Sports Romance: Feeling The Heat

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Sports Romance: Feeling The Heat Page 2

by Michelle Roberts


  “How are things going Larry?”

  He shrugged. “Same as usual.”

  Kirsten had to suppress a grimace. “Right. Any concerns that you’d like me to note down?”

  “Nope.”

  “Anything you want to chat about? It doesn’t have to be directly related to your injury.” She poised her pen above the paper on her clipboard. “You’d be surprised how often these things correlate.”

  Larry, once again, shrugged.

  “Okay then,” Kirsten said, all out of ideas. “I guess we should get you on the table.”

  The big man stood and walked over to the table, pulling his t-shirt over his head and dropping it onto the chair by the door. He looked exactly like stereotypical “guy your mother warned you about.” His frame was completely wrapped in muscles, and his skin was almost completely covered in tattoos.

  He flopped down onto the table, his legs sticking out off the end. Kirsten quickly took a peek below to see if there was a way to extend it, but seeing nothing decided that she was better off just getting this done with as quickly as possible.

  She approached the hulking man and tentatively reached her hands out. They were miniscule compared to the expanse of his back. How the hell did Katrina do this? She began to prod through the hard muscles, feeling for tension like Katrina had instructed her.

  Larry let out a deep, low growl.

  Kirsten pulled back, startled. “Did I hurt you?”

  He shook his head and she heard a muffled, “No.”

  Well, okay then. Kirsten went back to massaging, working through the various muscle groups and doing her best to press right through to the bone. Larry continued to make noises periodically, but Kirsten more or less ignored them. Why hadn’t Katrina warned her about this part? Between Brad and Larry, her cover was going to end up blown just by her odd reactions to her clients.

  Larry seemed to be enjoying himself (that’s what she chose to take the noises as) so she spent a little extra time on him. Endearing herself to him with a good massage seemed the best way to have him not accuse her of being an imposter. She’d never had anyone do it before, but being a twin she figured it had to happen at some point in her life.

  She stepped back after twenty minutes, instructing him to put his shirt on while she grabbed his file. Katrina had told her that Larry liked to skimp on his exercises, so she made up something about how the ball in his right trap had told her that he was slacking.

  “You really need to do your exercises, Larry,” she said. “I can’t massage out all the damage.”

  He grinned at her. It was the first time he’d smiled the whole time. “Are you sure?” he asked. “That was the best massage of my life.”

  There was nothing creepy about it, oddly enough. He seemed genuinely pleased with his massage. Kirsten felt a spark of pride swell in her chest. Maybe she wasn’t so bad at this in the first place.

  “Thank you, Larry,” she replied. “I’ll be seeing you later in the week. Until then, do your exercises!”

  She waggled a finger at him to get her point across, and he returned the gesture with a goodnatured grin. Then he rose from the chair and hefted out of her office.

  When Larry was gone, Kirsten leaned back into her chair with a sigh. Only two clients, yes, but somehow even that had been the most stressful couple hours of her life. Why did Katrina only have two clients? Hadn’t she gotten some sort of fancy accolade from school when she finished? She must have been doing something right, since her two clients were on the Grey View Vikings, one of the most loved football teams in the country. But then shouldn’t she have had more to show for it?

  Whatever. Wasn’t her life.

  Kirsten packed up her notebooks and threw them into her purse, walking to the door and exiting. The waiting room was empty, save for the receptionist. Kirsten gave her a slight wave as she left, and the girl gave her a puzzled one back. Maybe Katrina didn’t talk much to the receptionist. Maybe, since she shared an office with another physiotherapist, she figured that there wasn’t any reason to get too cozy. That would be like Katrina.

  Kirsten’s drive home was plagued with questions. What could she do to be more like her sister? That should have been easy, since she’d grown up with her and been around her most of her adult life, too. But they had never been able to emulate each other well, like other twins could. They’d never finished the other’s sentences. They’d never shared a common thought. They were about as different as sisters could be, minus the fact that they looked exactly the same.

  Why was Katrina’s job so stagnant? That was an even bigger question. Katrina had always been a go-getter. She poured hours and hours into writing songs for her band, often staying up late into the night to get the melody just right. Kirsten had been stood up for many breakfast dates because Katrina had only made it to sleep before the crack of dawn, and hadn’t been able to wake up at her alarm.

  Another question that popped up: Was Brad Pritchard single?

  Kirsten parked in the underground at Katrina’s apartment. She’d only been living there for a week, but it already felt a little too much like home. Probably because everyone recognized her and waved at her. Katrina always said it was because they thought she was going to be famous one day and wanted to befriend her while they could. Kirsten didn’t understand how everyone in the building could know that Katrina was a hopeful rock star, but she wouldn’t have put it past her to put up something on the noticeboard or yell it out from the rooftop.

  She took the elevator to the third floor, then walked down to the fourth door on the right. Katrina’s apartment was charming and quaint but unbearably cluttered most of the time. She’d never been motivated to take up cleaning like she had songwriting. Kirsten had started tackling the mess a week ago when she moved in, but still hadn’t made it through more than a quarter of the apartment. It didn’t help that Katrina was unwilling to let go of anything, so Kirsten had had to find organized homes for everything. She’d even had to do a bunch of DIY storage hacks she found from Pinterest, and that had taken up a decent amount of her time.

