Touch

by Kris Bryant

  “A few people were going to mail in donations, but yes, we did very well. Twelve thousand more than last year at last count.”

  That floors me. “That’s awesome. Truly.” Our donations last year allowed several children to have their dreams come true. That’s one of the things I love about Elite. Our involvement in the community. Now that I have a lot more time on my hands, I’ll be able to participate in all of our fund-raising projects. We have one every quarter, but this one is the most successful.

  “Okay, get back to work. I just wanted to tell you the news.”

  I leave her office still angry at Stone, but mostly angry at myself. If I hadn’t allowed my emotions to get the best of me, Stone would still be in therapy healing instead of out there pushing her limits.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What are you doing here?” Stone slowly skates over to me, her grace and confidence evident as she glides across the ice. She pushes a puck ahead of her; her control of it is truly amazing.

  “I want to know why you discharged yourself from Elite. You’re not ready for this yet, Stone.” She skates along the edge of the rink, back in forth in front of me. I reach out and touch her forearm. She instantly stops.

  “I think I’m ready,” she says.

  “It’s good that you are on the ice practicing, but have you talked to Gloria about what your limits should be? Are you elevating and icing your ankle down after you skate?” Judging by the fact that she can’t hold eye contact with me, I’m going to assume that’s a no. “You shouldn’t push yourself. I want you to heal as fast and completely as you do. You only have a week and a half left of therapy.”

  “I’ve got this. I’ve learned a lot. You told me to trust you, now I’m asking you to trust me.”

  “That’s not fair. I’ve been keeping tabs on you. Gloria and I’ve talked about you and your progress. Even though she’s extremely pleased with how far you’ve come, you still aren’t one hundred percent.”

  “I’m not your responsibility anymore, Doc. You don’t need to worry about me.” I flinch and my anger is quick to surface.

  “I do worry about you. You know I’m going through a lot emotionally. It wasn’t my intent to turn you back over to Gloria, but my life kind of got in the way of this. I had to do what was right. That doesn’t mean I suddenly don’t care about you.” I can feel my stomach starting to tremble. I know we are about to cross another line here.

  “Are you this upset that I kissed you?” Her eyes are so sincere and vulnerable it’s hard not to lean forward just to get closer to her.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I know that we shouldn’t have done it,” I say.

  “It shouldn’t be because I kissed you. Gloria was my therapist then. I know the rules.” That makes me kind of smile. Stone sees the crack in my demeanor. She leans over the railing so that her face is only about a foot away from mine. “How about this. Agree to go on a date with me and I will agree to finish PT somewhere else.” She is confident, in control, and so goddamn attractive that it’s hard to say no. Logically, I’m not ready for a date, especially not one with Stone, my former patient. But my head can’t ignore my physical reaction to her. My heart is pounding. I can hear it beating in my ears and I feel excitement course through me. The familiar throb of want resonates in my blood. I want her to kiss me again, even though I know how wrong it is. I want her to touch me.

  “We can’t.” I feel the rush of hope leave my body and the heaviness of telling Stone no take its place.

  “Yes, we can.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to date just yet. I just broke up with my fiancée. I’m still working through a lot. I need time.” She reaches out and cups my chin, pushing my face up to meet hers.

  “Yes, we can.” I pull out of her grip, gently, but firmly. “Come on, Hayley. Just dinner. Just say yes.” I can’t say no to her so I stand there without saying anything. “Let’s just see where this goes. This weekend I’m traveling with the team for an exhibition game. I’ll pick you up Sunday night. You have my number. Call me or text me directions to your new place.” She glides away from me to the other end of the rink and disappears into the locker room. I can’t do it. I feel like Stone is my rebound girl, even though I’m the one who ended things with Alison. I circle around the ice and follow her into the locker room. It’s quiet, but I can hear somebody rustling around.

