivering a retort that could’ve earned her clinic a bad review from a highly regarded public figure.

The number was unknown—very likely Denzel Rogers. Given how quickly he’d gotten her number, she immediately discarded any hope of talking him out of the situation their mothers had set up. She muted the phone and turned her focus back to her other headache.

But the phone started ringing again. And just as she didn’t pick up, it began ringing a third time.

“Answer him, sweetheart. A guy doesn’t give up easily when he’s going after a hot lady,” Logan drawled, the amusement in his voice unconcealed.

“Will you stay out of my personal affairs... please,” she muttered fiercely to both men.

Unfortunately, Rogers didn’t seem to have the intention of complying. The phone rang again, and again, starting right after the other ended. By the time it hit the seventh ring, she felt she had no choice but to pick it up.

“Hello, Avery. This is Dr. Denzel Rogers, PhD.”

The voice was tight, forced into a register that tried to sound deeper. It scraped against her ears and made her cringe inwardly. She felt an instant dislike towards the man.

“Denzel, can we talk tomorrow?” Or never?

“I’m in town already, dear. I’m in Foxborough. How about we catch an early dinner together?”

“You’re where again?”

What the heck! Her mum had called only twenty minutes ago. How had he gotten over from Medford so quickly? Had he already set off before her mum even talked to her, knowing there was no way she’d refuse the blind date?

“I’m sorry, I’m still at work. I wasn’t expecting you at this time. I’m too busy to step out right now.”

“In that case, I’ll come to the clinic. I’m just about five minutes away. The cafeteria has good food, I presume? We’ll grab a bite there and talk. See you soon.” After a shrill cackle that felt like it was mocking her helplessness, the call dropped.

She stared at the phone like a venomous viper.

“An impromptu date coming up?”

Her eyes snapped at Logan, who was leaning back in his chair, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Don’t mind me. I’ll just find my way back to my room.”

“Stay put, please. Don’t overexert yourself. I’ll have Jamie come back to take you to your room. Tomorrow, we’ll begin work on the trainers,” she replied, keeping her tone professional.

“Sure. I’ll wait here for my masseuse. You get going. I have good hearing, and I believe he’s giving you only five minutes to meet him?”

How did that concern him?

She grabbed her things and stood up, turning on her heel to leave the room.

“Good luck with your date.”