002

Chloe’s Pov

I spent the entire weekend praying that the patient assignment list was just a massive mistake.

I told myself that Nathaniel Hayes was way too busy being a famous sports star to actually care about who checked his ankle or watched him stretch. He probably had an entire team of fancy, high-priced doctors waiting on him hand and foot. He didn't need a twenty-three-year-old student who served him a huge slice of humble pie on a random Tuesday afternoon.

But life has a funny way of laughing directly in my face.

On Monday evening, the rehabilitation centre held an official welcome dinner at a high-end hotel downtown. It was supposed to be a simple meet-and-greet event so the physical therapy team could get to know the professional hockey players before the heavy training season started. I dressed in my best black dress pants and a neat cream-colored blouse, hoping to blend into the background, sip my cheap orange juice, and go home early to study.

Instead, the moment I walked into the fancy banquet hall, I saw him.

And my heart did a stupid, dangerous little flip in my chest.

Nathaniel wasn't wearing his sweaty workout shorts or his navy team hoodie tonight. He was wearing a custom-tailored dark grey suit that fit his broad shoulders so perfectly it looked like an artwork. His hair was styled neatly, and he was standing near the center of the room, holding a glass of sparkling water while a crowd of executives listened to him speak like he was the king of the world. He looked wildly handsome, and I hated my brain for noticing that before reminding me that he was the most irritating man on the planet.

Before I could hide behind a nearby tray of tiny appetizers, Nathaniel turned his head. His eyes locked onto mine across the busy room. A slow, lazy smirk spread across his face, and without missing a beat, he excused himself from the group of businessmen and walked straight toward me.

"Well, well. If it isn't my favorite drill sergeant," he said, stopping right in front of me. His voice was a smooth, low rumble that sent an unwelcome chill down my spine. "I was beginning to think you skipped out on the party."

"I'm here to work, Mr. Hayes, not to party," I said, keeping my hands glued to my sides so he wouldn't see them twitching. "And I certainly didn't come here to entertain you."

Nathaniel leaned in a little bit, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on, Chloe. We're off the clock. You don't have to pretend you hate me while we're wearing nice clothes."

"I don't have to pretend," I shot back, raising an eyebrow. "It comes completely naturally to me."

Instead of getting angry, he chuckled softly. "You really don't hold back, do you? I like that. Most people just smile and nod at everything I say."

"That's because most people are afraid of you, or they want your money," I said bluntly. "I don't want either."

"Fair enough," Nathaniel said. Suddenly, he placed a warm hand on the small of my back—just for a fraction of a second—to guide me toward a couple of his giant teammates standing near the buffet table. His touch was so light, but it felt like a shock of electricity burning through my clothes.

"Hey, boys," Nathaniel called out to two massive guys who looked like human brick walls. "This is Chloe. She's the brilliant physical therapy student who told me my ego was going to ruin my lower back."

The two players burst out laughing, but I felt my face turn bright red. "Nathaniel!" I hissed under my breath.

"What? I'm giving you credit!" he laughed.

One of the players, a guy with a bushy beard, groaned. "Man, she must be good then. Because Cap here never listens to anyone. Hey, Chloe, can you fix my shoulder? The team doctor keeps giving me these ridiculous rubber band exercises that do absolutely nothing."

Before I could answer, Nathaniel stepped up next to me and spoke in a firm, surprisingly serious voice. "Listen to her, Marcus. The rehab team knows what they're doing. If she tells you to use a rubber band, you use the band. Unless you want to sit out during the playoffs like a useless lump."

I blinked, thoroughly startled. I looked up at Nathaniel, expecting him to be joking, but his face was completely steady. He had actually just backed me up. He had used his power as team captain to make his players respect my work.

"Thank you," I murmured quietly as the other players walked away. "Though you didn't have to do that."

"I only state facts, Chloe," Nathaniel said, turning his full attention back to me. He leaned against the edge of a high table, looking down at me with a soft, curious expression that made my pulse race. "So... why physical therapy? You clearly have the brain to be a high-paid surgeon or a lawyer. Why spend your days getting yelled at by ungrateful athletes?"

The question caught me off guard. For a second, the image of someone I loved sitting in a wheelchair, crying tears of total helplessness after a tragic accident, flashed across my mind. The heavy weight of that memory tightened my chest.

"I watched someone I cared about suffer through a terrible injury once," I said softly, looking down at my glass. "I saw how much pain they were in when people gave up on them. I wanted to be the person who helps people rebuild their lives, step by step. That's all."

I didn't give him any names, and I certainly didn't tell him how hard I had worked to pay for my own tuition without help from anyone. I hated letting people into my personal life, especially wealthy guys who couldn't understand what it felt like to worry about rent.

Nathaniel didn't push for details. The playful smirk was completely gone from his face now, replaced by a gentle, understanding look that made my throat feel dry.

"I get it," he said softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Hockey has been my entire life since I was a little kid. Every day, every decision... it's all for the game. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and I honestly don't even know who I am without the jersey."

For a fleeting second, the walls between us seemed to crumble away. I saw the real Nathaniel—not the rich, untouchable hockey captain, but a young man carrying a mountain of pressure on his shoulders. My heart softened just a tiny bit, and I almost reached out to touch his arm.

Then, he ruined it.

"See?" Nathaniel grinned, his arrogant dimple popping back up. "If you keep looking at me like that, you might actually realize I'm not the monster you think I am."

I opened my mouth, ready to fire back a razor-sharp insult, but before a single word could exit my lips, a loud, high-pitched voice interrupted us.

"Nathaniel, darling!"

A stunning woman in a tight, floor-length red dress glided over to us. She had flawless makeup, golden blonde hair, and the kind of effortless confidence that screamed massive wealth. She stepped right between us, wrapping her arms around Nathaniel's neck and kissing his cheek with absolute familiarity.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," she purred, brushing a speck of dust off his expensive jacket.

Nathaniel didn't pull away. "Hey, Victoria," he said naturally.

This was Victoria Laurent. I recognized her immediately from sports magazines. Her family owned major sports marketing companies, and she was basically royalty in this city. She turned her head toward me, her sharp blue eyes scanning my simple clothes with a look of amusement.

"And who is your little friend?" Victoria asked, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

A sudden, sharp spike of irritation flared up in my chest. I told myself it was just annoyance at seeing another rich girl feed his huge ego, but deep down, it felt suspiciously like jealousy.

"I'm Chloe, part of the rehab staff," I said, keeping my head held high. "And I was just leaving."

I turned on my heel, eager to escape the suffocating air of the room before I did something stupid. But before I could take two steps toward the exit, a slender hand reached out and lightly caught my wrist.

I stopped and looked back. Victoria was smiling at me, but her eyes were cold and full of hidden meaning.

"Don't run off so fast, Chloe," Victoria whispered, leaning in closer so Nathaniel couldn't hear us over the loud room noise. "Nathaniel has been talking about you non-stop all week. In all the years I've known him, I have never seen him this obsessed with a girl who refuses to give him what he wants."