by Anna Edwards
“I think you taste better than I do. Are you okay?” she asks, concern showing on her face again.
I manage to nod. I’m pretty certain any chance of me speaking intelligibly for the next few minutes has gone. I need to get my breath back. Tucking myself back in my shorts, I look up at Arabella as she walks over to me and presses a kiss to my lips. I can taste myself on her, and she’s wrong about one thing—she definitely tastes better. I wonder what we’d taste like together? That’s my next mission in life.
The intercom on Arabella’s desk buzzes, and she presses a button to answer it.
“Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Smith. We’ve got another supposed groin injury. Do you want me to tell him to go away?” Her receptionist's voice sounds just as irritated by the sudden influx of players with fake injuries as the woman standing in front of me is.
Arabella rolls her eyes. “I’m just finishing up with Mr. Humphreys, give me five minutes, and I’ll come out.”
A protective anger grows within me. I need to put a stop to this now. I get to my feet and pull Arabella to me.
“Mine,” I inform her and place a possessive kiss on her lips. “I think it’s about time I let everyone know you’re off-limits.”
Chapter 5
Arabella
Once my final client of the day leaves, I prepare for tomorrow morning’s first session and tidy my clinic room. I can still taste Zeke in my mouth from earlier. I can’t believe I sucked him off during a therapy session. I’ve never done anything like it before. I must admit I’m nervous he’s telling the other players about our budding relationship, but if knowing about us stops them coming to the clinic and wasting my time, then it’ll definitely be beneficial.
There have been teething issues, and I’m absolutely exhausted, but it’s been a fabulous first week. I’ve fallen in love with being here. I want to become an important part of the coaching staff and help the team achieve even more greatness—in spite of the fact I still don’t understand the rules of the game they’re playing.
Using any spare time I have, I plan to take a look at the players’ training sessions and observe how they warm up and cool down. I want to see if I can add anything to their regime to reduce the chance of injury as a result of this essential part of their day. It’s something I studied for my final thesis at university, and it’s interested me ever since. I’ll have to adjust my theories a little, though, because my thesis was aimed more toward tennis players than footballer players.
When my room is tidy, I change out of my scrubs and into a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt with ‘I love ice-cream. Take it away from me at your own peril’ printed on the front. Grabbing my bag and laptop, I switch the lights off in the room and walk out, locking the door behind me.
I’m the only one who has the key to my clinic room. I keep confidential handwritten patient notes as well as typed ones there, and I don’t want anyone going through my filing cabinets and reading them. I know I joke about the players and their groin injuries, but there are some who do have real problems. It’s important to monitor injured players closely and ensure any potential life changing injuries are picked up early.
Chronic traumatic encephalopathy, for example, is a devastating issue in football these days. It’s caused by damage to the brain as a result of the frequent hits players take to their heads. It can lead to personality changes including mood problems and general thinking issues. It’s an immediate end to a player’s career if it’s discovered they have it. Thankfully, none of the players here are showing any symptoms, but that doesn’t mean I don’t keep full and insightful notes, and I don’t want anyone else reading them.
I’m looking forward to sinking into a nice warm bath when I get home, followed by a tub of ice-cream and a glass or two of wine. It’s my day off tomorrow, and I don’t plan on getting up until at least lunchtime. The rest of the building is quiet as I leave, most people having already gone home for the night. I make my way past security, and stepping outside into the fresh air and vibrancy of Seattle, I’m reminded of why I love this place. It’s a part of me. Zeke’s right—if you cut me open, I’ll bleed green.
“It’s only a bit of fun.” I hear Cliff Hanson say with a chuckle.
The sun is setting, and it’s getting dark, so I’m not entirely sure where his voice is coming from until I see a group of about four players standing together a few feet away. I recognize Zeke’s silhouette immediately with his long dreadlocks and muscular thighs. It’s not that the other players don’t have thighs that ancient Greek statues would be proud of, it’s just I know every defined line of Zeke’s.
