CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"Hey. Glad you could make it," Dom said as he met Shea at the player entrance and let him into the back hallway of the practice facility. "Here's your temporary access badge. Security will get you a more permanent one soon."

"Thanks." Shea took the badge. "A couple of my colleagues are filling in for my appointments, so I have the rest of the day off."

"Glad it worked out," Dom said.

The door closed, the bright afternoon sunshine outside disappearing and leaving them both blinking in the dimmer hallway.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, staring at each other.

Dom still wasn't sure how he was supposed to act around Shea when they were in public or, really, anywhere that wasn't Dom's apartment, where he was sure they were alone.

"How are you doing?" Shea asked, frowning.

Dom shrugged. "Everything hurts like a bitch and I'm scared shitless that they're going to tell me I've already played my last NHL game."

Out of nowhere, his throat went tight and he had to blink rapidly.

"Oh, baby ," Shea said softly, his tone worried as he reached out, his hand awkwardly hovering in the air beside Dom's cheek for a moment before he let it fall.

Dom felt a sudden jolt, deep in his core, at the nickname. He'd heard Shea say that before. In that same voice.

He frowned, trying to remember when that would have been.

"Sorry. I—I don't know what made me call you that. I won't do it again if you hate it. And let me know how touchy-feely you want me to get. Even though we need to sell this to the public, I know you're probably not a big PDA guy."

"I'm not," Dom said absently, wracking his brain for when Shea might have called him that before. "I mean, a little PDA is fine. You can touch me but I'm never going to be one of those guys who wants to hold hands all the time or make out in front of other people."

"No, really? I'm shocked," Shea teased.

Dom managed a half-hearted grin.

Seriously. When had Shea called him that before?

Dom asked and Shea blinked for a moment before looking away, glancing down the empty hallway.

"It was the night when you mixed up your meds," he admitted softly, his voice going a little hoarse. "I was so fucking terrified of what might happen to you and I … I don't know. It slipped out."

"Shit." Without thinking, Dom reached out and pulled him close. "I am sorry I scared you that way. I never meant to."

"I know." Shea was tense for a moment before he softened, ducking his head a little to press his lips to Dom's cheek. "I know you didn't, baby."

He said the ‘baby' hesitantly, like he was testing it out.

Dom stood there a moment, soaking in Shea's warmth and the feel of his arms around him and the sound of the nickname echoing in his ear.

It felt a little silly. He was a 6'2" forty-year-old hockey player for fuck's sake.

But he didn't hate it.

"That's weird," Dom admitted, pulling back far enough to look Shea in the eye. "Being called baby."

Shea lifted an eyebrow. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Yeah?" Shea gave him a crooked little grin, like he was surprised and pleased. "Okay."

Dom glanced down the hall to be sure no one was around and when he was satisfied they were alone, he cupped Shea's cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. He felt Shea's breath catch when he slipped his tongue between Shea's lips for a brief but thorough hello and they were both smiling as they drew apart, Dom's hand lingering on his waist.

Dom swallowed. "I mean it. I'm glad you came today. I'm glad you asked to come."

Some emotion flickered across Shea's face, too quick and complicated for Dom to read. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. "Yeah, I am."

"Good."

"We should get going though," Dom admitted. "C'mon, I'll give you the five-cent tour on the way and then maybe another time I'll show you around the whole place."

"Sounds good."

Dom stepped back, already missing Shea's touch.

His nerves returned as he led Shea through the maze of hallways. "Locker room's there," he said, pointing at the closed doors. "Training and medical stuff is this way."

Dom was a few minutes early for his appointment but Dr. Strickland's office door was open. He was working on something on his computer.

Dom knocked on the doorframe and he glanced up with a smile. "Hey, Dom."

"Hey. Are you ready for me?" Dom asked.

Dr. Strickland nodded. "Yeah, come in. Let me just finish my thought and I'll be right with you."

Dom stepped back to let Shea go in before him, then pulled the door tightly closed behind him. Dom's heart sat somewhere in his throat, beating so fast he felt a little light-headed.

