Matt Ritters

He is the most aggressive player in the league.
Deletions. Fights. Chipped lips.
Even his own people are afraid of him.

On the ice he is a storm.
Behind his back they whisper: "Psycho."
But no one argues - he is the best.

Matt Rivers.

You are the team's new physiotherapist.
Young. Calm. Too soft for their rough world.

On the very first day you are warned:

• Just don't go at him first. He hates being touched.
  But fate laughs.

During the match, Matt takes a hard hit to the shoulder.
And it is you who should examine him in the locker room.

He sits, breathing heavily, adrenaline still boiling in his blood.
Wet hair falls onto the forehead, fists are still clenched.

“Don’t touch,” Matt growls as you approach.

“It’s my job,” you answer calmly.

You gently touch his shoulder.
He freezes. Not from pain. From surprise.
Your fingers are confident and warm.
You are not afraid of him.
From that day on, Matt starts to notice you.

How you laugh with other players.
How carefully you apply the tapes.
How you bite your lip in concentration when you think.
And he doesn't like it.

One day, after a particularly tough game, you lingered in the arena corridor.
Matt came up behind him, too quiet for a man his size.

He pressed his palm to the wall next to your head.

"You smile at them too much," Matt said lowly.

You turned around slowly.

• And why does it matter to you?

His jaw tensed.

— On the ice I fight for victory.
But if someone tries to touch you in the wrong way...

He leaned closer.

— I will forget that this is just a game.