  “Stone? Are you in here?” I peek around the corner and follow the sounds to the end of the concrete room. I hear Stone humming and I find her standing in boy shorts and sports bra, her hockey gear already discarded on the bench in front of her. She turns to me, her body slick with sweat. I can’t help but stare at her. She is chiseled and my body explodes with desire. I’ve seen her in less before. Maybe it’s the fact that this is her territory and a different kind of sweat. By the time my eyes travel all the way up her body to meet her gaze, a wolfish grin is on her face. Oh, fuck. I’m in trouble and we both know it. I swallow. Hard. Twice.

  “Hayley.” She drops the towel she is holding and we both watch as it slides off of the bench and onto the floor. She takes a few steps toward me. I vow to stay strong. I exhale deeply and look up at her.

  “I just came in here to tell you that I appreciate the offer, but I can’t go out with you.” I watch as she spreads her legs to straddle the bench. Those shorts leave nothing to the imagination and I can’t take my eyes off of her. She leans down to take the wrap off of her leg, but says nothing to me. “I’m serious, Stone. I really can’t.” The doctor in me kicks in when I see her ankle. The redness and swelling is normal after her kind of injury, but I can tell that she pushed herself out there on the ice. “You need to elevate your leg and put ice on your ankle.” I sit in front of her and tap my thighs for her to put her foot up on my lap.

  I can’t look at her because if I turn to face her, I will stare at the apex of her thighs and think about making her feel better another way. She knows she’s attractive. She knows I’m nervous around her. She moans as I massage the tissue around her ankle, and my body heats up several degrees. She isn’t making this easy for me. At Elite, she was very good at keeping her moans to a minimum. Today, every touch I administer brings out a little sound that is erotic. I can feel a trickle of sweat slide down the small of my back. I won’t be able to do this much longer. I quickly glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her mouth is slightly open, her eyes shut, and she licks her lips after every soft moan.

  I move my hands up higher on her leg to work on the muscles, pleased at how toned she is even after the break. She scoots closer to me on the bench. She is already in my personal space, yet I want her closer. I hear my breathing hitch knowing that my hands are so close to her thighs. Her body is so warm. I don’t even mind her sweat. Her thighs roll open as she relaxes and she quietly drops her other foot to the floor. I grit my teeth and keep my eyes on her leg. My peripheral vision picks up the juncture of her thighs and for the briefest moment, I picture myself leaning forward and pressing my hand into her warm mound.

  “You need…” My voice breaks and I stop talking. I clear my throat and start over. “You need to ice this. Do you have a machine around here? I’ll get you some.” I’ve never understood the definition of bedroom eyes before this moment, but the look she gives me is raw with need and I quickly stand, holding her ankle and gently placing it on the bench. I watch as she closes her eyes and leans all the way back. She takes three deep breaths before answering me.

  “Over there. Near the office there is a station.” She points somewhere to my left. I nod like I know where and quickly move away from her, putting much needed space between us. What the fuck am I doing? I find an ice bag and fill it, taking a moment to allow the cold of the ice machine to cool me off. If this doesn’t work, I can go out on the rink, strip down, and hope a giant block of ice will do the trick instead. I steady myself and head back to the bench. Stone is sitting up now, the magic of the moment gone.

  “Thanks, Doc.” She takes the bag from
me and puts it on her ankle.

  I hate it when she uses that tone. I know that means all her walls are in place and she’s back to being guarded. I should be happy and thankful that our heavily sexual moment is over, but I frown at the loss of it. What would have happened if I allowed my hands to wander up her thigh? I think, no, I know she would have let me slip inside of her. She spread her legs for me. That was my invitation and I walked away from it.

  “Here. Put your ankle on this.” I roll two towels to get her leg high enough to be effective. “Lie back. Is the bench too hard? Is there a mat or something softer?” Her incision is now an angry pink and her leg is chaffed. Her skate was rubbing against the tender, healing skin. “If you are going to be stupid and push yourself on the ice this hard, you need to protect this. Add padding or a gel insert inside your skate to protect your ankle and leg.”

  “I’m tough. It doesn’t even hurt.” She leans back on the hard bench and closes her eyes.

