Winning Pass - A Football Romance (9 page)

T
here are
two main thoughts that keep circling around in my brain, duking it out like it’s a cage-match. In one corner, I have
this was a dumb fucking idea, moron
, ready to strike. In the other corner, it’s the quick-footed
Paige’s tits look amazing in those tight scrubs
. Who will win out? It’s anyone’s guess.

I will say that even if this is a dumb fucking idea, I’m glad I did it. I’m glad I get to see her face when she cares more about the fact that I’m hurt than anything else. It’s sappy and mushy, but it actually makes me feel better.

Don’t get me wrong—she’s definitely shocked and probably a little pissed that I showed up out of the blue. And I can’t really blame the girl either. But maybe it won’t take that long for her to get used to my being here.

“Hey man, you can go hang out in the lobby if you want. No one’s going to come in here and fuck me up or anything,” I say to Dubs so I can get a little privacy with Paige. Thank God my dad wasn’t the one who came out with me because God knows, he wouldn’t have any of that shit.

Dubs gives me a stiff nod without saying a word. Classic Dubs. I follow behind Paige, and she leads me into a small examination room that reminds me of being in a doctor’s office for real. I’ve never actually had physical therapy, believe it or not, especially after sustaining a few minor injuries from high school and college, but physical therapy was never something I needed, so this is all new to me.

“Your office. It’s nice.” I sound like a roughed up bear, mainly because I had a difficult time trying to get dressed this morning. And call it stupid if you want, but I wasn’t about to ask Dubs to help. So I pretty much yelled for five minutes straight, throwing in a good ‘Fuck.’ and ‘Goddamn piece of shit.’ for good measure.

Instead of the sweet Paige I’ve become accustomed to, she grabs a clipboard from inside a drawer and directs me to take a seat on the examination table, which also reminds me of a massage table. Is this what we’re getting ready to do? She’s going to give me a massage? The thoughts that add to that cage match from before make me shift in my seat, trying to subtly adjust myself. Yep, definitely need the privacy here.

Paige still doesn’t say anything as she’s jotting down notes on the clipboard, so now, I’m wondering if maybe she’s way more upset with me that I realized at first. Would she really be that mad, though? I mean, I know we both had a good time in Texas. It could be that I’m wrong and it didn’t really matter to her.

She sighs to herself, pushing back more red hair behind her ear before looking back up at me. “Thank you. I worked really hard on trying to get this whole place together.”

It’s not much, but I’ll take it.

“So explain to me how the injury occurred.”

“I caught a deep pass at the forty-yard line and gunned it toward the end zone. One of the cornerbacks tipped my foot when he grabbed me, and I smashed shoulder-first into the ground. It was a pretty nasty fall, from what I’ve heard. I guess I tried to block most of it out.”

Paige narrows her eyes at me before looking back down and scribbling something else. “So you made a . . . touchdown? Right?”

I smile at her, because she’s being so damn cute and doesn’t even realize it. “Yeah. I got the touchdown.”

After I explain all the medical crap that would bore anyone else to tears, she finishes writing down whatever notes she’s taken and has me sit up straight.

“I apologize in advance if I hurt you. I’m just going to check out your range of motion really quickly.”

I snort. “What range of motion? I can’t move the fucking thing.”

But Paige insists, and I try very hard not to make any sudden noises as she tries to move my elbow out of the sling, feeling around my bones and muscle in my upper arm before carefully undoing the bandage on my shoulder. She makes a few noises herself, and I can tell that it upsets her to see my arm like this, but she’s trying very hard to keep it strictly professional. Something about that eases me, and I put all my trust in whatever she wants to do.

It is kind of difficult, however, when each time Paige isn’t touching an insanely painful spot on my arm, I can feel her soft skin up against mine, and it does a number on me. And yes, Paige’s tits do look fucking fantastic in her scrubs, not that I can tell her that right now. That would be highly unprofessional of me, of course.

But I don’t apologize one bit when she catches me looking down her shirt.

She rolls her eyes and continues on as if she saw nothing. “Okay. So after taking a look and checking you, I think I can come up with a good plan for your rehabilitation. Now, just so we are both clear on this, you know I’m not an expert in sports injuries. I’m confused as to why you’re all the way out here instead of somewhere in Texas with your fancy doctors that your team pays for. But I guess that’s beside the point now. You’re here, so we’ll take things one step at a time.”