Fuck . He simultaneously wanted this meeting to already be over with and to never happen. The next twenty minutes or so would change the rest of his career.

Probably the rest of his life.

After Dom was done introducing Shea to the team doctor and vice versa, they took their seats.

Dr. Strickland rolled his chair away from his desk, coming around the side of it so the three of them made a small triangle, then picked up his tablet. "So, I'm going to get right to it, Dom, and tell you the good news."

"Yeah?" Dom said. He pressed his knee against Shea's thigh, grateful for the solid pressure back.

God he was glad Shea was there.

He hadn't thought he'd need it. He'd made it through all of his previous injury shit on his own. But there was something to be said for not having to go through it alone.

Something comforting about knowing there was someone here to support him and only him. Someone who had nothing to do with the team.

"Yes. You don't have a herniated disc." Dr. Strickland beamed.

"Really?" Dom asked, surprised. "I—are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Dr. Strickland turned the large tablet so Dom and Shea could see the screen. "You absolutely have the typical wear and tear of a professional hockey player your age. There is some spinal degeneration in your lumbar region. We can see the beginnings of some arthritis forming there which will need to be addressed later, probably, but on the whole, your discs look remarkably healthy."

"They do." Shea sounded surprised which Dom found mildly insulting.

But Dom frowned at the doctor rather than give Shea crap about the comment. "So what's the bad news?"

Dr. Strickland looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, if that's the good news, what's the bad news?"

"Dom, it's pretty much all good news," Dr. Strickland said slowly. "There is something we'll have to address before you can get on the ice again but compared to the recovery time for a herniated disc, it's pretty minor."

Dom blinked. "What the hell is it then?"

Dr. Strickland swiped through the images, then nodded at Shea. "Your boyfriend may be able to identify it, actually."

Shea frowned, leaning toward the screen to get a better look. His brows drew together further as he studied it. "Is that … is that a gluteal artery aneurysm?"

"It is!" Dr. Strickland looked delighted. "I take it you've seen them before."

"Well, not in real life," Shea said with a grin. "Just in classes. But it's pretty obvious, no?"

Dr. Strickland nodded happily. "Yeah, it's very clear in this shot here." He gestured to the screen.

"Wow, but he has no external symptoms," Shea said. "That's so unusual."

Dom looked between them, a little annoyed. "Would anyone like to share what's going on with my body with me ?"

He was feeling completely out of the loop and like they were nerding out about whatever medical condition he had going on.

All he'd understood was the word aneurysm and he'd thought that was like … a stroke. Since they were looking at something he was pretty sure was not his brain, he was incredibly confused.

"Sorry." Shea sat back and patted his thigh. "It's just fascinating."

"So glad my back issues are entertaining you," Dom said drily but he did feel a little relieved that Shea seemed more excited about what was happening than upset or worried.

That was a good sign, right?

Shea chuckled. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know."

"But I'll shut up now and let Dr. Strickland talk." Shea didn't lift his hand from Dom's thigh though and Dom didn't attempt to move it.

Did the physical affection in front of someone in the organization feel weird and like he was on display? Hell yes. But he didn't want Shea to think he was ashamed of him or something.

Dom had done more than enough of that to Christian.

And, truth be told, it felt kinda nice. Like Shea's soft, worried ‘ baby' had. Weird, but not necessarily bad.

"Okay." Dr. Strickland cleared his throat. "So, you know your arteries carry the blood to your muscles and other tissue, yes?"

Dom assumed that was aimed at him so he nodded.

Dr. Strickland continued. "An aneurysm is when there's a weak spot on the artery wall. That can take place anywhere in your body. There are multiple causes for them, some of which are genetic, but in your case, it appears to be due to an injury. That would technically make what you have a pseudoaneurysm, but we'll stick to aneurysm to keep it simple."

"An injury?" Dom echoed, confused. Also, nothing about this seemed simple to him, but whatever. He'd muddle through and hope it all made sense at the end. "What injury did I have that would have caused this?"

