Not Like the Others

Brynn’s POV

"Damn, you are really good at this." Alden groaned in pure relief and let his head drop back against the padded treatment table.

I kept my hands moving in a steady rhythm and worked my thumbs deep into the thick muscle fibers surrounding his knee. I was easing out the stubborn stiffness that had built up overnight. "I just know exactly where to press."

"I find it hard to believe this is your first time working as a sports team physical therapist. You are a natural."

A small smile tugged at my mouth. The praise sent a bloom of warmth straight through my chest. I focused on maintaining the perfect amount of pressure on his injured joint. "I have been doing this for my dad for years. My old coworkers usually came to me too whenever something hurt. I guess I just got better over time through sheer repetition."

Even when I struggled to land a job that actually utilized my degree, I always found ways to use my hands. I treated Piper, the building janitor who suffered from chronic lower back pain. I taped up my landlady whenever she insisted on lifting furniture twice her weight. I even worked on the fruit vendor down our street who stubbornly refused to rest his worn-out shoulders. Watching the sharp tension bleed out of a person’s body always made something settle inside me. I liked fixing things. I liked taking the pain away.

I gave his kneecap one final, light pat and stepped back from the table. "You are all done for today. We do not want to overstimulate the joint tissue before you get on the ice. You have that big practice game coming up soon."

Alden hopped off the edge of the bed. He tested his weight on the leg and bounced from side to side in his sneakers. A massive grin broke across his face. "Yo, I feel light as a feather right now."

The heavy rehab room door suddenly swung open.

"Yo, cap. I need more footage. The big boss wants more Kaelen content for the feed."

A tall, lanky guy strolled into the room. He wore a slouchy beanie and sported sleeves of dark tattoos down both arms. Multiple metallic piercings caught the fluorescent light every time he moved his head. He stopped dead in his tracks the second he spotted me standing by the treatment table. His dark brows shot up toward his hairline.

"New PT?"

Alden nodded smoothly and grabbed his water bottle. "Yup. Wyatt, this is Brynn. Brynn, this is Wyatt. He is our photographer, videographer, and social media manager. He handles basically everything concerning the digital realm for the team."

I gave him a quick, polite wave. "Nice to meet you."

Wyatt did not return the gesture. Instead, he studied me from head to toe with a knowing smirk pulling at his mouth. "Let me guess. You are here for Lachlan? Or maybe the twins? Actually, never mind. You are probably here for Kaelen. Most of the past physical therapists were."

I stared at him in confusion. "What?"

Wyatt leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. "Do not try to get into his pants. It gets incredibly messy. I still remember that red-haired girl who almost pulled it off last season. She ruined everything. The entire team could not practice well for a whole week because of the fallout!"

I straightened my spine and let my professional demeanor harden into stone. The memory of Declan and everything I had sacrificed for my family surged to the front of my mind. "I am not here for anyone on this roster. I am here exclusively for myself and my family."

Wyatt blinked. The smug amusement melted right off his face, replaced by genuine shock. "Huh. That is definitely new."

Alden casually slung a heavy arm over my shoulder and gave me a reassuring squeeze before Wyatt could push the issue any further. "Brynn is not like the others. She is actually here to work, and she is really damn good at it too."

A much more authentic smile curved Wyatt's lips. He gave me a respectful nod this time. "I like you already, Brynn. I just hope you survive the wrath of Kaelen Vance."

I shrugged my shoulders and began wiping down the treatment table with a disinfectant wipe. "Trust me. I have dealt with far worse things than a grumpy hockey player."

Alden chuckled deep in his chest. He dug into the front pocket of his sweatpants, pulled out a glossy paper voucher, and held it out to me. "Go grab yourself a drink. There is a place right around the corner."

I glanced down at the gold-embossed lettering on the card and nearly did a double take. "Lumina?"