“I know it's only a bit of fun, but please, you have to stop,” Zeke insists.
“Why?” I recognize the voice of Will Montgomery, the quarterback and captain of the team. “I haven’t been involved. I don’t feel it’s appropriate, because of my relationship with Meg, but it’s sort of an initiation ceremony. We do it to most people when they first start working here. Is there something we need to know?”
I watch as Zeke rubs his hands over his head in frustration. I’m suddenly feeling nervous. If the team doesn’t approve of us being together, then this could be the end of my career. I bring my fingers up to my mouth and nibble nervously near the edge of one of my manicured nails.
“Okay, hands up.” Zeke gestures his surrender. “Arabella and I used to date in high school. We drifted apart at college, but the old spark’s still there. We’ve been on a few dates since she started working here, and I’d like to take it further. I can see she’s tired of being pestered by players turning up with fake injuries. I’m just asking if the team could take it easy on her. Stop with the joke visits and let her do her job. She wants to look more closely at our training routines and see if we can do them differently to prevent injuries. She knows her stuff.”
“Are you claiming her?” Will nods his head toward Zeke.
“Yeah, she’s mine, off limits.”
The other players surrounding Zeke fall silent. I hold my breath and nibble harder around the nail.
“Okay, the visits stop.” Will claps his hand on Zeke’s back. “I’m happy for you, mate. It’s about time you found someone. I’ll talk to Meg, and we’ll arrange a double date soon.”
“I’d like that. Thanks.” Zeke and Will hug.
“Speaking of Meg, I better get going before she busts my balls for being late to her concert. I’ll catch you all later.”
“See ya,” Zeke says goodbye to his friend, and Will walks off, leaving him with Cliff and another player I don’t recognize.
“You just had to spoil our fun, didn’t you?” Cliff complains.
“Sorry, mate, and by the way, Arabella was never going to go anywhere near your ass. She’s got far more taste,” Zeke jokes, and I bring my finger down from my mouth, suddenly not so nervous and enjoying the banter between the teammates instead.
“Not if she likes your ass, she hasn’t,” Cliff retorts. “No wonder you’ve been spending all those hours having therapy this week. I would as well with that comfortable examination bed in her room. Has she been giving your hamstring plenty of massages?”
“I bet Zeke will be getting injured more often now,” the other player says, joining in. “Come on, mate, share the details. She’s gorgeous. If you aren’t going to let us initiate her in the normal way, you could at least give us the lowdown on what’s under the scrubs.”
I gulp, no, no. He wouldn’t. I couldn’t do my job if the players were talking about my sex life. All they’ll be thinking about when I’m telling them how to deal with their injuries is what I do to Zeke. He surely won't tell them anything? My pulse quickens as I go into a panic. My imagination whirring like a cyclone in the dusky evening. The entire football program is male dominated. Yes, there are women’s teams, but the head coaches, the owners, my bosses, they’re all men. If they hear about my sex life with a player, then I’m going to lose the job I’ve worked so hard to get, and no other team will employ me. My palms are s
weating.
“All right, under the scrubs she’s got a killer body. She’s beautiful…” Zeke starts to tell his teammates, and they lean in to get a better appreciation of what the man I’ve been falling for is saying.
My ears start ringing, and I don’t hear anything else Zeke says. I storm out from my hiding place and head straight toward where they’re standing.
“How could you, Zeke?” I’m so furious I’m not in control of my body. I form a fist and send it flying into Zeke’s face. He looks at me in shock before raising his hand to his cheek. “How could you tell them what we did? They don’t need to know I sucked you off earlier and all the details. That’s supposed to be private between us.”
Zeke’s eye goes wide.
He tries to interrupt me, but I refuse to let him as I continue my rant. “I thought you were different, but I can see now you’re just one of the guys. I bet you were only entertaining my feelings of lust for you because you wanted me to help you get fit enough to play in the Super Bowl. Well, congratulations, you got what you wanted, and my career’s ruined as a result. I hate you, Zeke Humphreys. Stay the fuck away from me. If you ever come near me again, I might administer the treatment I recommend for imaginary groin injuries and shove the nearest sharp object I can find up your ass.”
