Page 34 of Goalie Secrets
“Never!”
“Are you denying the move or the location?”
“Oh my god, how the hell do you do that? Fine. He was helping me with the heater downstairs and yes, something happened.”
“Is heater downstairs a metaphor? Like some kind of Midwest innuendo?”
I can’t help but chortle. “It’s literal. My heater wasn’t working, so he got it started.”
“I bet he did!”
We both laugh. For the first time since my encounter with Jeremy, I feel something other than shame at my lack of professionalism. Like a secret that bubbles up to the surface, my admission is freeing.
“We kissed and did a few more things,” I say demurely instead ofI rode his face and then he came all over both of us.“It was hot, Ashley. As in maybe the most erotic experience I’ve ever had. And we didn’t even sleep together.”
The memory of our intimacy excites me in ways I’ve never felt for another man. Admitting it out loud comes with relief because Ashley won’t judge me.
“Oh my god, Vanya, that’s amazing! Wait. Is this a dinner date for the two of you and I’m the third wheel?”
“He’s my patient. I’m not dating him, Ashley. It happened once and it won’t happen again.”
“Who cares if he’s your patient? Can’t you sign some kind of consent form? How can you have the most erotic experience of your life and leave it at that?”
“You know why. I can’t compromise this study.”
That silences both of us for a few minutes. Cautiously, she reaches out to squeeze my hand.
“You do a lot for people with EDS, Vanya. You’ve done so much for me all these years. Intervening with my orthopedic troubles, creating treatment plans, offering your time and effort in ensuring the medical industry understands the gravity of this condition. Living your life is not going to compromise anything.”
“This isn’t my life. I’m only in Columbus temporarily, anyway. I can’t lose sight of what I’ve been trying to establish for years. With Jeremy as the main subject, public interest and funding will follow. My research lab will be a preeminent hub for EDS intervention. There will be nothing like it.”
She knows my goals are important to me. My career has taken center stage in all my decisions. Instead of pushing the issue, Ashley reaches out to give me a big hug. When our embrace ends, she locks our gazes.
“I’m so proud of you, Vanya. Proud and grateful that you’ve dedicated yourself to this cause that I’m benefiting from. That so many will benefit from. But as your best friend, as someone who would take a bullet for you—OK, maybe not a bullet but definitely a punch—let me say one thing. You deserve happiness above all else. If you shun away your chance to live a lifefully, in the name of helping EDS patients, that will break my heart.” Her eyes glisten with emotion.
“I am living my full life, Ashley,” I say confidently even if her words stamp themselves inside me. A stamp with a large question mark.AmI living my life fully?
“I love my best friend more than I need my doctor. Do you understand?”
“I love my best friend more than I like being a doctor. Of course I understand.”
“Good. So let me get this straight. You’re not pursuing anything beyond your kiss, but he’s making you dinner?”
“This is a one-time thing. He was bragging about cooking Guatemalan food for some friends and we’re invited. End of story. I can say no.”
“Of course we’re going!”
“In that case, we’ll be crossing the street in,” I check my watch, “about an hour.”
“Soak your hair in the leave-in conditioner I brought. I’m blow drying it. And you better have shaved your legs. I know exactly the dress you’re wearing,” she states with the certainty that I will follow her instructions.
She’s as bossy as a tyrant, but I don’t mind because she understands me in a way no one else has ever bothered to. Thisisn’t the first time Ashley has chosen my wardrobe or forced me out of my comfort zone. Although I’m not sure if spending more time with Jeremy Lopez is a good idea, Ashley will be there. Even an awkward dinner is bearable if she’s part of it.
I haven’t hosted one of these dinners in a while, so the impromptu invitations are accepted with surprise and gusto.
Dexter and Sabrina show up with dessert, Rose and Ken some wine, and the rest of the guys—Sean, Gordon, and Randi—bring their appetites. Everyone arrives right at eight, hungry for a home-cooked meal. That is, everyoneexceptthe woman across the street who is the reason I put this dinner together in the first place.
“That smells awesome!” Gordon says while looming over the empanadas I pulled out of the oven. “Let me make sure they taste right.” He reaches out for one, but I smack his hand away with my oven mitt.