Page 61 of Goalie Secrets

“I don’t sleep around, Vanya. This is exclusive.” The words float out with no hesitation or thought. It’s like my vocal cords did their job before my brain gave the instruction.

“I, um, I would never think otherwise. But I’m glad we’re clear. Exclusive.” There’s relief in her exhale. “Next?”

“That’s it for me,” I state honestly and with no regard for self-preservation. Agreeing to her conditions is a given, at this point.

She wraps her arms around my neck. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but this has to be said.”

“Say it,” I declare. “Just remember it’s your job to kiss and make it better after you hurt me.”

That was meant to be a joke, but she doesn’t laugh. Instead, Vanya presses her lips to my cheek. There’s something sad about the chasteness.

“No one can know,” she whispers. “Ever.”

Her face is close, breath warm against my skin.

No one can know. Ever.

I suspected some version of caution from my doctor, yet those two harsh syllables slice into me.Ever?It’s too definitive for something that’s just starting.

“That’s a bit dramatic. It’s not like I’ll be grabbing you in front of everyone at the clinic or flying us to Vegas for an elopement.”

Her eyes widen at how specific I am. Mentioning an elopement is unhinged, even for me.

“We can never talk about this fling, Jeremy. This isn’t just about the people we work with. I’m compiling data throughout this year. Any personal connection to the subject of study will undermine the findings.”

Findings of what? My galloping heart stops and plummets.

“Me. I’m your subject of study.”

I’m not naive. Of course, all those notes she takes on my treatment are useful in a vague, research way. But being called a subject of study, a mere source ofdata,is a jab in the gut.

“Yes, of course. That’s why I accepted the fellowship this year.”

Jab meet twist. “You’re only here for a year?”

“Yes. My life is in Boston. But Kyle convinced me to give this a shot and…” she pauses.

“And what, Vanya?” I prompt her even if I can’t imagine an answer that would make me feel better.

“A professional athlete with EDS is rare.”

“You’re talking about me like I’m a nearly extinct species.”

“Jeremy,” she says with a sigh.

A tug-of-war intensifies in my chest, tearing me apart from inside.

On one side is prideful stubbornness that refuses to cheapen what’s happening here. Am I supposed to accept that I’m nothing but a project for Vanya’s career while she makes a pit stop in Columbus? Fuck that. I won’t be reduced to a fling.

My entire adult life, I knew that wasn’t for me. I’ve only ever had sex with two women, both of them girlfriends who cared for me as much as I had cared for them. If Vanya wants a fling, I’m not for her and she’s not for me. I don’t need the humiliation of being a useful study-slash-fuckboy.

But the other side of that struggle couldn’t care less about being used. My attraction to Vanya is more passion than my past relationships combined. For the first time in my life, I understand what it means to obsess about touching another person, to want to be with them no matter the cost.

So what if I’ve never had a casual fling? There’s a first time for everything. I can’t walk away from the possibility of us. Vanya is here till at least October next year, right? My foolish, optimistic heart surges at the opportunity to be with Vanya tonight, tomorrow, and months from now.

She stands up to give me space but does not back away. Warm, supple hips yield to my eager grasp. She leans into me and strokes my hair.

“We can’t make this public because you wouldn’t be able to publish your findings, is that it?”