"Well," Dr. Strickland said, pointing to the image on the screen. Even Dom could tell that it was of his hips. He didn't know a lot about x-ray images but that one was pretty obvious. "This one was taken from the front, so this is your right hip here, and your left hip here. The aneurysm is essentially tucked between your left hip joint and your gluteus maximus, so it's invisible in this particular shot."

Dom knew what the gluteus maximus was. The big meaty part of his ass. He said as much to Dr. Strickland, who laughed and nodded.

"It's probably a little hard for you to see in this image so let me switch to a 3D rendering that shows your circulatory system. Your heart is here." He pointed to it with his pen, then traced it partway down what looked to Dom like a big cord. "These red things are your kidneys." He pointed to two bean-shaped things on either side of that cord.

"Okay," Dom said slowly.

"As we travel toward your feet, do you see where it branches?"

Dom nodded.

"On the right, it continues to branch. But on the left here, you see the big red blob?"

"Yes."

"That's the aneurysm. The wall of the artery has ballooned out but hasn't burst. The pressure from that is partly what's causing the nerve issues you mentioned recently. As that balloon grows, it presses more and more on the nerves and causes numbness and weakness. It's also caused an imbalance in your hips, which has contributed to your back pain. Eventually, left untreated, it would cause atrophy to the muscles it feeds."

Dom stared. "And this is all good news?"

Dr. Strickland beamed. "It is! I know it sounds scary but compared to disc surgery, it's relatively easy to treat."

"Wait, before we talk about that," Dom said, feeling a little overwhelmed. "How did this happen? You said there was an injury ?"

"Oh, yes. So do you remember in January when you took that hard hit from Luke Crawford in the game against Boston?"

"Sure." Dom frowned. "A check from him is like hitting a brick wall and I got slammed into the boards and went down hard. My ass was bruised for— oh ."

"Yes," Dr. Strickland said grimly. "You were limping after, so we did some scans but the best I can tell is that it was a very slow-growing aneurysm. It would have taken a while for the blood to begin to pool, so it was undetectable in the initial testing and, unfortunately, it was in a spot where it was very difficult to get a clear angle of it anyway."

"So that seems dangerous," Dom said with a frown. "I mean, you can't have your arteries ballooned out like that, right?"

"Correct. You were very fortunate that none of the hits you sustained since then were either forceful enough or at the right—or wrong, in this case—angle to do further damage. If it had hemorrhaged, it would have been life-threatening."

"Jesus." Dom felt a little shaky and Shea squeezed his leg reassuringly.

Dom suddenly felt grateful that he hadn't been playing enough minutes or considered enough of a threat for teams to go after him much. He'd taken hits, sure. But nothing major since that one from Crawford.

It was possible that his declining play had actually saved his life. Fuck .

"But it truly is good news, Dom," Shea said softly. "This is treatable, like Dr. Strickland said."

Dom glanced over, searching his face for reassurance. Shea looked calm and relaxed, the expression in his blue eyes warm and comforting. It made the tightness in Dom's chest loosen and he was able to draw in a deep breath.

"Yeah, okay," he said before he turned back to Dr. Strickland. "So how do we treat it?"

Dr. Strickland described the procedure.

It was surgery, but it would be minimally invasive. They'd snake a wire in through Dom's groin to repair the artery. If everything went well, he'd have to be in the hospital for a couple of days before being released to go home.

There would be a rest period to heal before he would be able to train again. And then he'd need to condition to get back to playing form.

"How long before I'm back on the ice?" he asked with a frown.

"Even if we get you in for surgery next week, definitely not before the regular season ends. But as long as there are no complications or setbacks? You could make it back in time for post-season. Maybe a few weeks into it. I can't promise you that, but that would be my projected outcome."

Dom glanced over at Shea who nodded. "That seems very plausible to me too. Assuming you and the team are comfortable with it, Dom, I can help with the post-surgery rehab. Help you keep in as good of condition as possible while you're out."

Dr. Strickland chuckled. "I can't say I've ever had a player who had a live-in PT but I certainly don't see any downsides to that. It can only help."