Without letting Zeke get another word in, because he’s a man, and let’s face it, anything that comes out of his mouth will be lies, just like all the other people with the Y chromosome, I turn on my heels and storm off toward my car. Zeke must come after me because as I speed out of the car park with tears streaming down my face, he’s standing there trying to wave me down. I avoid him and keep going straight on.
I ignore all the phone calls and text messages that ping on my phone as I drive home. I even leave my phone in the car when I reach my house and go inside, so I don’t have to listen to it. I’m so angry. I want to cry, but I also want to hit someone even more. Why do men feel the need to lie to women and use them? It’s not fair. I thought Zeke was different. I thought he was trustworthy, but he’s just proven to me he isn’t.
I head for the freezer, collecting a big spoon from a drawer on the way, and pull out the largest tub of ice-cream I can find. It’s cookie dough flavor with chocolate chips, and as I make my way to the bathroom to drown my sorrows in the bath, I start to devour it, secure in the knowledge I’ll be single for the rest of my life.
Chapter 6
Zeke
“Okay, maybe I’m glad I didn’t try to hit on that one.” Cliff pats me on the back as I desperately try to get hold of Arabella on my phone. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” I reply dryly. “I think I’ll need it.”
I try again to call Arabella, but she doesn’t answer. I wasn’t about to reveal intimate details of our relationship to my teammates. I’d started by saying she’s beautiful, and I’d gone on to tell them they weren’t getting anything else from me, because what happens between us is private. She must have been so scarred by her ex-boyfriend’s behavior, though, she didn’t hear any of that. She just lost it with me, and damn, the girl can punch. My jaw is still smarting.
If she’s not going to answer my calls, then I’m going to have to find her and make sure she listens to me. I hop into my sports car, it’s obligatory for all football players to own one, and I make my way to her house. A thought hits me as I’m driving, and I call up Matt Montgomery. He’s Will's brother, and I’ve known him for a long time now. His partner, Nic, happens to be one of the best bakers in Seattle. I know for a fact Arabella has a sweet tooth, and if I come bearing gifts, I might be able to calm her down enough to get her to listen to me.
“Hello,” Matt answers the phone.
“Hi, it’s Zeke.”
“Hi, you okay? You sound a little stressed.”
“Remember when you said that I’ll know I’ve found the woman for me because she’ll drive me insane and turn me into a blathering idiot?”
“I’m not sure those were my exact words. I was toasting a successful scene with Nic at the club at the time, why? Have you found that woman?”
“Yes, and I’m being an idiot right now.”
Matt laughs and I hear the feminine voice of Nic in the background, asking who it is.
“It’s Zeke, he’s found his woman,” Matt replies to her, and I hear an excited squeal. “What do you need, Zeke? Advice? Some time in the club?” he questions, turning his attention back to me.
A quick vision of taking Arabella to Club Temptation hits me, but first, I need to get our relationship back on track.
“I might take her to the club soon, but for now, I need cakes and cookies. Anything Nic can give me in the next few seconds because I’m pulling up outside your house now.” I end the call and get out of my car.
Nic comes running out of the house excitedly with Matt following at a more leisurely pace.
“Is she with you?” Matt asks.
I shake my head. “No, she caught me talking about her with some of the other players. I wasn’t going to tell them intimate details or anything, but she had a bad experience in a past relationship, and I think she thought I was going to reveal all. I need something sweet to try to make it up to her. I’m not sure why I thought you might have something just lying around, but if you have, I’ll give you any amount of money to let me have it.”
“Good old love. It hits you when you least expect and makes you do crazy things.” Matt laughs again.
“Oh hush, you.” Nic sticks her tongue out at him, and he raises an eyebrow at her.