I don’t know if she means just my rehabilitation or what, but I nod. “Sounds good to me.”

“So how are you doing? Did you get to start putting together the plus-size exercise clothing line? I was thinking about that, and maybe if you try a different fabric than what most people used to—” I stop talking when I see Paige quickly turn away from me. I don’t know what’s up with her, but clearly, that was not the topic to start with.

“I’ve been preoccupied, so I haven’t had the chance.” Her voice is soft. I hate seeing her so sad.

“Okay, but I want a pair when you get them finished. I mean, I want to be rocking
all
the latest prints, you know what I’m saying?”

She turns around and regards me with amusement in her eyes, and a slight smile is starting to form on her luscious mouth. “That would be quite a sight.”

“And you’d better make sure I get the fancy prints too. I’m talking the animal prints, the neon colors, the ones with the extra little bits of glitter on them. All of it. I will be your walking billboard.”

This time, I get her laughing, and Paige shakes her head at my idiocy. “I don’t think the public is ready for that, Elijah. You in a pair of tight leggings meant for women? I don’t know . . .”

I grin at her, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. “I have to wear some pretty tight-ass pants on the field too, you know. If I have to wear my jockstrap just to pull it off, I will.” I give her a flirty wink.

“Oh my God, you are so ridiculous sometimes,” she says, laughing through it all. “Stop being so—”

“Irritatingly handsome? Rugged and manly? So good on my feet?” I finish for her, trying not to wince as I accidentally move my shoulder too fast to sit back in the seat.

Paige licks her lips, still shaking her head at me before her smile fades into a concerned look. “I’m sorry that you got hurt. I really hate seeing you like this. I wish you would’ve stayed back in Texas just so you could get the best of care. Honestly, I’ve never personally dealt with a rotator cuff tear rehabilitation plan, even though I’ve been trained in that area. I feel that you could’ve picked someone way better than me. So part of me wants to punch you for putting me on the spot like this, but thank you for trusting me enough to feel that I can handle this,” she says to me, clearing her throat when she’s finished. “Anyway, so it looks like we’ll be set for your first actual PT session tomorrow morning. I’ll go over everything we’ll be doing then, but I need to go ahead and get on with it. My next client is probably already out there. If you have any other questions, you can call me, which something tells me you have no problem with doing. I’ll try to help however I can.”

The lighting in the room sucks because it’s that shitty florescent lighting that you usually find in hospitals and a doctor’s office, but even still, Paige’s skin looks as soft and sweet as I remember it to be. Her freckles stand out across the bridge of her nose, and it looks like she’s been getting a little bit more sun, probably sunbathing like I told her she shouldn’t be doing so long ago. Sometimes, the woman can be so damn stubborn. I know I’m staring at her, but I can’t find anything in me to look away, so she looks away first, a slight blush in her cheeks.

“And thank you for working with me,” I reply. “I know I’m not the easiest patient to deal with. I’ll try for you though.”

Dubs hands me my room key, pocketing his. “Imma take a quick shower. Just knock on the door if you need something,” he mumbles to me. I pound his fist, and he shuts the adjoining door between our rooms behind him, leaving me in peace and quiet for the first time all day.

One of the contingencies of my coming out here to North Carolina was that Maine specifically requested I take Dubs with me just in case. I think it’s kind of stupid, but I obliged. If that’s what it took, then that’s what it took. I respect Dubs enough that I won’t bitch about being ‘babysat’ when I know the man is only trying to do his job.

I carefully sit down on the bed, cussing under my breath at how much pain both shoulders are in, considering the pain meds I’m on. The messed up shoulder is worse, but my right shoulder hurts from all the extra use it’s getting from me not using the left side of my body.

Lying in bed makes me think of the massage table in Paige’s office, and that leads me to think about what will happen tomorrow. Is she really going to be massaging me? Will I be able to handle it without locking the door behind us and fucking her silly?

Paige was handling everything very professionally, given the situation—it’s just a testament to her level of patience in general. Most people think redheads have a short fuse, but not Paige. She’s only scary when you make her very angry, and even then, it takes a lot for her to get there.

