Chapter Fifteen

Reeve

"That's it, nice and slow," she encourages. "Remember, we're just focusing on flexibility right now. No weight-bearing exercises for that lower body yet."

I nod, gritting my teeth slightly to the pain and discomfort, but no one said that recovery would be easy. "What about my upper body? I feel like I'm losing muscle mass by the day."

Keely considers this. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. We should keep your upper body strength up while we work on your knee."

"The gym at Hawkeyes stadium is always open," I suggest. "We could use that if you want."

Her eyes light up. "That's perfect."

As we finish the stretch, I clear my throat. "There's a home game next week. Sam's clearing me to attend, and the press will probably want to see me there. Would you be interested in coming with me?"

Keely raises an eyebrow. "In your seats?" she asks, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

I chuckle. "Well, I was thinking we'd sit with the fans this time. But next home game, I'll take you up to the owner's box. You can meet Phil Carlton and 'the girls.'"

"The girls?" Keely asks, curiosity piqued.

"The women who run the back office," Reeve explains. "They also happen to be dating most of our starting lineup."

Keely laughs. "Sounds like quite a group. I'd love to meet them."

"Thanks for the ride, man," I tell Brent as he parks in the Hawkeyes parking lot after picking me up.

We're barely through the main entrance when I hear a familiar voice. "Reeve! Hold up a second."

I turn to see Sam jogging towards me, a woman I now know as Rowan Summers trailing behind him.

"I'll meet you in there," Brent says, and I wave as Brent heads for the gym.

"Hey, Sam," I greet him, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "I know you said I could be here now, but if it's a problem—"

Sam chuckles, cutting me off. "No, no, I remember. I'm glad to see you looking better, kid."

I relax a bit, offering a small smile. "Thanks, I'm feeling better too."

That's when I notice Rowan more closely. She's attractive, in a polished sort of way, with a press badge hanging around her neck. Sam catches my curious glance and gestures to her.

"Reeve, this is Rowan Summers. She's a reporter who'll be doing a piece on the Hawkeyes."

Rowan steps forward, extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Reeve. I've heard a lot about you."

I shake her hand, noticing the way her eyes light up with interest. "All good things, I hope?" I ask.

Sam interjects before Rowan can respond. "Speaking of which, how are things going with Keely and rehab?"

"Things are good," I reply, my eyes inadvertently shifting to Rowan. She's smiling, hanging on every word as if it's the most fascinating thing she's ever heard. It's a bit unnerving.

Sam nods, seemingly satisfied. "Great to hear. Listen, Reeve, Rowan here will be covering your recovery as part of her story. She'll be at the home games, so if you could spare some time for questions, that'd be great."

I feel a twinge of apprehension but nod anyway. "Sure, I can do that."

Rowan's smile widens. "I promise I'll make it as painless as possible," she says. "But your comeback story will really add some dimension and give readers someone more than just a big franchise to root for. It's more personal."

"Sure, whatever you need," I tell her, but giving away personal information about myself doesn't always come easy to me.

"Thanks, Reeve. I'll see you soon," she says and then turns back to Sam.

As I watch Sam and Rowan walk away, I can't help but wonder what I've just gotten myself into.

When I walk back into the gym, Brent is spotting Lake who's doing squat reps.

"What took you so long, you were right behind me," Brent says.

"Sam caught me and wanted to introduce me to Rowan Summers. I guess part of her piece is going to be on me and my recovery."

"She wants to interview you for the story she's doing on the Hawkeyes?" Brent asks.

"I guess so," I say, moving towards the chair that Seven set up for me last time.

I'd like to jump in and at least work on some upper body work like Keely and I discussed, but I should wait until we can work on it together. I'm anxious to get back into shape, but I'm smart enough to know that I should wait to see what Keely thinks is safe to try.

"Of course she wants Reeve's story. The star player saved a woman in need and suffered a possible career-ending injury. It's a comeback story waiting to happen," Kaenan says.

Lake drops the weights off his shoulders and takes a couple of cleansing breaths.

"And Sam is giving her full access," Lake adds.

"Why does Coach Bex not like her again?" I ask.

I hear the door to the gym close as if someone just walked in.

"Because she sticks her nose where it doesn't belong, and I don't like a snoop," Coach Bex says, his British accent always a little thicker when he's pissed.

He walks into the room, his posture its usual board-straight, his serious facial expression characteristically unreadable. I can count up the times I've seen Coach Bex smile on one finger—once.

"Isn't that literally the job title of a reporter?" Brent snickers.

"That doesn't mean I want her coming around to distract my players with frivolous questions when we should be focused on winning a championship," Coach Bex says, his annoyance for the pint-sized reporter clearly evident. "But she's not your problem and I'm making sure that Sam keeps her out of your hair. If she bothers you too much, come tell me." He turns his attention to the others. "Now, shouldn't you lot be training?"

As the guys scramble back to their workouts, Coach Bex approaches me. His voice lowers, a rare hint of concern breaking through his stern demeanor. "How are you holding up, Reeve? Really?"

"I'm... getting there," I admit. "It's not easy, but I'm working hard with Keely. We're making progress and I can start working out in the gym next week."

Coach Bex nods, his expression unreadable. "Good. The team needs you back, but not at the cost of your long-term health. Don't push too hard, too fast."

His words of caution surprise me, but I appreciate them. "Thanks, Coach. I'll be smart about it."

As Coach Bex moves away to bark orders at the others, I settle into my chair, watching my teammates train. The familiar sounds and smells of the gym wash over me, both comforting and frustrating. I'm itching to join them, but I know patience is key right now.

I pull out my phone, sending a quick text to Keely:

Reeve: At the gym. What day are you thinking next week that I can start upper body work?

Keke: A few more days. We'll start slow and work our way up. You're recovering quicker than I expected.

Putting my phone away, I lean back, observing and mentally preparing for the work ahead. The road to recovery is long, but with each passing day, I'm one step closer to getting back on the ice.