"Well," Dom said, head still spinning from all of the information but feeling hopeful for the first time in over a month. "I guess I'm going to have to light a fire under the guys' asses to get us as deep into the post-season as possible then. Because I want to keep playing."

"So, what do you think?" Dom asked after he and Shea left Dr. Strickland's office. "Should we go celebrate?"

"Yeah, I'd love that." Shea smiled.

"I was thinking we could do dinner out—"

"How did it go?" a woman called out and Shea turned to see Kate striding down the hallway.

"Kate," Dom said, sounding surprised, his tone a little teasing. "What are you doing here? Were you stalking me or something?"

She grinned. "Just a little bit. I did have something I needed to speak to Gilly about but I knew you had the appointment today and, well …"

Dom laughed. "It's like you actually like me or something."

"You're alright," she said with chuckle before glancing at Shea. "And hi, good to see you again."

"You too."

Kate looked between them. "Obviously, you don't need to tell me anything if you don't want to, Dom, but—"

"It's good news," Dom said with an easy smile. "Great news, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Apparently, I have an aneurysm."

"That doesn't sound like great news," Kate said slowly.

Dom explained the situation and relief crossed her face when he was done. She reached out and touched his arm. "Oh, I am so glad to hear it. Both for your sake, and because it'll be great to have you back for the post-season."

They made small talk for a few minutes before Kate's phone buzzed. She glanced at it, then excused herself. "Sorry. I should run. I promised my husband I would be home earlier tonight. He's very patient with my erratic schedule so I try not to take that for granted."

"Of course," Dom said, pressing a hand to Shea's back to urge him to fall into step beside Kate as they all walked toward the exit. "Enjoy your evening. We were actually talking about heading home to change and then going to a nice dinner to celebrate the good news."

Her face brightened. "Perfect! Enjoy! And keep me updated on your procedure date, please."

"I will."

They turned a corner and came face-to-face with a young man. Shea would hardly have noticed him, except both Dom and Kate looked startled.

Disproportionately startled.

He wasn't that noteworthy. He was attractive but he carried himself with a hunched, awkward posture. Maybe he was more important than Shea knew.

"K-kaate." The guy blinked, swallowing hard. "What are you doing here?"

"Meeting with Gilly," she said slowly. "What are you doing here, Mitchell? I told you that you could head home for the day."

His eyes widened. "I was. I mean, I am, but I, uhm, I was just getting my steps in for the day." He held up his wrist, showing off his smart watch.

"Right," Kate said, brows drawing together. "Well, next time, please stay out of the player areas unless I'm with you. Just because your badge gives you access doesn't mean you should be here."

He gulped. "Sure. Yeah, of course, Kate. Sorry. I shouldn't have—it won't happen again."

He turned and quickly walked away before she could respond, heading straight for the door that led to the parking lot with a tense, awkward gait.

When the door closed tightly behind him, Kate turned to look at Dom. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Rarely," Dom said with a dry touch of humor in his voice, but he was frowning. "In this case, it seemed to me like he was snooping around."

"Exactly," Kate said grimly.

Puzzled, Shea tried to figure out what they were talking about. He spoke softly. "Wait, is this about the leak? Dom mentioned it could be someone within the organization."

"Yes." Kate glanced at him. "Mitchell Nash is my assistant. And the son of Mark Goodwin."

"Oh. Right, we talked about that after the gala you went to with Audra."

Dom nodded, then frowned at Kate. "Did Mitchell know about my appointment?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "I don't think so … no, wait. He was in my office earlier when Gilly called and I mentioned something about it. Fuck! I didn't think about that."

He winced. "I get it."

"No, I should have been more careful," she said firmly. "I'm sorry, Dom."

He nodded and rubbed his face. "It happens. I guess the good news is, if this make it into JockGossip , we'll have a good idea of who the culprit is."

"True." Kate shook her head. "I still can't believe it though. Why on earth would he do that? What possible motive could he have?"

"That's the million-dollar question, isn't it?" Dom said with a sigh.