My mind creates an image of her gorgeous rust-colored hair spilling over the sides of the table as I’m parting her thighs and shoving my cock into her tight pussy. Maybe I can get her to do a little roleplaying action with me, although that’s pretty much how I’m seeing the scene play out in my head.

I reach down and slide my right hand under the waistband of my shorts, my eyes closing as I start to slowly stroke myself. I move wrong, and my left shoulder feels like I’ve just slammed it back into the ground, and I’m hissing through my teeth, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.

Goddammit. I’m going to have to stop thinking of Paige’s luscious body and what I want to do to it, because I’m giving myself the worst case of blue balls since I can’t even jerk off.

“
Y
ou’re kidding me
, right?” Elijah asks, trying hard not to laugh.

I sigh. “No, I’m not kidding. Hold the weight here like this,” I say, closing his fingers around the two-pound weight so that he’s holding it out in front of him. “Now you do small pulsations, twenty of them. Your shoulder will feel warm, but that’s normal.”

He looks at me and does what I tell him. “I look like I’m lying in bed with a guy and giving him a hand job.”

Letting out a slow breath so I maintain the professionalism that I’d like to maintain with Elijah, I let it go. “Twenty pulsations. Now.”

It goes well until the third exercise I have Elijah do, when he finally pipes up and starts doing the talking like friends thing again. Does he not understand how this works?

“Yeah, I might be benched for most of the season because the injury. It fucking sucks, let me tell you, because I haven’t gone this long without playing football since . . . well, never. I’ve never gone that fucking long. And I’m so goddamn bored out of my mind.”

“No one told you to come up here,” I say to him lightly. “Just saying.”

He ignores the comment and goes on about how Kevon, his friend that I met before, is keeping him up to date on everything that’s going on in the locker room. Who knew men were such gossips?

We get through the exercises without too much of a hassle, but it’s the next part of the session that worries me. He’s not mentioned anything about the massage that I know he knows is getting ready to happen, but it’s all I can think about. My hands on Elijah again . . . how am I supposed to keep my shit together?

“So now, we’re ready to move on to the next stage of today’s treatment. I’m going to work out some of the tension in your upper back, possibly your lower, too, depending on how tight things are.” Elijah looks at me with great interest this time, hanging on every word I say. Go figure. “And then after all that, I’ll use a little bit of hot and cold compresses on your back. I’ll probably start with the electrodes tomorrow.”

“Massage and compresses, cool. Electrodes? I don’t know about all that.”

This time I laugh because, come on, this big football player is scared of a little bit of electronic stimulation in his muscles? I figure they did that stuff all the time for the players. “Don’t be scared. It’s really not a big deal.”

Elijah changes to his game face, so to speak. “I’m not scared. I just don’t think it’s . . . necessary is all.”

“Mm-hmm. Okay, let’s get that shirt off you.”

I know that it’s going to be tense, but nothing prepares me for how much so. I swallow loudly as I stand in front of Elijah, fumbling at first because he reaches for the hem of his shirt at the same time that I do, our fingers brushing against each other in passing. This is just absolutely crazy. I have to remember to breathe, and Elijah starts pulling the fabric upward, revealing the six-pack I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting before.

“This is the part where it gets painful,” he says to me as his arm raises further. “I might need your help.”

I bite my lip and nod, trying to erase all the dirty thoughts that are tangled up in my mind when my fingers touch his skin. I help him pull his arms out of the shirt and over his head, folding it neatly before putting it on the countertop. “All right, I need you to try to lay on your stomach with your face in that cut-out at the top there. Just be really gentle when you come down on that shoulder though.”

Once he’s into position, I finally let myself look, trying desperately not to stare at Elijah’s firm ass proudly on display through the loose basketball shorts he’s wearing. No one ever told me that it would be as fun as it was to grab said ass, and I’m sort of wishing I could do it right now, but I know better. I shake my head clear of those thoughts, and taking one more deep breath, I exhale before getting to work.

I have to be extra careful around Elijah’s left shoulder, of course, but the rest of him seems in pretty good shape, considering.

Starting out with his back, I decide to do light massage at first, before working into deeper tissue massage. I’ve read up that sports injuries require a deeper massage in order for an athlete to really feel the pain relief, since they work so hard to train their bodies in the first place.

