Page 23 of The Sin Bin

Jax approached Wilson with measured steps, saying something that made the Phantoms' center laugh derisively. But instead of dropping his gloves, Jax simply positioned himself between Wilson and Ethan, helping the rookie to his feet before skating calmly to the bench.

The crowd's reaction was mixed—some cheers for the restraint, but also a swell of disappointment from those who'd come expecting blood. Two men behind Lauren groaned audibly.

"What the hell was that? Thompson's gone soft."

"Season ticket prices aren't worth it if he's not gonna fight anymore."

Lauren exhaled slowly, a complicated pride blossoming in her chest. The criticisms from the "fans" behind her stung on Jax's behalf, and she felt a surprising urge to turn around and defend him—to explain that what they'd just witnessed was strength, not weakness.

The game continued with increasing intensity, but Jax maintained his composure even as the Phantoms targeted him with increasingly obvious provocations. It was a masterclass in restraint, and Lauren wasn't the only one noticing. Coach Vicky gave him more ice time than usual, a clear endorsement of his disciplined approach.

By the third period, the strain was showing on both teams. Liam Castillo, the Chill's starting goaltender, had been brilliant, turning away shot after shot with acrobatic saves that had the crowd on its feet. But with five minutes remaining in a still-scoreless game, disaster struck.

A scramble in front of the net sent bodies flying, and Liam crumpled awkwardly, his leg bent at an angle that made Lauren wince. The arena fell silent as trainers rushed onto the ice, the goaltender's pain evident even from a distance.

"That's a knee," Lauren said, medical training kicking in as she assessed the injury. "MCL or ACL from the way it bent."

"Is that bad?" Barb asked.

"If it's torn? Season-ending," Lauren replied grimly.

The crowd watched in somber silence as Liam was helped off the ice, unable to put weight on his injured leg. Sven Lindholm, the backup goalie, quickly stretched and took his place in net, his lanky frame somehow seeming smaller in the suddenly crucial role.

The game resumed with a new tension. Without their star goaltender, the Chill's playoff hopes hung in the balance. Everyone in the arena knew it, including the Phantoms, who pressed their advantage with renewed vigor.

With two minutes left, Wilson broke free on a partial breakaway, bearing down on the inexperienced Sven. Jax, caught slightly out of position, had a split-second decision to make—take a penalty by hooking Wilson from behind, or let him have the scoring chance against the nervous backup goalie.

Lauren could almost see the calculation in Jax's eyes before he made his choice. He lunged, stick extended in a desperate attempt to disrupt the shot without taking a penalty. It wasn't quite enough. Wilson's shot whistled past Sven's glove, breaking the deadlock with 1:47 remaining.

The arena deflated as the Phantoms celebrated, Wilson making a point of skating past the Chill bench with an exaggerated fist pump. The final minutes ticked away without a response, and when the buzzer sounded, Philadelphia's 1-0 victory felt like more than just one loss in a long season.

"Well, that was dramatic," Barb said as fans began filing out of the arena. "What now? Are you still meeting Jax?"

Lauren checked her phone, finding another text:Medical room entrance in 20. Oliver's calmer but still shaken. Thanks for doing this.

"Yes," she confirmed, gathering her coat. "I need to find the medical room entrance. Any idea where that is?"

Barb's fan knowledge proved useful as she guided Lauren through the arena's back corridors, eventually finding the unmarked door Jax had described. "Want me to wait with you?" she offered.

Lauren shook her head. "I've got this. You go ahead, I'll text you tomorrow."

"Details," Barb insisted with a meaningful look. "I want all the details."

After her friend left, Lauren was alone in the quiet corridor, the sounds of the departing crowd fading to a distant murmur. She leaned against the wall, suddenly uncertain about what she'd agreed to. What did she know about helping a professional athlete through an anxiety attack? Her expertise was limited to four-legged patients who couldn't articulate their fears.

As she waited, Lauren realized how much she'd been looking forward to seeing Jax after the game, regardless of the circumstances. The past two weeks of texts, shared moments at the shelter, and their growing connection had created an unexpected space in her life that was distinctly Jax-shaped. Standing in this cold hallway, she admitted to herself that she missed him when he wasn't around, an awareness that was both thrilling and terrifying.

The door opened before she could second-guess herself further, revealing Jax in team-issued sweats, his hair still damp from the shower. His expression lightened when he saw her, relief evident in the slight relaxation of his shoulders.

"You came," he said, as if he'd half-expected her to change her mind.

"I said I would," Lauren replied simply.

He held her gaze for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. "Thank you," he said finally. "Oliver's inside with our team doctor. He's better, but..."

"But you're worried about him going home alone," Lauren finished, understanding intuitively.

Jax nodded. "He lives in my building. I'd take him myself, but Coach called an emergency meeting about Liam's injury, and as alternate captain, I need to be there."

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