The name alone practically reeked of wealth. Lumina was infamous in the city. They were known for serving massively overpriced wellness drinks catered specifically to rich people who did not blink twice at spending twenty dollars on blended fruit. I had never even stepped foot inside one of their fancy stores.

I pushed the voucher back toward him. "Oh, you do not have to give me this."

Alden waved off my refusal and shoved the card directly into my hand. "Come on. You earned it after surviving your first encounter with Kaelen yesterday. Plus, the team is sponsored by Lumina. We have unlimited vouchers lying around."

I stared at the golden ticket in my palm. "Thank you."

Getting a simple smoothie from Lumina felt less like ordering a casual drink and much more like attending a high-end theatrical presentation. The overly enthusiastic barista spent five full minutes explaining exactly where the exotic berries came from. She detailed how they were ethically harvested by hand and even mentioned the specific mountain altitude of the farms where they were grown.

By the time she finally handed over my drink, I honestly was not sure if the smoothie actually tasted better than normal or if I was merely trying to mentally justify the fact that it cost twenty-eight dollars for a basic sixteen-ounce cup.

Either way, it tasted fantastic.

I strolled back through the sprawling concrete parking lot and headed toward the side entrance of the rink. A small, blissful smile rested on my face as I slurped the rich, sweet blend of expensive berries through the thick paper straw. The crisp air felt nice against my skin. The day was actually turning out to be pretty great.

Then a hard, bruising shove slammed directly between my shoulder blades.

I gasped and stumbled wildly forward. My boots scraped against the rough asphalt as I fought to keep my balance. My grip loosened in the chaos, just enough for the slick plastic cup to slip right through my fingers. It hit the pavement with a sickening crack. The lid popped off, sending a thick wave of purple slush splashing over the dark ground.

"No!"

My twenty-eight-dollar smoothie was gone. Sure, it was technically free because of the captain's voucher, but the tragedy remained harsh.

I spun around with a fierce scowl upon my face, fully prepared to yell at whoever had just bulldozed into me. The angry words died instantly in my throat.

A terrifying, frantic mob of people was stampeding past me. Boys and girls of all ages were sprinting through the rows of parked cars like feral animals on a hunt. They moved like a tidal wave of obsession, destroying the quiet peace of the parking lot. They clutched phones and massive cameras in their hands. Their loud, overlapping voices rang out in a chaotic frenzy of pure fanaticism.

"Do not waste this chance! We have to find him right now!"

"His matte black car is still parked over here! He did not go inside the building yet!"

"Where the hell is he?!"

They did not even register my existence. They scattered like a pack of starving wolves, checking behind every massive SUV, peering into every shadow, and scouring the lot with unhinged desperation.

I stood frozen in the middle of the pavement. I opened my mouth to demand an apology, but nobody spared me a single glance. They just kept running and screaming.

I let out a heavy, defeated sigh. I looked down at the ruined mess of fruit at my feet. I squatted down, picked up the cracked plastic cup, and held it to my chest for a second longer than strictly necessary. Then I started walking toward the large green dumpsters lined up behind the rink's exterior wall to throw away the tragic remains.

A moment of silence for my fallen drink.

I tossed the sticky cup into the trash bin. As I pivoted on my heel to walk away, a shift in the dark shadows caught my attention. I narrowed my eyes and squinted toward the narrow gap between the brick wall and the last metal dumpster. A tall, broad-shouldered figure was wedged tight into the dirty corner.

"Kaelen?" I called out cautiously into the gloom.

His head snapped up in a flash. Those sharp, icy eyes locked onto mine in an instant. He looked lethal and profoundly irritated.

"What the fuck are you doing back here?" he hissed.

I stared at him in disbelief. For a massive guy heavily rumored to be a severe, chronic germaphobe who hated everything dirty, hiding behind a literal garbage dumpster felt wildly out of character.

"Be quiet right now." He snapped the words through gritted teeth.

"I heard his voice!" a high-pitched shriek sliced through the air nearby. "He is over this way! Come on!"

