Chapter 5

• Eight years later
• Vivienne Sinclair
• 'Congratulations, Ms. V. Sinclair. We're excited to invite you to join us at The Bull's hockey group as its personal trainer and physiotherapist'.
• My cheeks burned hot with excitement, eyes still glued to the text on my phone.
• Eight years ago when my dad cut ties with me after what happened, I left New York. I'd never imagined that I'd be back here one day... not as the poor helpless girl that was abandoned by her only family, but a professional hockey trainer and physiotherapist for the biggest hockey team in the States.
• These years of hard work was worth it after all.
• "We are here, Ms." The driver's voice jolted me back to reality, and my breath caught in my throat as I looked out of the window. We'd arrived at the hockey center.
• "Oh..." My grip tightened on my phone, chest pumping hard as I stepped out of the car.
• As the driver went to the trunk to get my things, I took the chance to stare around, my eyes lingering longer on the building nameplate with the inscription 'THE BULLS'.
• It still feels like a dream standing here.
• "This way, please." The driver led the way, and I followed, my heart pounding.
• I've researched and even heard so many things about the players from this particular team. They're rumoured to be cocky and rude.
• Well, this isn't news at all. Almost all the hockey players around the world are known to be crazy... Well, so am I.
• I just hope I last here... I have to. I've worked so hard to get here. I've prepared myself well for this.
• A cold gentle breeze greeted me, accompanied by the scent of menthos the moment we stepped into the hockey arena.
• My attention was drawn by the sound of sticks hitting the puck, blades scraping against the ice, and the players skating around, their laughter echoing around us.
• They were cladded in white jerseys with blue stripes... And each player's names and numbers are inscribed at the back of their jersey.
• "Ms. V..." A masculine voice called as a young man skated toward me, and as he approached, I recognised his familiar face.
• I'd seen his face before during one of my research about the team. He's Mr. Bryant... Their coach.
• "You're here..." He stepped out of the ice rink, standing before me, smiling as he got rid of his hand gloves.
• He offered me a handshake.
• "It's nice to meet you. I'm Coach Bryant. You can call me coach B for short."
• "Ms. Vivianne Sinclair. V for short. It's nice to meet you, Coach B." I smiled, composing myself.
• "I'm sorry I couldn't come over to pick you up..." he paused and glanced back at the ice rink. "I've been busy here."
• "It's fine. I understand."
• "One second, please." He turned to the ice rink and called the players over.
• "I should introduce you to the team members."
• My breath hitched, fingers tightened at my sides.
• 'I know you can't stand rude people, Vivianne, but you have to stay calm. Don't react no matter how rude they are. It's your first day here. You can't ruin it'.
• With that in mind, I wore a natural smile as I watched the players skate toward me, their voices echoing in the rink, and their sticks scraping behind them on the ice.
• "Guys, this is Ms. Vivienne Sinclair. V for short... Your new trainer and physiotherapist." Coach B gestured toward me.
• I swallowed nothing. They were all tall... Tall enough to make me feel short even though I was 5'8... A height just perfect for a woman. I almost felt intimidated, but fuck it! Besides, I'm Vivianne Sinclair.
• "Hi, guys. It's nice to meet you."
• I looked at their faces, and damn it! Their face cards weren't declining.
• 'It's not a new thing, Vivianne. Hockey players are always super hot. That's why they're also rude and cocky'.
• "Seriously? Is this who you chose to replace the former physiotherapist with?" One of them scoffed, his blue eyes sizing me up.
• "She has a small stature. Can she even do anything for us?" He added as he grimaced.
• "Be nice!" Coach B scolded him, then turned to me and smiled. "Give me a minute, please."
• "Hmm."
• "Be nice, guys." He warned again before he walked away, and I sighed, turning to the rude jerk.
• I glanced at the name tag on his chest. Mark.
• Oh, yeah... I've heard rumours about him. He was the reason their last trainer quit. Fans hates him, especially men, because he's fucking rude and always looks down on people.
