Legends and Headaches

Brynn’s POV

The phantom heat of Kaelen's glare burned a hole between my shoulder blades as Gwen finally ushered me out of the medical room. We navigated the winding concrete hallways of the arena in silence, putting a thick set of double doors between us and the furious star player. My pulse tapped a frantic, uneven rhythm against my collarbone. I drew in a ragged breath, trying to shake off the physical tension that lingered in the air around him.

Once we stepped into the quiet sanctuary of Gwen's spacious office, she let out a long breath. She gestured toward a plush leather chair opposite her polished mahogany desk.

Gwen settled into her own office chair and rubbed her temples. "I am sorry about that. Kaelen is kind of..."

"...an obnoxious asshole?"

The words tumbled out of my mouth before my brain could hit the brakes. Shock radiated through my chest. I slapped both hands over my mouth in pure horror. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck.

My inner monologue spiraled into a panic. First day. First impression. Ruined. I was already insulting the star franchise player right in front of the person who signed my paychecks.

A soft chuckle escaped Gwen’s lips. It started as a low rumble and blossomed into genuine, uncontained amusement.

I dropped my hands to my lap, my fingers tangling together into tight knots. "I am so sorry for saying that. I should really filter myself better."

Gwen shook her head, a bright smile wiping away the exhausted lines around her eyes. "No, do not apologize. I understand you. A staggering number of people think that exact same way about Kaelen. I just have not met a single person who dared to say it out loud stringently."

My cheeks warmed at the validation, though the nerves rattling my ribs had not quite dissipated. "Is he really like that all the time? Or was I just the victim of a bad mood today?"

Gwen let out a dry laugh that sent a fresh wave of dread straight into my stomach. "Oh, honey. Today was actually one of his good days."

I stiffened in my seat. That hostile, predatory staring contest was him on a good day? He looked ready to rip my head off and mount it on a wall just for breathing his air.

Gwen stacked a loose pile of medical files on her desk, aligning the edges with precise taps. "What have you heard about him prior to this interview?"

"Just the basics from the sports networks," I answered. "He is the star Center Forward for the Los Angeles Avalanches. The youngest player to ever secure a spot on the opening roster in the national hockey league. He boasts three MVP titles, and he has only played on the main roster for four years."

Gwen smirked, folding her neat hands over the folders. Her sharp gaze pinned me down with raw curiosity. "That is not what I am talking about, Brynn. The whole continent knows those statistics. Kaelen Vance, the youngest legend on ice. I am asking what you have heard about him behind the scenes."

I bit the inside of my cheek. I hesitated for a long second before deciding honesty had served me well so far.

"That he is your biggest headache?" I ventured.

Gwen burst into a loud, melodic laugh that bounced off the frosted glass walls of her office. She reached up and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, visibly delighted by the blunt response.

She sighed, shaking her head affectionately. "I like you already. You are right about that too. That kid will send me to an early grave. But just as you witnessed out there, we cannot afford to lose him. He is the main pillar of this hockey team."

The heavy oak door clicked open, cutting off the rest of Gwen's sentence. A middle-aged man stepped inside. He had a recognizable dad bod, a slouched posture, and eyes that radiated a deep, tired kindness. A massive black duffel bag was slung over his right shoulder.

I shot up from my seat. My breath caught in my throat.

No way.

This was Gabe Mercer.

If Kaelen was the young living legend of the ice, this man was my personal hero in the physical therapy world. We attended the same university program years apart, and his alumni success stories haunted the lecture halls. He had dedicated over a decade to the Los Angeles Avalanches. Knowing he possessed the raw skill to rehab so many elite athletes made my pulse skip with sheer professional admiration.

Gwen stood up, her brows furrowed. "Gabe, what are you doing here?"

Gabe hiked the heavy strap of the duffel bag higher up his shoulder. "Had to grab a few left-behind things from my locker. It is my last official day, right?"

Gwen released a tired sigh and went back to massaging the bridge of her nose. "If Kaelen catches you wandering these halls, he will physically barricade the exits to convince you to stay."

Gabe held up his free hand in a mock surrender. "Do not worry about that. I took the back corridors. He did not see me."

His warm gaze shifted across the room and landed on me. I froze under his attention, struck speechless by the presence of a titan in my field.

"Is she my replacement?" he asked.

I scrambled to assemble my professionalism. I stepped forward and held out my hand. "It is such an honor to meet you, sir. I have heard fantastic things about your techniques, and I admire your career."

He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and took my hand for a firm shake. "I did not think I would run into someone who admired my grim labor."

Gabe offered a small, crooked smile. "I appreciate the sentiment. I hope you manage to last longer than the others did. I cannot backtrack on my retirement now. My wife is going into labor any minute."

