Page 21 of Catching Our Moment

Kelcie

The next morning—Saturday—Shaw and I went early to my physical therapy office before it opened. He warmed up on the treadmill, we modified the stretching he normally did at home, and we worked on his prescribed physical therapy routine. When we were done, I offered to massage his neck and back.

I knew his body had changed a lot since he’d been twenty-one.

It was thicker and stronger but also worn.

Without asking, he reached behind him with his good arm and pulled his shirt off, tossing it aside—because nature meant for him to be bare-chested.

He caught me staring, and his cheeks turned an adorable pink.

“Sorry. I’m so used to stripping down when I get to a trainer’s table. ”

I smiled. “It’s fine. It’s just me here.” As if I was a nobody. Because I was. I wasn’t a

crazy fan who would attack him. I also wasn’t a model or gorgeous celebrity—stop. You’re a professional, I yelled in my head. Focus on caring for your friend.

I got some lotion out from under the table and told him to lie on his chest. Once positioned on his stomach and no longer looking at me, it was easier for me to focus on my work.

Until he began to moan.

Heaven help me. Would it be obvious if I turned on the music to try to drown him out?

I shifted my legs and?—

“That feels amazing.”

I dug into the trigger points surrounding his neck and shoulders, each garnering a different type of moan.

I wasn’t sure how to handle this. So I tried to think about what I was doing, focusing on the muscle groups and calling on my training to release the compression around his spine.

As he continued to moan—and I continued to get worked up—I wondered if I should call someone else to take over this part of his therapy.

But then I decided against it. Because hell, if anyone was going to lay their hands on him or even hear those sounds out of him… it was going to be me.

He has a girlfriend. He’s not for you.

I ran my hand down his spine because I couldn’t convince my hands to stop touching him.

My body, in general, wasn’t communicating properly.

Any grace and detachment I could possibly hope to have in this awkward moment was gone.

I tried to take a step back, removing my hands from his body, but my coordination suddenly flew out the window.

My ankle turned just enough to make me unsteady, causing my hand to seek something hard to hold onto.

That something hard was Shaw’s ass. His very solid, very hard, very… it was a very round, firm ass.

“Oh, my God!” I cried out, and my legs almost gave out again. Clearly, blood flow to my brain had been compromised. I grabbed onto the table and straightened as quickly as possible.

Shaw pushed himself up on his good elbow, wincing at the jarring motion it caused his shoulder, and stared at me. “You okay?” His hair was rumpled, and he had amazing, half-lidded, dreamy eyes. Eyes I imagined he had when he was having an amazing, sexy time.

“Yep! I’m all good,” I said, way too chipper. “Just tripped over something.” Like my own two feet. And then, to make things more awkward, I smacked him on the butt and said, “Okay, all done here. Get on up.” As if me touching his ass was routine.

He froze.

Uh-oh. Maybe I pushed it too far with the last swat.

I reached down and grabbed a towel from under the table, busying myself with wiping my hands and taking a drink of water. “Hey, Shaw. You might want to hurry. The office will be opening soon for Saturday appointments.”

He pushed up on his elbows again, and a hand went to his eyes, pinching between them. “Yeah. Um. I need a minute.”

I stepped to him, coming around the front of the table so I could face him. “Are you okay? Are you having a muscle spasm? Did I hurt you?” I reached for his shoulder.

He held up a hand but didn’t look at me. “No. No. Um. Why don’t you get your stuff together, and I’ll get dressed.”

But he didn’t move.

“Shaw—”

“Kelce. You were fine. In fact, you did a great job. I was very relaxed. It felt great.”

“Then what’s?—”

He caught my eyes, and his face turned bright red.

“Um. What you did to me felt really, really good.” His eyes danced, and the small, shy smile on his face made him look like a teenager again.

“Maybe too good. I, um…I don’t want to embarrass us—well, I don’t want to embarrass you.

That ship has sailed with me obviously.” And he dropped his head.

I let out a loud laugh. “I’m sorry.” I patted his shoulder. “It happens.”

“What?” He straightened more and then winced again. “You give men hard-ons regularly? Jesus, Kelcie?—”

“No. Not that—stop!” My face was burning. “You’re making this…ugh! I’m going to the restroom.” I motioned to him, trying hard to pull back on my laughter. “Take a moment and gather yourself.” I gestured to his crotch. “I’ll meet you out front.”