  She was grateful that her sister was letting her stay there though. And the money she was getting at the end of the week would certainly help her get back on her feet and get a new place. She wondered if it was a bad idea to start looking for jobs while she was technically employed for the next week.

  She walked to the kitchen and dropped her keys on the counter. Then her phone rang.

  Kirsten looked at the caller ID and frowned. “Isn’t it late over there?” she answered.

  “Hello to you too, sister,” Katrina said, laughing.

  Kirsten could barely hear her. The background was filled with loud voices and the distant sound of music. “Are you at a show?”

  “Yeah, we’re about to go on. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  Kirsten walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, cradling the phone against her shoulder. “I might have a knack for this,” she said. “Larry told me it was the best massage he’d ever had.”

  Katrina laughed. “He says that every time. He’s just a nice dude.”

  “Whatever you say, sis.” Kirsten unscrewed the water and took a gulp. “What’s the deal with Brad? Do you guys not get along?”

  “Don’t pay any attention to him,” she replied. “He’s just a big meathead who thinks he’s better than everyone.”

  That wasn’t the impression that Kirsten had gotten, but she decided to leave it at that.

  “How are things with you? Are you excited?” she asked.

  Someone let out a loud “Woo!” in the background. “Shit!” Katrina said. “I’ve got to go. Wish me luck!”

  “Good luck Kat!”

  The line went dead, and Kirsten dropped the phone onto the counter, scowling at it. She wished she could be going out and doing exciting things in foreign countries. But she wouldn’t be able to do that for a long time—not with the amount of student debt she’d racked up. As far as she knew, Katri
na still had a hefty portion of hers to pay off, but being a physiotherapist to the stars had its financial perks.

  Being an unemployed nobody, however, did not.

  Chapter Four

  Brad had never cared to learn anything about his physiotherapist. He knew about her academic merits and how she wasn’t too fond of him, but that was about where it ended. After his last encounter with her, however, his curiosity grew. And grew.

  And suddenly Brad was browsing her Facebook, which was not nearly as secure as it should have been. There wasn’t anything outrageous on there. She seemed to keep it professional, and she had modest photos. Nothing to suggest that she was crazy, anyway. He was just about to click off the screen, feeling creepy as hell, when he spied something that caught his notice.

  Someone named Kirsten Keller, the same last name as Katrina, had liked a photo of her. Katrina had never mentioned her family and Brad was curious. If Kirsten was her sister, he doubted she would be as beautiful as Katrina, but maybe she’d be less weird. So he clicked through.

  His first thought was to question why Kirsten had a photo of her sister as her profile picture. He began clicking through them to find one that didn’t include Katrina, but they all did. Then there was a picture that seemed impossible at first. There were two Katrinas. Then he realized what he was seeing.

  Katrina had a twin. An identical twin.

  Brad laughed out loud at that. For whatever reason, Katrina’s twin was filling in for her for the week. Either that, or Katrina was the one doing the work now, and Kirsten had simply been the one to get her this far in life. It made more sense for it to be the former, but he was willing to consider anything at this point.

  He couldn’t wait for his next appointment.

  ***

  Whichever of the sisters was treating him today, she was looking gorgeous. Normally Katrina looked sloppy and tired, but today she looked bright and put together. Her chestnut locks framed her pale, heart shaped face. When she came to get him from the waiting room, Brad let his gaze track down the curves of her tits and waist and back up again.

  Brad swaggered into the room, refusing her offer of a seat. Katrina/Kirsten stared at him with concern on her face.

  “What’s the matter? Does your back hurt too much to sit?”

  He barked out a laugh. If she were really his physiotherapist, she would know that wasn’t a problem for him.

  “I heard Anton called you last week.”

  She looked at him blankly. “Uh, yeah,” she said. “That’s not really the reason we’re here though, is it?”

  Brad already had his answer, but he was feeling mischievous. “I feel like since I gave him your number, it’s fair game.”

  “It’s a patient confidentiality thing, Brad,” she said, sighing. “Can you please sit down?”

  He smirked. “Patient? I thought he was calling to take you out on a date?”

  Her eyes widened. “Uh, yeah. But he also has that knee thing, remember?”

  Brad shook his head slowly. “I’ll give you an A for effort, but a C for creativity.” He slid over to the desk and took a seat. “I’m still trying to figure out whether you’re Katrina or Kirsten.”

  She had the appearance of a deer coming face to face with a wolf. “I’m Katrina, of course.” She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well I know you’re not the same person who was in here last week. But I don’t know how deep this switcheroo goes. My money's on you being Kirsten, though I suppose it wouldn’t be too far fetched to say that you’ve been Kirsten up until now.”

  “I—” She gaped. Hanging her head, she mumbled, “I’m Kirsten.”

  Brad smiled. “There you are.”

  Kirsten looked up at him, her eyes already welling with tears. “God, please don’t rat me out. I swear there’s a good reason for this. Katrina will be back in a few days, she just had to be in London because—”

  “—Someone close to her is dying? She only had one chance to tell the man she loved that she loved him before he married someone else?”

