Page 8

Ruben

Dinner was done and everyone started leaving faster than I expected. When Max tried to get up, he was having even more trouble with the crutches than he had when we got here. “Take it slow. We’ve got time,” I said, but I knew there was little chance he’d try to slow down. We walked out the door behind most of the team and I thought Max was probably really feeling his injuries now.

“I can’t wait to get to bed,” Max said and took a seat at a bench outside the restaurant. “Mind if I rest here?”

“Nope, stay put. I’ll bring the car around,” I said and hurried off. It was easy to be around Max and I hated that he’d been injured so badly, but that was part of the game. And it was a big part of his position as goalie, but it was also a very mentally challenging position—he had to be aware at all times of who had the puck and where they were headed with it. I pulled in a deep breath and enjoyed the silence of the car before starting it and driving to where he sat. As soon as I pulled up in front of him, he grinned and tried to navigate the crutches enough to get over to the car. “Let me help.”

“Sorry, I just cannot seem to get the hang of it,” he said and hopped on his other foot while holding the crutches out. He plopped onto the car seat, and I took the crutches from him so he could shut the door. “Are you sure I need to use them? My knee is feeling better.”

“When we get to your place, I’ll unwrap it and see how it looks. If it’s not as swollen, then I’ll change the wrap to make it easier to walk. I mostly wanted you to give it a good rest before tomorrow.”

“That would be great. It would be nice to be able to move once I’m in bed,” he said and rattled off his address. It was nearby and within a few short minutes we were pulling up to his house.

“This is nice,” I said. It was an older area of town with large old-growth trees and rows of houses that had all been built sometime in the forties.

“It’s my parents’. I live in the back in a small granny unit,” he said and opened the car door. I hurried to the trunk and took out the crutches as well as his bag. “I really hate those things.”

“Okay okay, not much longer now,” I said and followed him along the side of the house while he grumbled about not being able to bend his fucking knee. A small house was set at the very back of the yard and as we got closer a light came on above the door that made it easier to see where we were going.

After once again handing me his crutches, he balanced on his good leg while unlocking and shoving his door open. “Come in, I need to use the bathroom,” he said and hopped and hobbled to the first door off a short hallway.

“Shit,” I said before going back out to my car to get what I’d need to change his wraps. After grabbing the bag of supplies I’d brought out of the trunk, I walked back inside just as he was hopping down the hall. “Have a seat on the couch and I’ll check it out.” He had pants on that he’d somehow managed to fit over the wrapping, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to lift the leg high enough to expose his knee.

He pulled at his pants before giving up and sliding them down his legs. “Sorry but these pants were not going to let me push them up above my knee.”

My eyes were drawn to the dark hair on his legs and his defined thigh muscles. I forced myself to ignore what was at the top of those muscular legs and concentrated on unwrapping the bandage I’d put on him earlier. “It looks better,” I said and palpitated the skin around where he’d been hit. Where it was slightly bruised earlier it had bloomed into a full dark bruise now but the bump that had been there had flattened out. “I think if you ice it through the night, it shouldn’t be an issue for you to play.” I looked up to find his eyes on me instead of his leg, and at first, I thought something was wrong but then he leaned down and gripped my hair with his hand and kissed me hard.

I hesitated for a moment before cupping his face in my hands and kissing him back. It was wet and sloppy and filled with heat and lust, and I was helpless to pull away. After another kiss, or two—or three, we pulled apart, both of us panting but neither letting go of the other. “Sorry,” he said.

“For what?” I asked and pressed my forehead against his.

“For waiting so long to do that.”

I grinned, unable to stop myself. “We only met today.”

“I know, but the very first time I saw you I had to force myself not to think of you or I knew if I let that thought cross my mind, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on the game.”

“Really?” I asked and moved back enough to meet his eyes.

“Really. You didn’t act like you were interested at all. Plus, I was stressed out that it was my first night and there were numerous injuries, and I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You handled it all really well, and I know exactly what you mean. I thought I’d be sitting on the bench so when I got the call that I’d be playing I was instantly stressed. There would only be one chance, and I didn’t want to blow it. But there was something about you from the moment I saw you.” His hand massaged the back of my head and lulled me into a state of relaxation I hadn’t felt in months.

Clearing my throat, I moved back far enough to look at his knee and ignored the bulge in his boxers. “Bend it and see how it feels.”

He bent it before standing right in front of me and smiling. “It feels better.”

“Good, but you’ll still need to ice it tonight. Speaking of—” I took out an ice pack and cracked it open before pressing it against his leg. He looked down at me from where he stood while I knelt at his feet. He was gorgeous, his dark hair and dark eyes were intense, but full of kindness and warmth. And desire.

I watched his throat as he swallowed but never took his eyes off me. “Doc, what are your plans for tonight?” he managed to say, his voice rough. Now it was me swallowing and fighting the urge to touch him.