He pointed at me, trying to be stern, but his lips were twitching. “This stays between us. No one needs to know I had this reaction.”

I waved him off then walked to the restroom to pull myself together, whispering to myself, “No one would believe it anyway.”

The staff was at the front desk by the time we were getting ready to leave. As I waited for Shaw, I chatted with one of my co-workers.

“Hey, just the woman I was hoping to run into.” Mitch Williams’ slight drawl was unmistakable, and I couldn’t help but smiling when I heard it.

Flirtatious and kind, Mitch was exactly the kind of guy my bruised and confused confidence needed these days. While he wasn’t my client, we always exchanged flirtatious banter when he was in for his PT. His dazzling, mischievous smile only made his tall, lean, athletic body look hotter.

“Hey there,” I said. “I heard you were graduating from PT. Congratulations, although I will miss seeing you around here.

Mitch scanned the open-concept PT treatment area. “Yeah. It’s good to get back on both feet, but I will miss hanging out with some of the people.” He turned his gaze on me, slid his hands in his track pants, and said, “Some more than others.”

“I’m sorry we never got a chance to work together,” I said. Though I’d always wondered why. He jumped around to different therapists, but our paths never crossed. I’d simply assumed it was because our schedules didn’t sync.

He gently put his hand on my elbow, guiding me to the waiting area and away from everyone else.

“Trust me, I would’ve loved for you to be my PT, but my ego couldn’t take it.”

“What?”

He stepped closer. “I didn’t want you to see me sobbing like a toddler.” I started to laugh, and he leaned over, his breath tickling my ear. “Not the impression I wanted to leave on a woman I wanted to date,” he whispered.

He moved back to study my reaction. I was too shocked to camouflage my expression.

“Well, that doesn’t do much for my ego,” he said, trying to maintain a playful tone.

I shook my head, resting my hand on his arm. “No, I’m sorry. I think you just took me by surprise.”

Just touching him felt…strange. It was fun having Mitch to flirt with—he seemed like the easygoing type who flirted with everyone. But it was exhilarating to have such a good-looking man interested in me. I hadn’t been on a date since… God, in over a decade. James and I hadn’t had many date nights.

“So, is it a good surprise?”

Answer him, Kelcie. Don’t be a dud.

“Yes, of course,” I said. “That would be great.”

Great. You couldn’t find a better word?

Over his shoulder, Shaw’s hulking form exited the changing room and was walking toward us.

His shy smile caught me for a moment, and my stomach sank with a strange emotion causing me to hesitate.

What was I doing? I wasn’t with Shaw. If anything, I needed to start to lay down some boundaries for myself.

He wasn’t sticking around. He was getting better, and then he’d be gone.

I needed to date. I needed to have other things—and other men—to occupy my thoughts.

“How about I call you?” Mitch said.

“Yes. Great.” I grabbed a pen and a business card off the front desk and jotted my name and number down. Our fingers touched while I handed him the card, and he held onto it for just a second as he stared at me.

“I’ll call you.”

I nodded. Shaw’s approach was coming fast, and I didn’t want them to meet.

Not like this. Why did it feel like cheating, like I was stepping out on Shaw?

It made no sense, but I wanted to keep those two worlds separate.

I didn’t need Shaw to know about my dating life—or that I was starting to get one.

“Hey, ready to go?” he said, shifting his bag on his shoulder.

“Yes.” I started digging through my purse just to kill time until Mitch was in his car.

“How about stopping at the café for some coffee?” Shaw said.

“Great.” I hadn’t shaken off the tendency to speak in monosyllabic responses yet. As we walked out, Shaw’s hand went to my lower back, escorting me through the door.

My enthusiasm about Mitch and our date slipped. Shaw’s touch through my shirt affected me more than Mitch’s brief touch of my hand.

Dwelling on the differences between the men wasn’t very productive, and I forced myself to step away from Shaw the minute we were outside, making a beeline for the car.

Dating other people and opening myself to the possibility of being attracted to other, more available, men was a challenge I could no longer ignore—even though I wanted to.

* * *

Later that morning, I went to meet Aliya and Grace for a coffee while, against my better judgment, Shaw had decided to hang with Aaron and the boys at the park and play a game of two-hand touch.