My brows pulled together in sheer confusion. I glanced sideways at Gwen.

Gwen was already waving her hands, gesturing wildly for Gabe to shut his mouth. She dropped her arms in defeat when he ignored her signals.

Gabe turned his attention back to me, his expression turning sympathetic. "I suppose I will do the honors of breaking the bad news, since Gwen clearly avoided the topic. You are not the very first person hired to replace me, unfortunately."

My heart kicked against my ribs. Not the first?

Gabe tilted his head, studying my stunned reaction. "The others only lasted a few hours. They ran for the hills the moment they faced Kaelen's attitude. But looking at you, I will say this. I think you can last a few days."

"Gabe," Gwen warned sharply.

Gabe reached out and gave my shoulder a reassuring pat. "I am kidding. Mostly."

I let out a shaky exhale, trying to interpret the sudden weight of the job.

Gabe's voice softened into something almost paternal. "I just think the previous candidates never gave him much of a chance. It took me a long while to get that kid to open up on the treatment table. But once you look past the ice and understand his damage, you will know exactly why he acts the way he does."

The sincerity in his tone made me pause. The image of Kaelen's rigid shoulders, his corded muscles, and that overt, lethal hostility flashed through my mind, now painted in a slightly different light.

Gabe offered an easy, bright smile and walked toward the exit. "Anyway, I will not keep you ladies. Good luck out there..."

"Brynn."

Gabe repeated the name, committing it to memory. "Brynn. That is a nice name. Good luck, Brynn. I am rooting for your survival."

He tossed a casual wave at Gwen and slipped back out into the hallway. The door shut behind him with a soft click, plunging the room back into a heavy, tense silence.

I turned back to the desk. Gwen looked significantly more frazzled than she had ten minutes ago.

Gwen sat upright, rolling her shoulders to slip back into her iron-clad professional persona. "Well, the cat is out of the bag. You heard the man. This is not the first time we have scrambled to hire a new physical therapist for the roster. As you are aware, sports therapists are crucial resources, especially during the pre-season conditioning phase. With the regular season fast approaching, we literally cannot afford to lose another staff member. Do you understand the stakes?"

"I understand the stakes," I replied steadily, holding her gaze.

Knowing Kaelen had chased out multiple seasoned professionals did not trigger the urge to bolt. Instead, it sent a rebellious spark through my veins. The role felt infinitely more important now. It was not just a job; it was a gauntlet.

Gwen slid a crisp sheet of paper across the polished mahogany wood. "With those conditions in mind, we are prepared to compensate you handsomely for the trouble."

I glanced down at the contract. My brain flatlined. I blinked hard and did a double take.

My eyes nearly popped out of my skull.

Was I reading those numbers right?

Eight thousand dollars. A single month.

For a rookie physical therapist fresh off the block?

Gwen leaned forward, analyzing my silence with a hawk-like intensity. "Is the salary not high enough? Gabe walked away with a higher bracket, but he carried more tenure. We can negotiate the base pay if you feel it does not cover the mental toll."

I blurted out the truth before she could misunderstand. "It is a staggering amount. Are you positive this document is correct?"

My voice cracked slightly. This steady check was triple what I barely scraped together juggling three exhausting, soul-crushing part-time gigs back home. It was enough to cover the massive debts my cheating ex Declan dumped on me. Declan had abandoned our shared lease the moment he decided sleeping with his coworker was better than paying his half of the rent. This money was my clear ticket out of the financial ruin he left behind.

Gwen tapped a manicured finger against the company letterhead. "The Avalanches do not shortchange their faculty, Brynn. Especially staff essential to keeping our franchise players glued together. You will also have your own private suite right here in the residential wing of the rink. Free room and board. You can stay on the premises whenever you need a place to crash."

I swear I heard a celestial choir of angels singing from the acoustic ceiling tiles.

Beautiful, shining golden numbers washed away every ounce of my lingering dread. The memory of my disastrous, tension-filled encounter with Kaelen vanished under a tsunami of absolute financial security. Free rent in Los Angeles and an eight-thousand-dollar monthly paycheck. The monstrous turnover rate meant nothing now.

Gwen stood up and extended her manicured hand across the desk. "Are you up for the challenge, Brynn?"

I stared at her hand for one fleeting second. I reached out and gripped it firmly. A newfound, starry-eyed determination settled deep in my chest.

"I am very glad to be working with the Avalanches."

She beamed, and I matched her smile with genuine enthusiasm.

This was not going to be an easy ride. I knew that. My life was already a chaotic mess from surviving Declan's betrayal, and now I was contract-bound to rehabilitate Kaelen Vance, a man who treated eye contact like an act of terror.

Still, with massive financial incentives padding the blow, a single reckless thought echoed in my mind.

How bad could it actually be?