Kaelen squeezed his eyes shut and bumped his head back against the brick. "Shit."

And just like that, the puzzle pieces slammed firmly into place. The mob. The cameras. The screaming. They were hunting him.

I did not give myself the luxury of overthinking the situation. My body moved on pure, chaotic survival instinct. I lunged forward into the shadows and grabbed his bare hand. His skin felt ridiculously cold and firm under my palm. I wrapped my fingers tight around his heavy knuckles and yanked him forward.

"Move!" I whispered harshly.

I dragged him out from behind the dumpster and forced him to run alongside me. We moved fast. My lungs burned with the sudden exertion. The cold air whipped against my flushed cheeks as we dodged around the rear bumper of a massive pickup truck. We weaved through the tight paths between the parked cars, keeping our heads down to avoid the roaming packs of fans. The adrenaline spiked hot and fast in my blood.

The moment we rounded the corner of the building, a fresh wave of girls turned into the same aisle.

Kaelen cursed vehemently behind me. He immediately shifted our momentum. He yanked his hand backward, dragging me this time. He practically threw us behind a large maintenance van to break their line of sight.

"What the hell is our security team doing today?" he muttered darkly. He glared toward the main entrance in the distance, watching the crowd thicken into a solid wall of bodies.

"The back entrance." He made the decision in a split second and pulled me along with him again.

I let him guide me through the maze of vehicles. I glanced up and really looked at his tense profile this time.

Was this what his daily life actually looked like? The constant chasing. The terrifying lack of personal space. Having no room to just breathe and exist like a normal human being. It honestly felt utterly exhausting to witness, let alone live through on a daily basis.

My gaze dropped briefly to our joined hands. Our fingers were still tightly clasped together. He had almost murdered me just yesterday for accidentally falling against his chest, yet he had not pushed me away once during this mad dash. Maybe the dire necessity of escaping a stalker mob overrode his intense physical preferences.

We finally reached the steel security door marking the back entrance. The narrow alleyway was currently empty, but the heavy metal door was shut tight. Kaelen grabbed the handle and shoved it hard. It rattled uselessly in its frame. Locked.

"Fuck." He snapped his jaw shut and ripped his phone out of his pocket. He dialed a number with lightning-fast thumb strikes and put it on speaker. "Gwen. Open the back entrance right now."

A frantic, crackling voice echoed through the tiny speaker. "We are on it! I am so sorry, Kaelen! Give us a minute!"

We waited in agonizing silence. A minute felt like an eternity. The distinct sound of rubber soles hitting the pavement echoed from the corner of the building. The footsteps were multiplying. They were getting closer this time. Louder.

They were coming directly toward this specific alley.

A wild, irrational idea hit me like a runaway freight train. It was insane, but it was the only viable cover I could come up with given our severe lack of options.

"Take off your team jacket," I demanded, keeping my voice low.

He stared at me like I had lost my mind. "What?"

I did not wait for his permission. I stepped straight into his space, grabbed the thick fabric by the lapels, and forcefully yanked it off his broad shoulders. The smooth fabric fought my grip, but I ripped it down his long arms anyway. I bundled the black and silver jacket into a ball and tossed it directly behind a nearby potted plant to hide the distinct team logo.

"Hey! Do you know how much that custom jacket costs?" he protested, his voice low and furious.

"It is not important right now!" I shot back. My heart was hammering out a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

The voices were right there. They were mere seconds away from rounding the corner and discovering us trapped against the locked door.

I stepped deeply into his personal space. I forced him backward until his broad spine hit the solid brick wall. I closed the gap between us until there was no air left to share.

I rose high onto the tips of my toes. I wrapped both of my arms firmly around the back of his thick neck. I angled my body up, pulling his head down just enough to block his famous face completely from the alleyway's view.

"Hey, new PT." His voice dropped into a dark, lethal warning. "If you think this is—"

I did not let him finish the threat.

I pressed my lips against his.