Page 10 of Goalie Secrets
“Tell her about Bernie,” Paul says, and Ashley groans.
“Who’s Bernie?”
“Paul’s cousin. He went to Ohio State University, so Paul asked about Columbus. Apparently, he still has tons of friends in the area.”
“Single friends!” Paul adds.
Ever since these two found happily-ever-after, they insist it’s possible for everyone. They are delusional if they think I’m taking a random person’s number. Could there be a more obvious prelude to disaster than meeting up with my best friend’s husband’s cousin’s single friends?Shudder.
“No need to involve your family and their college buddies in my dating life, Paul,” I gripe.
“If you get bored and change your mind, let me know.”
“Go away already,” Ashley says, likely pushing her husband away. “I looked up the clinic.” She returns to our call. “You deserve to be in the best facilities, Vanya.”
“Thanks, hon. How about you? How are you feeling these days?”
Ashley is on a strict pain management plan for her EDS. Unlike Jeremy Lopez, my friend didn’t get the benefits of agility and quick reflexes. Her extremely flexible joints and connective tissue disorder developed into fibromyalgia. She’s combating the chronic pain with muscle strengthening and medication. Despite these challenges, her zest for life is stronger than anyone I know.
In the last few years, my research has led me to believe that an earlier prevention plan would have helped stave off the worst symptoms for Ashley. She was misdiagnosed for years. What is needed is a long-term study with measurable physical performance data. That’s hard to come by. This is why Jeremy is uniquely suitable for my research. He’s an elite goalie whose performance has been tracked for years.
“I’m on a good streak, despite missing you terribly,” Ashley says. “The knee braces are finally a perfect fit. They’re helping a lot.”
“That’s great, Ash,” I say, relieved.
“Well? How was the first day?”
Without realizing what was forefront in my mind, I say, “I met Jeremy Lopez.”
“Yeah? What’s he like? Tell me he’s as hot in person as he is on TV.”
Way hotter.
“He thought I was a stripper.”
She makes a choking sound. “My tea just went up my nose! Did you say stripper?”
The memory of the cash he left on the counter makes my cheeks burn.
“I have no idea what that man’s life must be like if he’s randomly accosted by women who want to undress for him. At any rate, we had a session, and things were… interesting.”
That’s all I can discuss, even with my best friend. What happens in a medical exam room is private. My mind strays to a memory of Jeremy’s lower back dimples just above the curve of his bubble butt.
Excuse me, Vanya, but what the hell?
His isn’t the first muscled physique I’ve treated.I’ve worked with many athletes before andnever oncereferred to their anatomy that way. The section of my brain that processes attraction completely turns off when I enter the examination room. I’m a sexually experienced woman who knows how to keep my personal inclinations far, far away from my work obligations.
As in, the distance between continents.
I must be more exhausted than I realized. Or all that strip-for-me or don’t-strip-for-me shenanigans momentarily jostled my professionalism. Won’t happen again, that’s for sure.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, hearing the uncertainty in my voice.
“I took Kyle’s offer of the fellowship to draw attention toward early EDS pain management. But after today, I’m not sure I’ll be working with Lopez at all.”
She pauses, letting my words settle between us.
“It’s your first day, hon. There’s no need to rush decisions. Why don’t you give yourself a break tonight? I thought your rental was in a cool neighborhood. Maybe take a walk to clear your mind.”