Page 4 of Goalie Secrets
“Hi. Nothing much. Wondering if Kyle can see me earlier than my two o’clock appointment.”
“Let me check.” She puts me on hold for a minute. “He’s booked, but if you come before lunch, we’ll try to squeeze you in.”
“Thanks. See you at noon.”
“Perfect. Text me when you arrive.”
I show up at quarter to twelve and park in the employee lot behind the building. I’ve worked with Kyle even before he created this behemoth of a building, ever since he diagnosed me as a kid. It’s a relationship the Mavericks took advantage of when they drafted me, integrating his medical treatment costs into my contract.
The benefit of being a longtime patient is that I don’t go through the regular channels. Instead of checking in at the front desk and getting unwanted attention from other patrons, I havea key card that gives me access to the back entrance of the medical wing.
I text Sabrina.I’m here. Should I go to his office?
Sabrina:Wait in exam room 4. He’s got a patient across the hall, but if you leave the door open, you’ll see him as soon as he’s done.
I do as I’m told and get comfortable by removing my jacket and track pants, leaving only athletic shorts. He’ll need access to my hamstrings and lower back, which he’ll massage and attach to an EMS unit. It’s an electronic stimulation machine that helps with tight muscles. My condition includes hypermobility, which is fantastic for reflexes and agility, but goddamn painful if left untreated.
“Jeremy Lopez?” The voice crests over my shoulder, prompting me to turn around. A woman stands at the threshold, clutching a stethoscope around her neck and staring at me with heavily lashed brown eyes. Tall and curvaceous, I can’t help noticing the way her blue scrubs stretch over a full chest.
Then, she smiles. It changes her features from symmetrically appealing to full sunshine. Cheekbones lifted, eyes crinkled at the edges, full lips curved up and framed by deep dimples. The woman doesn’t need makeup for all her features to hit me in high definition. Her eager attention steals my ability to speak for a moment.
I’ll concede my dad one point: he’s never “surprised” me with anyone thiswholesome; as in, naturally pretty instead of overtly sexual.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Vanya Kapur. I didn’t think you’d be arriving till later. It’s such a pleasure to see you, Mr. Lopez.” She steps in with her hand outstretched.
Nicely done, Dad. A hot doctor is definitely more creative than a scantily dressed nurse.
Instead of shaking her hand, I rush to find my wallet and get some cash before she does her “Happy Birthday” number. Maybe I can pay her before Kyle finishes with his other patient. No one else has to know about the second parental indiscretion of the day.
“I’m sorry, I only have a twenty. But you don’t have to do anything. Here, take this. Please leave.”
I hold out the bill between us. She looks at my hand and tilts her head.
“Excuse me, but are you paying me to leave?” Her voice is incredulous, and her smile is replaced by a scowl.
“Well, yeah,” I answer with an added shake of the twenty before I drop it on the counter. “And you don’t have to strip at all,” I hurry to add.
Her brown eyes widen to stare at me so intently, I’m worried she’s lost the ability to blink.
“Mr. Lopez, why in the world would Istrip? Are you,” she pauses and lowers her voice, “are you feeling well? I only had access to your file a few minutes ago, but we can review your pain medication for—”
“Oh my god, enough already!” I interrupt with an impatient sigh. “You’re not gonna leave until the job is done? Good for you.” I sit down and cross my arms over my chest. “Well? Get it over with, then.”
Her face reddens and her tiny nostrils flare.
“I see,” she mutters with a mouth that barely moves, the line is so stern. “You think because you’re a hotshot hockey player you’ve got some superpower that makes women shed their clothing. Unfortunately, your delusions of sexual irresistibility can’t be cured with our treatment of Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. You’ll have to go to a psychiatrist for that. Shall I write you a referral?”
How the hell would this stripper know about my EDS? Before I can ask out loud, Kyle opens the door across the hallway.
“Oh, good!” he says, entering the exam room. “You’ve met Dr. Kapur. We went over your file earlier so—”
“She’s actually a doctor?” I erupt, struggling to wrap my mind around the fact that I treated her like one of my dad’s employees.
“Yes, Mr. Lopez,” she answers with thick condescension, “women make excellent doctors. That is, when they can resist your…” She lifts the twenty that I put on the counter and shakes it in front of me. “Yourcharms.”
Of all the things I could have been mistaken for, an eager puck bunny is about as likely as a tap-dancing unicorn. And to think I had been looking forward to meeting him!
When I passed the room to find Jeremy Lopez preparing for treatment, I couldn’t wait for an introduction. Unfortunately, misogynistic assholes will misconstrue forwardness as a negative trait. Serves me right for trying to be approachable and friendly. Guys like him will find every opportunity to put a woman in her place.