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FORTY-TWO

LEXI

There’s a doughnut waiting for me on my desk when I get to work on Saturday morning. The boys have an afternoon skate and won’t come in until later, so the arena is quiet to start the day, and I don’t know who is lurking around. A quick check of my calendar tells me I have no appointments with any players until eleven, and I lift the treat to inspect it.

“I didn’t poison it,” Riley says from the entrance to the locker room, and I drop the pastry so I can lob a stapler at his head in an effort to protect myself. “Jesus Christ. It’s just me, Lex.”

“You cannot sneak up on a woman alone in her office without announcing yourself.” I put a hand on my desk and take a deep breath, my heart skipping a beat when I realize it’s him. “That’s not nice.”

“Did you forget about our session this morning?”

“Shit.” I look at my calendar again and spot the little R in the right-hand corner of today’s date. Our sessions have moved to twice a week instead of every day based on his improvements, and with the season ending in less than a month and our fight for the playoffs amping up, my brain is all over the place. “I did. I can’t keep track of what day it is. Sorry.”

“I should be the one apologizing. That was creepy of me to startle you.”

I scoop the doughnut up and groan as I take a bite. “Apology accepted. This is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

Riley laughs and sits on the edge of the treatment table. “I would say I’m offended, but I had one on the way over, and I have to agree.”

“Thank you for this.” I lick a drop of jam away from the corner of my mouth and smile. “How did you know I needed something to get through the day?”

“I know everything.” He takes off his sneakers and lets them fall to the floor. He stretches out on the table with his arms behind his head. “How do you want me today, Lex?”

“I’m going to defer to you. Is there anything in particular you want to work on?”

“Is napping an option?” He tosses me a rogue grin I feel in the center of my chest, and I have to tuck my chin to avoid him seeing my blush. “If not, anything that will require you putting your hands on me.”

“This is a professional environment, Mitchy. Keep your dick in your pants.”

“Says the girl who can’t even look at me.”

I roll my eyes and lift my gaze to meet his. “Better?”

“Much. I mean this in the least creepy way possible, but how about a massage then some time on the treadmill in the weight room? The strength and conditioning coaches have been working on building my speed back up, and I want to see how fast I can go today.”

“I thought you hated running.” I finish off the doughnut and wash my hands in the corner of the room. “How times have changed.”

“I think it’s because it was taken away from me. I’ve missed it. I can’t run in this prosthetic because it’s too heavy, and I’ve been thinking about asking my doctor for a blade I can try. It’s not hockey, but it’s something.”

“Really? That’s awesome, Riley. It would be exciting to try something new.”

“Yeah.” He nods and pushes the button on his socket, waiting for the air to release. When he pops it off, he hands it to me, and I set it against the wall. “We’ll see.”

“Where do you want me to massage?”

“My left leg then my right one. If, ah, that doesn’t gross you out.”

“Why would it gross me out?”

“Because it’s scarred and fucked up. The last time you, um, touched me like that was in a dark room.” His throat bobs around a swallow. “You can see everything under these lights. Every mark. Every spot on my body from where they sewed me together. There’s, uh, less places for me to hide in here, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with what I’m showing you.”

“First of all, nothing about you is fucked up,” I say, hoping he can hear the conviction behind my words. “And I don’t care how bright it is in here. Would you prefer if I dimmed the lights? It could recreate the mood.”

“No. I’m fine with it. I see my limb every day. I want to make sure you’re okay with it,” he says.

“I’m more than okay with it.”

“Glad to hear it.” He flips on his stomach and rests his arms at his side, blowing out a long breath. I grab a hot towel from the warmer and drape it over the back of his residual limb, smiling at his low groan. “That feels so fucking good.”

“I haven’t given anyone a massage in a while, so no making fun of how out of practice I am.” I start on his left leg, working on the tendons in his hamstrings then down to his calves. “How was your night?”

We had plans to meet up yesterday, but he texted me an hour before I was supposed to head to his place and asked to cancel. He was in a bad mood, overwhelmed after a frustrating day with his body and another adjustment at his prosthetist’s office, and I agreed without a second thought.

I’m so glad I get to see him today.

I didn’t realize how much I would miss him until I tried falling asleep last night. I kept getting distracted by the scent of his shampoo on the pillow he likes to sleep on. I cradled it to my chest and woke up this morning smelling like him, a fact I like way more than I should.

“I turned off my phone, did some painting, and started a new book. It was fine, but I probably would’ve been in a better mood if you had come over.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure I would’ve annoyed you.”

“You never annoy me.” He pauses when I move up the hem of his shorts, thumbs pressing along the lines of his muscles. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I admit quietly, and it’s scary to put that out into the universe. I never miss anyone besides my girlfriends, but when Riley’s not around, his absence is noticeable. An ache in my chest carves itself out when we say goodbye after spending time together, and no matter what I do, I can’t soothe the sting when he leaves. “A lot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Riley turns his hand right-side up, an invitation there. I hesitate for only a fraction of a second before I slide my palm against his and lace our fingers together. He relaxes the second our touches meet, and so do I.

He’s warm and comforting, the swipe of his thumb over the curve of my knuckles a welcome display of affection.

When did I get so reliant on him making me feel good?