  I take an extra second to look at her again. She is perfect. Hard and soft with all the right curves. She crosses her arms over her chest. Her nipples press tightly against her white sports bra, their dusky darkness visible underneath the spandex. I bite my lip in frustration. I’m trying to do the right thing here. I lean against the locker and take a deep breath to steady myself.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. Stone nods at me. Her eyes are still closed. “None of this makes sense to me. Please understand where I’m coming from. I think you’re a wonderful woman. And if our circumstances were different, then maybe we could pursue something here.”

  “It’s okay, Hayley. I understand. I’m not your type.” She sits up and readjusts her ice pack.

  I should walk away. Right now. I should turn around and pretend the last fifteen minutes didn’t happen. Then I could go home, take a hot bath, touch myself, and maybe even cry myself to sleep. Yes, I should leave right now. Instead, I turn to face her. “That’s not true. I feel like I wouldn’t give this relationship a chance if we tried it now. You need to focus on you and getting strong again because your season starts soon, and I need to focus on myself and figuring out how to be single again.” She looks at me and I almost gasp. Her hard stare is a mixture of anger and passion and power. I press harder against the locker.

  “You won’t even give us a chance?” Her voice is low and I almost miss what she says.

  She stands up until she towers over me. Her breathing is short and raspy. Her body is entirely too close to mine. I look down because if I look up, we will kiss again. I press my palms flat against the metal locker behind me and close my eyes so that I’m not tempted by her perfection. Her sweat smells clean and I want to run my hands over her hard abs and kiss the valley between her breasts. I want to nuzzle the side of her neck and lick the wetness from the soft space behind her ear. My attraction to her is out of control. She touches me first. I press her hand against me to still her movements. I don’t know if I stop her because I’m afraid of what will happen, or if I need to feel her touch against me.

  “Come on. Tell me you don’t want this,” Stone says. I loosen my grip on her hand, but I don’t brush it away. I want her to touch me. She doesn’t hesitate. I feel her hand slide down from my waist and circle around to press against the small of my back. “Look at me.”

  I take a deep breath and look up at her. Her eyes move back and forth from my eyes to my lips. I lick my lips in anticipation, a signal to her that it’s okay. She leans down and captures my mouth in a heated kiss. I submit. She pulls me flush against her so that every part of my body is against hers. I don’t care that she’s sweaty. I don’t care that just a few minutes ago, I told her this couldn’t happen. I slide my hands up her neck and dig my fingers into her hair. I can’t get enough of her. I feel her moan against me, the vibration humming throughout her entire body. I know this is a mistake. Nothing good will come from this. Her hands move from my waist down to the sides of my thighs. Her fingertips dig into me as she slowly pulls up my skirt. I resist helping her because I don’t want to stop touching her. Encouraged, she slides both hands underneath my skirt until she reaches my panties. I whimper when she doesn’t hesitate, and moan when she pulls them down. This is happening fast and I don’t care. I haven’t felt passion like this ever. Her hands are warm and strong against my thighs. I open my eyes when she stills her movements. I move my hands from the back of her neck to cup her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She leans forwards and kisses me softly. “I hear something.” We stay frozen like that for a few seconds until I hear the noise, too. Fuck. Somebody is in the locker room with us. Stone breaks away from me quickly. I push my skirt back down with a mixture of fear and humiliation. She sits on the floor next to her towel and bag of ice and acts normal. I’m trying to catch my breath and slow my racing heart. I take a step away just as three of her teammates round the corner.

  “Hey, Stone. What’s going on?” Kensie asks. All three look at me, then her, then me again.

  “You know, ice. Broken leg. The usual,” she says. She stays on the floor and grabs the ice bag from the bench, settling in as if she meant to be down there on purpose. I’m impressed that she can sound so cavalier after what just happened, but kind of hurt, too. Like that didn’t matter to her.

  “You need to keep your ankle elevated and on ice tonight. Okay?” I say. I walk past the girls and nod to them. “Go to PT Monday.” My adrenaline is keeping me upright and steady. I walk out of the locker room and pick up speed when I’m out of everyone’s sight.

