Chapter 19: Injured
The next morning was as strange as the previous day.
Gabriel was quiet and distracted by something, and every time their eyes met, he got visibly flustered for some reason.
As they drove in silence toward the training center, Jared briefly considered pressing the issue, but the headache pounding at his temples made it hard to focus. The lack of sleep last night was making itself known.
“Are you okay?” Gabriel said when they arrived and Jared parked the car.
“Yeah,” Jared said, rubbing his forehead. “Just a bit of a headache. You must go, or you will be late for the training session.”
Gabriel leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, just an inch away from his lips. “Feel better,” he said softly and kissed the corner of his mouth before freezing, his green eyes wide and bewildered.
Flushing, he scrambled out of the car and jogged toward the training facility.
Jared touched his mouth, watching Gabriel disappear into the building.
* * *
The rest of the morning was busy for Jared. They were still understaffed, and there didn’t seem to be an end to injuries. He didn’t want to criticize Anne Boyle, but it was becoming increasingly obvious the injury prevention work had been poor while he’d been away.
Heaving a sigh, Jared rubbed at his temples when the door finally closed after yet another injured player.
“Headache, Dr. Sheldon?” a soft voice said.
Jared looked up. He’d completely forgotten about the intern’s presence in the room. Dark-brown eyes were looking at him sympathetically.
“Just a headache, Eric,” he replied.
Smiling, Eric walked over. “Let me help. I’ve been told I give great massages.”
“Go ahead,” Jared said, figuring it wouldn’t hurt. The guy was a soon-to-be physiotherapist, after all.
He closed his eyes as Eric’s fingers started touching his face: first applying pressure on his eyebrows, then stroking his scalp gently before starting to massage under the back of his skull. Jared made an appreciative noise as his headache receded a little.
“Better?” Eric murmured into his ear, closer than Jared had expected.
“What are you doing?”
Jared’s eyelids flew open.
Gabriel was standing in the doorway, looking at them.
“Dr. Sheldon asked me to give him a massage,” Eric replied. “For his headache.”
“You can go,” Gabriel said. “I’ll handle it.”
“But—”
“Get out,” Gabriel said pleasantly.
When Eric didn’t move, Gabriel fixed him with a hard look. “Do you have a problem with your hearing?”
“Eric, you may go,” Jared said slowly, eyeing Gabriel.
But before Eric could leave, the phone went off and Eric answered.
“You’re requested by Dr. Boyle immediately, Dr. Sheldon,” he said when he hung up. “Another player is injured.”
Suppressing a sigh, Jared got to his feet and strode out of the room. “Who is it now?”
“Tristan,” Gabriel replied before Eric could, falling into step with him as they made their way to Dr. Boyle’s office—Jared’s old office.
“What happened?” Jared asked.
“Got injured during the training session,” Gabriel said, his arm brushing Jared’s. “Looks like a groin injury. A nasty one.”
Jared shook his head. “Didn’t he have a groin strain a few months ago while I wasn’t here?”
“Yep, he did,” Gabriel said, touching his wrist. “Twice, actually.”
Jared grimaced. Groin injuries could be very tricky and linger if not treated correctly, and getting a third groin injury in the span of half a year wasn’t a good sign at all.
Reaching his old office, he pushed the door open and entered, Gabriel and Eric behind him. Jared looked back at Gabriel. “What are you doing here?”
Gabriel glanced at Eric. “I’m the injured guy’s brother,” he said, lifting his chin.
Jared narrowed his eyes but said nothing. It was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he strode toward the adjoined examination room.
Tristan DuVal was lying on the examination table, and Dr. Boyle stood next to him, her arms folded over her chest.
“What’s the problem, Anne?” Jared said.
Dr. Boyle turned to him, chewing on her lips. “Tristan wants an accelerated rehabilitation program. I don’t think it’s wise. He has a grade three groin injury, not to mention that it’s a re-injury, which complicates things. It will be very hard to—”
“You’re an excellent doctor, Dr. Boyle,” Tristan said. “I trust in your abilities. I’m sure if anyone is capable of doing that, it’s you.”
Behind him, Gabriel snorted and said, only for Jared’s ears, “Can’t believe people actually buy that.”
“Well,” Boyle said, her expression softening. “I might be able to, but—”
Tristan gave her a breathtaking smile. “Great! I knew you could do it. You know how important it is for me to be in form by the time the NT coach chooses the squad for the World Cup. I need to be cleared by April to recover form and impress him—”
“No one is getting cleared yet,” Jared cut in, walking closer to the table and examining Tristan’s exposed leg. Ice had been applied, but the swelling on the inner thigh was still very noticeable. “Partial or complete rupture?” he murmured.