• I took a silent deep breath, trying to resist the urge to swing my hand on his face, because God help me, please... I don't want to send someone back home to you on my first day.
• "Ugh! What an eyesore."
• That was it! My last straw. If I let it pass now, he would do this again.
• I wore a smile... one that didn't reach my eyes. "Were you expecting a giant to show up?"
• Colours drained from his face.
• I chuckled dryly. "I mean, my height is more than perfect for a woman, don't you think so? Besides, does it really have anything to do with the reason I'm here?"
• Right... Now, I feel relieved.
• He frowned, but I didn't give a fuck.
• "You seem like an interesting young lady." Another one said... Scott Hughes. Twenty-eight, one of the team's defensemen, and a freak.
• Rumour had it that he's really crazy and has a messed up personality. Fans hated him the most because he's also cocky, but in his words, he's just being honest.
• His eyes swept over me, a flirtatious smile lingering on his face. "Your fashion sense is quite weird and funny."
• They all laughed.
• Seriously? What's wrong with wearing a long skirt and baggy shirt and a pair of sneakers?
• Just as I opened my mouth to talk, he offered me a handshake with his glove on. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Scott. I hope we get along... if only you change your fashion sense though..." he chuckled.
• "I don't like weird looking people, especially women."
• Wow! They are crazier than I thought.
• 'Breathe, Vivianne. Breathe'.
• I forced a smile, taking his hand briefly. "Ms. Vivianne Sinclair.
• "I'll call you V. I think I like that better... V." He winked, and my stomach churned with disgust.
• The coach walked back in. "I'm sorry I was gone for too long. I hope you're getting along with them?"
• Getting along with them? As if!
• Still, I smiled and nodded without saying a word. I already felt like punching their faces.
• "Come with me, please. The driver is waiting to take you to your apartment."
• Finally!
• I followed him with my suitcase, not before I shot Mark and Scott one last glare.
• I think I have a whole lot to deal with.
• *****
• "Here we are." The driver pulled up at a mansion.
• My jaw dropped.
• Is this where I'll be staying? All alone? Life's good. I can't remember the last time I'd been in such a beautiful house.
• The driver passed me a note. "That's the passcode for the house... You should call the coach if you need anything."
• And with that, he got in his car and drove off, while I advanced towards the entrance.
• I'll admire the place later, but for now, I need to shower and rest.
• I've had enough stress to last me for the rest of the year.
• My jaw dropped in shock once I stepped into the living room. Spacious, well furnished, and smelt like luxury.
• A compensation for the hard times that I'd been through all these years.
• My phone chimed, and I reached for it.
• My brows squinted at the unregistered number before I read the text.
• 'I'm sorry about any inconvenience you have to face. Please bear with us for now. We'll provide a more comfortable place for you to stay in. Something happened at the last minute... The Bull's manager'.
• "Why is he apologising? This place is more than perfect." I muttered, but still, I replied to him, saying that it's fine, and I liked it here, so they didn't have to bother finding another place for me.
• "I should rest here first." I threw myself on the couch. "I'll find my room later."
• My stomach grumbled.
• Shit! I haven't eaten yet.
• I ordered food online.
• Ten minutes barely passed when I heard the door beeping.
• "Is he here already? That was fast."
• As I approached the door, it opened instead, and I halted abruptly. Huh? How did the delivery guy know the house's passcode?
• Wait! Is that a thief? Did a thief break into the house? In this broad daylight?
• Oh my God! I may be crazy and tough, but not too tough to fight a thief.
• I grabbed my phone and without a second thought I turned to run into hiding, but it was already too late... The thief was already inside the house.
• I can't die now, please. I've not met my perfect prince charming. I've not gotten my dream car and house... Please save my ass.
• Then a bold masculine voice cut through the conflict in my head... sharp, firm, and full of confusion.
• "Who are you?"
• That voice... Why did it sound so familiar? I bet I've heard it before.
• I turned swiftly, but froze at the sight that welcomed me.
• I blinked. Noah Boulevard?