All sweaty and lickable. His soft, curly hair clings to his forehead as he rubs the back of his hand against it, wiping away the moisture. The guy isn’t as big as Shorty, one of the defensemen from last year who went pro, but he’s definitely the largest member on the offensive side. And boy, those muscles do him good.
He must drink a lot of milk.
That’s a lie. He’s only ever been a sucker for Crush and protein shakes, but, apparently, I need to give the sugary drink another go––sans vodka, of course––because the guy’s a freaking babe. My gaze finally meets his. He’s staring at me. His jaw is tight and his brow pulled low, showcasing the stubborn, unreadable ass who only really comes around when I’m in the vicinity with him.
And I’m not crazy.
Even Mom noticed when we were in high school. How he changes when I’m around. How he can go from fun-loving, bullshit-talking Theo, to broody, overprotective asshat in two seconds flat as soon as I enter the room.
It’s ridiculous.
And with me shadowing the team, I’m sure his friends will love it.
Great.
“All right, I think that’s it,” Sanderson concludes. I force myself to stop checking Theo out and turn back toward the coach, though I can feel Theo’s hot stare on the side of my face. Clearly, my presence caught him off guard. And clearly, he isn’t a fan of it.
Coach claps his hands together and adds, “Now, get dressed and get outta here. I’ll see you tomorrow for practice.”
The team gets back to work, dispersing and dropping towels in some kind of twisted game to see who can make me uncomfortable first because they sure as hell aren’t rushing to get dressed.
I roll my eyes, unable to hold it back any longer while pretending being given front row seats to a dozen penises is just an average Tuesday afternoon for a girl like me. In reality, it couldn’t be further from the truth, though I’d never admit it out loud.
When Colt catches onto his teammates’ game, noticing the fact the majority of them are taking their sweet time in covering up their birthday suits, he scoffs, but he doesn’t give them any shit for it.
He knows as well as I do it’ll only egg them on. He also knows I can take care of myself. One swift knee to his groin in middle school was all it took to prove to him––and everyone at my school––I can handle myself. Colt hasn’t overstepped his bounds since.
“Hey, big brother,” I greet him while pretending to be oblivious to the penises around me.
“Hey, Baby Thorne,” he teases before deciding, “I like the nickname.”
Theo sidles up next to Colt, practically towering over us in his skates and quips, “Fitting too. Like she’s a thorn in our side.”
“Clever,” I note. I pat his pec like he’s a good dog while refusing to fawn over just how hot the bastard is or how good he feels in the palm of my hand. And that’s through the thick material of his pads and practice jersey. The idea of touching his actual skin?
Swoon.
Lips pursed, I drop my hand to my side and rub my palm against my jeans.
“You done for the day?” Colt asks me. “Wanna ride home with me?”
“Russ said I should wait––”
“Thorne!” Russ yells. Our heads snap toward the back office. Russ cringes and points to me. “Girl Thorne!”
“Baby Thorne,” Theo suggests with a wry grin.
Nodding, Russ repeats, “Baby Thorne. Got it.”
“Thanks a lot, Teddy,” I mutter, tossing a quick glare at my nemesis. Raising my voice, I reply, “Yes, Russ?”
“I just got off the phone with Burrows’ doctor. He’s been cleared for the first game, but I want you to come with me. I’m gonna show you some things we can do to help with mobility before and after the games.”
“Yeah. Sure. Whatever you need,” I answer.
“Burrows, introduce yourself,” Russ adds. “Then meet me in the office.”
He disappears down the hall as Burrows approaches, his hand outstretched.
Ignoring Theo’s hot stare on the side of my face, I take it and smile. “Hey, Burrows.”
“Hey, Blake. Long time, no see.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while,” I admit, refusing to look at Theo, the culprit for why I’ve been so absent since the first night I met him.
Burrows looks good, though. No crutches this time. Same boyish grin. And lucky me, he isn’t wearing a shirt.
Hello, pectorals.
“We’ll have to have you at the Taylor House again soon,” Burrows adds, watching me as I blatantly check the guy out. His mouth is tilted in a knowing smirk as my gaze snaps to his. “I think I owe you a rematch.”
“You mean when you aren’t cheating?” I tease.
He laughs. “Cheating?”
“You already told me your secret, remember? Start sober. Pick an opponent who’s already buzzed. Very sneaky, my friend.”
An annoyed huff interrupts our friendly banter, and Theo storms back toward the rink without a word.
What the hell?
I exchange a confused look with Colt and Burrows.
Burrows shrugs, and Colt calls out, “Where are you going, man?”
“Gonna work on sprints,” Theo yells back, but he doesn’t turn around.
“Sprints?” Colt’s nose wrinkles.
“Chop, chop, Baby Thorne,” Russ orders from his office. “Burrows, you too. Let’s go!”
Well, all right, then. Apparently, the bee in Theo’s bonnet is going to have to stay his problem.
Which is good.
It’s none of my business, anyway.
7
BLAKELY
Once Russ was finished showing me the motions for a proper leg massage, he went to his small desk in the back corner and has been flipping through paperwork ever since.
“That’s enough,” he says without bothering to look over at us.
I stop touching Burrows’ knee and rub my hands together. “Uh, I guess that’s it for the day. Thanks.”
He slides off the black-cushioned table similar to one you’d find at a doctor’s office. Once he’s on his feet, he asks, “For what?”
You’d never know the guy had knee surgery. He’s strong. Athletic. Practically indestructible. You can see it in the way he carries himself.
Well, carried, since I kind of put him through the ringer during our PT session. He bends down and rubs at his knee gently while I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from ogling him. The guy’s good looking. So sue me.
Once he’s back to his full height, he looks at me, waiting for an answer.
Oh. Right.
I meet his gaze and smile, clarifying, “Thank you for being my first patient.”
Burrows digs into his pocket and offers me his phone. “Glad I could be of service. Any chance you’d give me your number in exchange for my glowing review?”
I snort but take his cell and plug in my number, handing it back to him. “Only so you can let me know if your knee starts hurting or something.”
“I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop. Maybe I can even give you an update during dinner? I believe I owe you after our Beer Pong game.”