“I think someone’s asking for a spanking tonight,” Matt playfully reprimands her. “But first, take Zeke and get him a selection of those cakes and cookies you’ve been baking all day. I’ll help you make up the numbers by baking some more later.”
“Yes, Sir.” Nic lowers her head and makes her way back inside.
It doesn’t take her long to come back with a big box, and I mean so big she can only just see over the top of it, full of cakes. I rush forward to take it from her and put it in the car.
“Go get your girl,” Matt urges me as I shake his hand and press a thank-you kiss to Nic’s cheek.
“Thank you,” I say as I get back into the car and pull away.
Arabella doesn’t live too far from Matt and Nic. When I arrive, I get out of the car and grab the box of cakes and cookies. I make my way up Arabella’s drive, noting the lights are on and her car is here. I’m glad she made it home safely, considering the reckless way she was driving. I’ll be having a chat with her about that when we’ve made up.
I ring the doorbell, and while I wait for an answer, I cover up the peephole with the side of the box, making sure the picture of the cake on the packaging can be seen.
Eventually, the door opens, and pushing forward, I put the box down in the doorway and place my foot against the door before Arabella can shut it again.
“Go away,” she shouts. I can tell instantly she’s been crying. She has a half-eaten carton of ice-cream in one hand, and her hair is wet down her back. She’s covered only in a towel. “I’ll call the police.”
I gently push Arabella into her house and bring the cake box with me.
“No, you won’t, because you’re going to sit down and listen to me. You’ve said your piece at the training ground. Well I’m going to say mine now, and if you listen nicely, you get cakes and cookies. If you don’t, then I’m going to take them to an orphanage in the morning. I know you have a sweet tooth, so I’m sure you’ll be dying to sample them.” I open the lid of the box, and she peeks in, pretending not to care until she sees the sweet goodness.
“Oh my God.” Arabella backs up, her eyes not leaving the box, and sits on a nearby couch. “They’re so pretty.”
“Are you going to listen to me?” I ask again.
She nods her head. “Can I have one while I listen?”
She puts the tub of ice-cream down on a table next to her and reaches for a cake when I offer them to her. She selects a pink iced don
ut with sprinkles. Then making sure her towel is pulled up around her body, she sits back in her seat and takes a bite of the sweet treat.
“Did you actually hear all of my conversation earlier, or did you filter out the important parts?”
“I hate you.” Arabella glares at me but continues munching on the donut.
“I think you only heard the first part of what I said, so I’m going to set you straight, and you’re going to listen to me.”
“Go to hell, but leave the cakes,” Arabella replies.
“If I go, I take the cakes with me.” I fold my arms across my chest.
“Okay,” she huffs and waves for me to sit down on a chair opposite her.
“What you were listening to was me telling the guys that I don’t want them to harass you anymore, because you’re mine. I’ve fallen for you, and I want a proper relationship with you,” I begin to explain, but Arabella interrupts.
“Instead, you told them about me sucking you off.”
“Actually, it was you who told them about that. I was telling them I wouldn’t give them any intimate details, but you didn’t seem to hear that part while you were having a temper tantrum.”
“Huh?” Arabella’s mouth falls open, and I get a wonderful view of half chewed donut.
“You might want to shut your mouth. It’s not a pretty sight.” I laugh.
Arabella quickly chews and swallows her mouthful. “What do you mean, I’m the one who told them about what we did in my office? You were telling them I was beautiful and…oh…”
“You didn’t hear the rest, because you flew into a rage.” Arabella nods yes. “Listen, I’m not in this relationship with you to get anything from you, least of all to get special treatment so I’m fit in time for the Super Bowl. I’m in this relationship with you because I want to be. I do find you incredibly sexy, and you give good head, but I’ll never ever tell anyone about that. Even though the guys tease each other, they know we don’t embarrass the women we like. I’ll be extra vigilant in what I say about you because I know you have to face these men every day in a professional capacity.”