  Kirsten frowned at him. “Because she’s playing a Battle of the Bands that she thinks could be her ticket to the big times.” She huffed a sigh. “Did you think I was going to keep lying? You’ve already caught me out.”

  She stood up and began to pack her things into her purse with shaky hands.

  “What are you doing?” Brad asked.

  “Getting my shit together and going home,” she replied. “What does it look like?”

  Brad stood and placed his hand on top of hers, stopping her movements. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I never said I was going to rat you out.”

  Her hand was warm and small under his. Fragile, almost. They were the same hands that her sister had, but somehow they seemed less...menacing. She looked up at him, her lips pursed together, looking like a goddamn abandoned puppy. How could this girl be so different from her sister? He wanted to pull her into his arms, when normally all he wanted to do was keep Katrina as far away as possible.

  “What do you want?” she asked quietly.

  He pulled his hand back, realizing that she might have taken his gesture the wrong way. “Nothing bad,” he said. “But you can stop giving me massages, first of all.” He cracked a grin, hoping it would make her smile too. “It’s weird now.”

  She smiled and it lit a torch inside of him.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m curious as to why you agreed to do this,” Brad said.

  Kirsten grimaced. “Because I’m a fool. I didn’t realize I’d get caught out so quickly, and she bribed me. I’m kind of low on cash.”

  When Kirsten first realized that Brad knew, she thought he would drag her out of the office on her heels and present her to the receptionist, demanding a refund or something. She hadn’t expected him to smile and ask her how she’d gotten into it. Maybe Brad wasn’t the big grump that Katrina had made him out to be.

  “It’s not very nice of your sister to take advantage of your need.”

  Kirsten cocked her head to the side. “You and her don’t get along,” she said. “Why is that?”

  Brad’s jaw twitched. “Because of shit like this.” He took a seat and Kirsten followed. “She hasn’t done this before, but she’s also never really been present, if you catch my drift.”

  “But I thought she was amazing at this?”

  “She is, I guess.” He shrugged. “She makes the pain go away, but that’s about it. And she certainly doesn’t do anything more than her job description entails.”

  That was such a different side to her sister than Kirsten had ever seen. Although, now that she thought about it, that was the kind of behaviour that was typical of Katrina when she didn’t really care about something. She’d spent all gym class in high school pretending she had menstrual cramps. The fact that it worked all year was a testament to how awkward their male gym teacher was.

  “I never realized that she didn’t like her job.” Kirsten leaned back into her seat, scowling. “I wonder what else she’s been keeping from me.”

  “Maybe nothing,” said Brad. “But it seems that you and I know very different Katrinas.”

  It did seem that way.

  “So what happens now?” Kirsten asked. “I appreciate you not reporting me, but there are only so many things I’ll allow myself to be blackmailed into.”

  Brad laughed heartily. “As fun as I’m sure that would be.” He winked, and it made Kirsten all melty inside. “I was thinking that you could make me dinner.”

  Kirsten’s eyes bugged out of her head. Brad Pritchard wanted her to make him dinner? That was absurd!

  “Come again?”

  “Dinner,” he repeated, making eating movements. “I want you to make it. For me.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest. Somehow, shedding the guise of her sister had made her so much more aware of how unbelievably sexy he was. It was like she had worn her sister’s skin as a shield, and now she felt naked under his atten
tion.

  “I’m not a good cook.”

  Inside, she was screaming at herself. What kind of idiot turns down a dinner invitation from a hot quarterback? Seriously?

  “I’m not a picky eater.”

  His eyes were dark and full of promise. Kirsten bit her lip to stop an appreciative sigh.

  “Okay then,” she said. “As long as you’re okay with missing the rest of the season because of a nasty bout of food poisoning.”

  He grinned. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

  “Should I cancel your next appointment? Katrina will be back for the one after.”

  “God no,” Brad replied. “These are paid for by the team, and Coach will kill me if I don't’ go.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you after the weekend.”

  “You’ll see me tonight, actually. Unless you’ve already forgotten that you’re feeding me.”

  Kirsten’s face was hot. “I didn’t realize you wanted to do it so soon.”

  “I’m a busy man,” he said. “So it’s either tonight or bust.”

  It wasn’t like Kirsten had anything else going on. Her main plan for her Friday evening was to drink a bottle of Katrina’s fancy wine by herself and watch Netflix.

  “Sure.” She pulled her notepad back out of her purse. “Do you have any dietary restrictions or preferences I should make note of?” She positioned her pen on the paper and looked up at him. Brad’s mouth was set it a wide grin.

  “What?” Kirsten asked.

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing. You’re just not at all like your sister.”

  “Tell me about it.” She waggled her pen at him to remind him of her question, but he shook his head.

  “I’ll eat anything and everything you put in front of me.”

  Kirsten dropped the pen and smiled. “Good. I guess that’s us for the day then. I’m staying at Katrina’s place—do you know where that is?”

  Brad shook his head and Kirsten picked up the pen again, writing down the address on the piece of paper and ripping it off to hand it to him.

 

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