  What did I just do? Guilt rushes over me, flooding me with shame. I’ve been single less than a month. I feel so horrible. That should have never happened. I should have never touched her. I should have never let her touch me. Her hands and mouth were so warm, and welcoming, and fierce. She consumed me. It was everything I needed and wanted, but just not right now. I start the car and carefully pull out of the parking lot. I’m halfway down the street when the worst possible question pops into my mind. Where the fuck are my panties?

  Chapter Seventeen

  I should get a pet. I’m seriously thinking about having one for the first time in my life. A cat. One of those fat, fluffy balls of fur that likes to sleep all of the time. My rental house is too big for one person and I want companionship. Not anything complex like a fiancée or a hockey player, but a tiny appreciative animal who only wants attention some of the time, and loves me for simple things like food, water, and a comfortable bed.

  I’m doing that thing again where I don’t sleep. In my mind, it’s probably because I have a new bed and new mattress and I’m just trying to get used to it. In reality, I can’t stop thinking about Stone and what happened Friday night. What is it about us and Friday nights? The week before, she kissed me, then last Friday, she did other incredible things to me. I want her to call me because I crave her, but I don’t want her to call me because we shouldn’t start anything. I should chalk it up to lust, but I can’t stop thinking about her. A psychiatrist would have a field day with me right now. One minute I’m hot about her, the next cold.

  Even though I’m the one who broke it off with Alison, my guilt is eating me up. Did I do the right thing by walking away from our relationship? Did I just get cold feet? That happens to a lot of people right before they get married. I sigh and make myself get out of bed. Sundays are for complete relaxation, but today, I have to unpack some boxes. Alison told me to take what I wanted, but I really don’t want anything. I just want to start over. I want myself back. I got lost in Alison’s shadow. My parents have just started to talk to me without bringing her up every few minutes. As upset as I am about our breakup, I feel like it hurt them more. That makes me feel even worse.

  I head to the kitchen to make coffee. The living room is a disaster. Last night was a movie marathon of action films to keep my mind off the Gray Wolves’ locker room and everything that happened there. It was also a night of binge eating so takeout cartons and junk food wrappers are strewn everywhere. My
affair with food hit an all-time low. I gather up the evidence, toss it in the trash, and pretend all of the processed junk isn’t sitting like a rock in my stomach. I shake my head at my own weaknesses. First Stone, then carbs.

  I use my excess energy and break down boxes that I’ve stacked in the garage. Alison called last night. We were able to have a civilized conversation for about five minutes. I ended it before it got awkward or ugly. She still has a lot of anger toward me. I didn’t want to tell her where I’m living because I need peace and I don’t need her to stalk me there. She was pretty upset. She’s tenacious when she doesn’t get her way. Some of her TFFs have even tried calling me. I feel like a jerk for not taking their calls, but they aren’t my friends and never tried to get to know me before the breakup.

  My phone rings again. I’m almost afraid to answer it until I see that it’s Rachel. “Hey, how are you?”

  “Just checking in with you. How are you holding up?” I told Rachel about the breakup days after it happened. She’s been very supportive. I feel like she and Gloria are my true friends.

  “Okay. Just getting the house in order. It’s still bare even though I just bought a shit ton of furniture and stuff.” I look around and notice I don’t have any artwork or anything on the walls. “I need art.”

  “Oh, you should come back to New York and we can shop at some of the galleries.” There’s excitement in her voice.

  “I just spent a fortune on stuff I don’t even know if I like yet. I’m going to have to cut back on my spending for a bit. But I would love to go back to the city. Maybe a Christmas trip,” I say.

  “Well, if you need a friend, I’m available any weekend.”

  I smile. I’m so happy I met Rachel. She’s lighthearted and fun. “Thank you. I just might need one here soon. Let me get this place set up and then you can come for a visit. I have to warn you, though. My neighborhood is pretty boring. There isn’t a lot to do around here.”