When did my happiness become intertwined with him being around?

When did I start smiling nonstop?

What if I never stop?

“Can I ask you a question?” Riley murmurs, and I look down at him.

“Sure.”

“I want you to let me get it all out before you answer, okay?”

“Sounds like something I’m going to hate, but let’s hear it.”

“Hang on. I need to sit up for this.” He takes his time flipping onto his back and sliding up the treatment table so we’re facing each other. “Moment of honesty?”

“Yeah,” I croak, afraid of what he’s going to say next.

Does he not want to see me anymore?

Am I being too clingy by asking to spend time with him almost every day?

Has he noticed the shift between us, the start of something deeper than physical attraction brewing beneath the surface when we lie together, tangled up in sheets and sharing secrets we’ve never told anyone else?

“This friends with benefits thing has been amazing,” he starts, and I’d be shocked if he couldn’t hear my heart beating right now. “But what I feel for you isn’t strictly physical anymore. It never was, and it was shitty of me to pretend otherwise. I-I want to go out to dinner and hold your hand in public. I want to go to bookstores together so we can argue over which books are best. I want to go to another amusement park and laugh until I cry. I want to take you out on a date—a real date—and I know that word might scare the shit out of you, but we can go slow and do things on your terms, because I’m sick of acting like I’m only interested in hanging out with you if it means I get to fuck you. I want so much more than that, and I think you might too.”

The world stops moving, and I suck in a sharp breath. Riley is staring at me with gentle, kind eyes, and never, in my entire life, have I ever felt so vulnerable and off-balance, but also so seen and understood.

It’s like he’s staring into the depths of my soul, and if any other person on this earth said those things to me, I’d run. I’d be out the door and halfway to my car, but I can’t seem to bring myself to move. I’m rooted here, in a way. Frozen in place while he waits to hear what I have to say with a patient smile and a soft pink blush on his cheeks.

“What… what would change?” I ask, voice shaking with fear. “Between us?”

“Nothing,” he says automatically. “If you want things to stay the same, they’ll stay the same. There’s just more… heart to it all.”

“Heart,” I repeat. “And we can go slow?”

“As slow as you want.”

“I don’t know how good I’ll be.”

“Me either. But we can try together. If you want.”

I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything else, because Riley makes it sound easy and fun, but I’m terrified I’m going to mess up. I’m terrified I won’t be good enough for him, and he deserves so much good after the shit he’s been through.

“Can we still be friends if…” I trail off and wring my hands together. “If things don’t work out?”

“Yes,” he says. “Of course. You’re my best friend, Lexi. Nothing will change that.”

Every part of me that’s been conditioned to shove men away and live happily ever after by myself wants to scream no. I’ve done just fine for so long, so why should I change things now?

But… it’s him , and if it’s going to work with anyone, it’s going to be with the man who brings me doughnuts and tells me how capable I am. The man who listens to me and encourages me, and every wonderful thing he’s done for me in the time we’ve spent together comes racing to the front of my mind. It’s what makes me nod my head. What makes me huff out a laugh.

“Okay,” I say, and I rewarded with his brightest smile yet. “We’ll try,”

“Yeah?” he asks, and I nod again.

“Yeah,” I say. “But only so we can argue about books and I can tell you why I’m right.”

“What makes you think I won’t let you win?”

“Because I’d be furious with you if you did.”

“I know you would be.” Riley tugs on my wrist, and I step close to him. “You’re in charge, Lex. You’re calling the shots, and I’m entirely at your mercy.”

I’ve never had power like this before, and it makes me feel like I’m on top of the world. I give his shoulder a light shove, rolling my eyes when he lets out a laugh, then I pat the table.

“If that’s the case, get on your stomach, Mitchell. You have work to do, and you shouldn’t be flirting with the training staff. That goes against NATA’s Code of Ethics.”

“What the hell does that acronym mean?”

“It’s the National Athletic Trainers Association. I, um, did some research when we started sleeping together regularly,” I admit. “I wanted to cover my bases in case someone found out about us and tried to get me in trouble for spending time with you outside the arena.”

“And?” Riley presses. “What did you find out?”

“It’s all kind of vague. We’re not supposed to engage in conduct that could be construed as a conflict of interest. We’re also conduct ourselves in manner that doesn’t compromise professional responsibilities.”

“Wow.” He blinks. “It’s like you just threw a rulebook at me.”

“I know. Sorry. I obviously didn’t…” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I didn’t see us getting this far because I never get this far with a guy, but after you took care of me when I was sick, I was curious. Technically you’re not on the team, so technically I’m not breaking any rules. And nothing we’re doing jeopardizes my credibility as an athletic trainer.”

“Does that mean we’re in the clear?”

“For now. If—when—you rejoin the team down the road, we’re probably going to have to have a conversation with management, but we can tackle that as it comes.”

“Darn. It would’ve been kind of fun to break the rules,” Riley says.

“Please. You’re not a rule breaker.”

“I could be.” The grin he flashes me is mischievous, bold. “For you.”

I bite back my own laughter, not wanting him to see how much he affects me. Not wanting him to know how light I feel when he’s around, how easy everything is when he smiles at me.

It feels like I’ve been flying for months now, and I’m terrified of finding out what happens when I land.