Preview: You caught a glimpse of number 88 and your heart fluttered. You couldn't deny the small crush you had developed on the blonde Czech. You shook the thoughts from your mind.
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You walked into work ready for a long day of working with sweaty hockey players. It shouldn't be too rough of a day; it was just practice to prepare for tomorrow's game. Coach had called a last minute practice at the arena. So you quickly got dressed, threw your hair in a pony and headed for the rink.
You had recently graduated with your physical therapy degree and were interning with the Boston Bruins. It could be intimidating working with hockey players, their careers literally in your hands at times.
You parked your car in the garage of the. You zipped your Bruins windbreaker halfway and braced yourself for the cold. You stopped at the kitchen grabbing a coffee. You ran into the equipment manager as you headed for the back examine room.
"Hey Y/N, James couldn't make it in today so he said You're in charge." He threw at you quickly.
You stopped in your tracks. "Wait what?"
"You're in charge." He quipped again with a shrug.
You took a deep breath, taking another chug of your coffee. You prayed no one would get hurt today.
You fixed up the examine room, making sure everything was place. Once you were sure you had everything for every possible situation, you headed out to the rink.
You stood behind the bench, watching the men go from side of the rink to the other. You continued to sip on your coffee as your eyes drifted following the players.
You caught a glimpse of number 88 and your heart fluttered. You couldn't deny the small crush you had developed on the blonde Czech. You shook the thoughts from your mind. There was no way he reciprocated the feelings. He would send you small smiles here and there, but you were sure that was just him being polite.
You were pulled from your daydreams when your name was being called.
"Y/N, can you check out my ankle? I think I landed on it funny during that last play." Bergeron asked.
"Of course, follow me." You smiled and led him to the examine room.
He jumped up on the examine table.
You looked at him curiously. "Didn't you just say your ankle hurt?"
He looked guilty suddenly. "Oh yeah, stupid me. Hope I didn't make it worse." He answered quickly.
You sat on the rolling chair and began to take off his skate.
Bergeron spoke up as you untied his laces.
"You know David, is quite the hockey player isn't he?"
You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Pastrnak? He is quite the hockey player. You all are. You guys are on a professional hockey team."
You went back to what you were doing. You slowly peeled his skate off hoping not to injure him anymore. You were surprised when you were met with an unscathed ankle.
You examined it once again, looking at it from every ankle. You hadn't noticed that Bergeron was still rambling on about Pastrnak.
"You are fine Bergeron. What even made you think you hurt it?" you questioned suddenly.
"Oh it just felt funny. Guess I was wrong. Thanks Y/N!" He laced up his skates and was off. You just shook your head and weren't too far behind him.
You stood behind the bench once more, and watched as Bergy skated back to the small group and mumbled something to Marchand and Rask. It wasn't more than a few minutes before suddenly Rask was in your face asking you to examine his wrist.
You led him back to the examine room. He began shedding his gear as you sat down in the chair.
"You are 22 right?" he asked blatantly.
"Yes I am, although I'm not sure how this relates to your wrist Rask. Hand it over."
He stretched out his arm and you began to examine as he continued.
"Would you date someone younger than you?" he asked.
You almost choked on your own saliva. You decided to ignore his comments and continued searching for even a bruise at this point.
"It is a legitimate question!" He defended.
"I can't see anything wrong with this wrist Rask."
"The glove must have saved me there. It must have just stung. Thanks for the help Y/N." he answered.
He put his gear back on as you cleaned up. You both headed back to the ice and he immediately joined in a chat with Brad and Bergeron. They looked back at you and the doubts began to creep into your mind.
What were they doing? Was this some hazing ritual? Were they trying to make you look stupid? All these thoughts raced through your head and you suddenly just wished James was here and you were once again just an intern.
You watched another play be run and suddenly you watched as Marchand checked Pastrnak a little too had and he went into the boards. Pastrnak insisted he was fine but Brad dragged him by a sleeve to the bench.
"He needs to be checked out"
You nodded and followed them both to the back.
David sat on the table and he continued to convince Brad he was fine.
"Shut it Pasta." He quickly commanded and he turned to you as you went to examine Pastrnak.
You couldn't find anything wrong. The doubts slowly found their way back into your mind.
"Is this some sort of joke or something?" you asked suddenly, slamming down your clipboard. You could feel the tears brimming in your eyes.
"I-I don't know what you are talking about Y/N." David stuttered.
"I'm not stupid, this is the third time someone has come in here with a fake injury. If you are trying to make me feel dumb, it's working." You answered gripping the counter.
"I would never do that" he tried.
Brad suddenly interjected. "It's not his fault, it was us."
"What?" you turned on your heels quickly.
"We might have been trying to get intel on you for Noodles here. He likes you but he is so shy that he refused to make a move. So we were trying to be his wingmen. Did it maybe work?" he asked sheepishly.
You and David both had the same shocked look on your face.
"I didn't set them up to this I swear!" David defended.
You nodded and finished cleaning up. Brad excused himself but David lingered.
"I didn't set them up to it, but it is true. I do like you. Maybe I could see you outside of work sometime?" He said softly.
You blushed and turned to face him.
"You have some pretty dedicated wingmen, how could I say no?"