But his skin is such a lovely shade of tan next to my own pale skin, reminding me of the thoughts of how we looked like our own little masterpiece when we were lying together in bed back in Texas. I smile to myself and allow myself to be okay with staring at him while I’m massaging him, because I need to have some sort of relief too, right?

As I dig my thumbs deep into his skin and muscle, I concentrate on his body language—is this working? Does this feel good? I push the heels of both hands down on either side of his hips, and he jumps, startled and panting. I won’t lie. The heavy breathing is certainly turning me on.

Elijah shifts his hips, and right away, I know why. My eyes flutter shut for a moment as I continue rubbing the sides of his hips firmly. I’m not the only one who’s enjoying this session, it seems. But of course, that’s not what this is all about, and I have to keep reminding myself each time my hands trail across his lower back. That’s not the only place I need to focus on. Unfortunately. As I work my way back up his back into his shoulder area, I can see the waves of goosebumps rising along Elijah’s skin each time I dig my fingers in deeper and deeper.

He’s trying so hard not to make a single noise, but I can hear his breathing, and I can see the way he keeps shifting. I want to say something so badly, just to see if he needs to really get up and move around for a minute before I continue, but I don’t. Part of me is really enjoying the way he’s squirming around under my hands, even if I’m being professional about it and all.

Finally, I’m finished, and Elijah doesn’t get up as quickly as I figure he will, only further proving my point. I have to smile, because I know I can’t laugh.

“Do you need a minute to relax, or can we move along into the next part?”

“Ah, I might need a minute. Thanks.” His voice is muffled through the table, so I quickly giggle to myself before I head out of the room for a few minutes to let him, well, collect himself. Even though I really don’t want to.

Stacey gives me a funny look as I come around the corner, but I completely ignore her and grab the cold compresses out of the small refrigerator we have to store them in. When I get back inside the room with Elijah, he’s managed to calm himself down enough to sit up, waiting for me with a small smile on his face.

“I’ll admit that actually felt really good. And I can already tell the muscles in my shoulder blades and lower back are much more relaxed. Thank you for that. I guess you do know you’re doing.”

I roll my eyes playfully at him, putting one hand on my hip. “Thank you for that kind compliment, sir. You need to put your shirt back on. I have a compress pack to put on your back afterward. It’s really cold, so you don’t want that directly up against your skin.”

I slide the shirt back over his head, and I can feel his warm breath across my chest, sending amazing tingles down through my body, directly to my core. Being this close with anyone else would just be awkward, but with Elijah, I’m so incredibly turned on that I know I have to quickly maneuver the shirt on him, or God knows, I’m going to kiss him right here.

But he’s looking at me with those soulful hazel eyes of his, almost as if he’s daring me. I breathe in and out through my nose, but even then, I’m not safe because all I can smell is Elijah’s skin, his hair,
him
. And that just happens to be my most favorite scent in this world.

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and I think
he
thinks he’s got me right where he wants me. The way he’s sitting and I’m standing in front of him has his knees so close to my crotch, which is practically on fire at the moment anyway, and with me pulling the shirt over his arm, which is sticking straight, up my breasts are practically shoved into his face. It’s not the most ideal position, given the fact that I’m trying to treat this as if Elijah were any other person.

It’s all too much for me, and I can feel my walls caving in at the thought of what I could do to him in this office without anyone knowing. Then again, what if someone does find out? What if word got out that this was the kind of business I was running? Sleeping with my clients? I could lose my license just as soon as I got it. It only takes that thought in my head for me to quickly back off, skittering backward as if Elijah had burned me. I just can’t do this with him here.

“So yeah, uh, you’re gonna need to just lie back down on your stomach again.” Waiting for him to get back into position before easing the cold pack over his lower back, I say a silent prayer. I’ve got to keep my head on straight.

“I’m going to leave you to it for the next fifteen minutes while this relaxes your muscles. Stacey will help you out with the checkout at the front.”

Elijah tries to look over his good shoulder at me, wincing from the strain. “That’s it? Do I even get a goodbye?”

I shake my head at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.”

And with that, I’m out of the room, dashing toward my purse and keys in my tiny office before letting Stacey know I’m going to take a quick lunch break.

And a really good shower.