Touch

by Kris Bryant

  “What did you do today? How do you stay busy?” I’m genuinely interested in what she does. How does a person go from full steam to twenty percent?

  “I skated for a bit, had PT, and then I worked with the coach on some plays that might work for the team. I’ve had a lot of time to study old games, different teams, try to come up with something that works with our strengths and weaknesses. She seems very interested in my ideas. That makes me feel good.” She takes a bite of the chicken and moans. “This is spectacular, Hayley. I love it.” She takes a bite of the rice pilaf and moans again. “This is my new favorite meal. Please tell me there is apple pie for dessert.”

  Shit. I forgot dessert. I shake my head. “Sadly, no. I ran out of time. Can we just pretend the pie I baked for you last time counts as dessert tonight?”

  “I think that’s more than fair. I’m not complaining. Really. That just means I can have seconds.”

  “Well, thank you for enjoying it. I have to say, it’s hard to cook for one person. It’s just easier to go out.”

  “This is why I live downtown. More bars than restaurants, but when I bought my place, I was twenty-five and alcohol was more important than food,” she says.

  “I somehow doubt that you partied that much.” She raises her eyebrow at me. “Or maybe you did. It’s nice to see you’ve grown out of that.”

  “I’ll have an occasional glass of wine or a beer with the girls. We’re all getting tired of that scene.”

  “It has to be flattering to some extent.”

  Stone shrugs. “It was at the beginning. Now I’m old and the younger and faster girls are getting all of the attention. Trust me, which I’m fine with. It’s like I said before, I’m done with that. It would be nice to have something real for a change.”

  “Stop right there. If you’re old, I’m ancient. Remember, I’m three years older than you are.”

  She laughs. “My body is twice your age. I’ll be in a wheelchair by the time I’m fifty. I’ve had a ton of surgeries, my leg and ankle will always hurt now. I’ve broken fingers, ribs, and even my tailbone. Do you know how painful it is to break your tailbone? I was way more miserable than I am now. Of course, I was fourteen, but still. It was hard.”

  I cringe. That’s a bad injury at any age. “I can definitely tell I’m thirty-one. I ache all over some days. I can’t even imagine what my sixties will be like,” I say.

  We spend the next fifteen minutes comparing injuries. Stone wins, of course, but I’ve had a few injuries that are strong competitors. I was in a motorcycle accident and broke my wrist when I was in college. Okay, it wasn’t a motorcycle, but a Vespa, and I was going fast. I also busted a few ribs when I slipped off of a diving board and hit the side of the pool. That injury still makes me shake my head in disbelief. My poor mother thought I was dying. I couldn’t breathe right for a month.

  “So what made you get into PT?” Stone asks. We are officially done with dinner and I motion for her to follow me into the living room. She fills up our wine glasses and we head to the couch to get more comfortable. She sits on one end and I sit on the other, but put my legs up on the couch, curled up underneath me. There’s enough safe space between us, but we’re still close.

  “I’ve always wanted to help people. I knew I would go into the medical field, I just didn’t know where. Physical therapy is about healing and being on the journey with your patients. Sounds corny, I know.” It’s the only way I can explain it.

  “No, I completely understand. Plus, you get to build up such a great relationship with so many different people,” Stone says.

  “So tell me why you love hockey so much.”

  She leans back and sighs. “There’s no greater feeling than flying around on the ice. It’s about calculations and trying to guess what your opponent is going to do before she does it. It’s about control and timing and knowing when to strike and when to settle down. I’m sure once I retire, I will end up as a coach somewhere.”

  “What is your degree in?” Most athletes go for a business degree. It’s general enough. Almost every single college athlete I worked with was in the business field.

  “Communications. The plan was that if and when hockey was no longer an option, I would get into journalism,” she says.

  “You’re very good in front of the camera. Charming and self-assured.” I realize that I’ve just confessed to stalking her online.

  “Interesting that you know this.” A cocky smile slips into place.

  I shake my head at her. “I already told you that I Googled you after our first session. Your interviews were very good. The camera likes you and so do the reporters.” I roll my eyes dramatically at her.

  She laughs. “Stop it. I can’t help it that I’m charming.”

  “This is true. You’re very charming. Whatever you do outside of hockey, you will be successful at. I don’t think you have to worry about a career. Jobs will come to you once you retire,” I say.

  “At twenty-eight, I’m one of the old ones on the team. Sad, huh? Then I had to go and get in a car wreck and blow my chances at two more years on the ice. I’ll get this season in if I’m lucky.” She looks sad.

  I lean over and touch her hand. “You’re doing so well. I know the regular season is just around the corner. You won’t miss a lot. I promise you. You might not be one hundred percent at the start of the season, but by the playoffs, you will be. You need to give yourself time.”

  She threads her fingers with mine. “Well, I’m officially done with PT so now I just need to get comfortable on the ice again.” She releases my hand. I miss her warmth already.

  “Try not to pick up bad habits when you skate. You have to trust your bones and your muscles to work the way they’re supposed to. Don’t skate a different way because you’re afraid you will reinjure your leg. Most athletes reinjure because they are trying to do the same thing a different way. Does that make sense?” Stone looks at me. Her blue eyes are so hopeful and trusting. I understand why women fall all over her.

  “Do you want to come watch me tomorrow morning? I usually get to the rink by seven. Your first patient is when? Nine?”

  I nod. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “I trust you the most.” I take a sip of wine to steady myself. Having Stone in my living room looking sexy and hungry is a dangerous thing. I get up to expel the excess energy that has been gathering in my stomach since she reached for my hand.

  If I’m being completely honest, I want her to fuck me right here on the couch. I want to know what it’s like to be completely consumed by another person. To let myself go and trust her as much as she trusts me. I head to the kitchen for a glass of water and ask her if she wants one, too. She’s standing right behind me. I jump.

  “You’re getting good at sneaking up on me. I would’ve brought you a glass. You didn’t need to get up.” I’m blabbering because Stone is in my personal space. She’s so close to me and so serious. I know what’s going to happen.

  She runs her fingertips down my cheek and across my lips. Very slowly, very carefully, she kisses me. She’s so gentle, I want to cry. I reach out to her and pull her close to me. I’m the one who deepens the kiss. She lifts me up on the counter and nudges my legs apart. I tell myself to slow down, but I don’t want this to end. I move my hands up to cup her face and hold the back of her neck. I spread my legs further apart and push into her, moaning at our contact. Her hands find my waist and she holds me against her, pushing back into me. Our chemistry is undeniable. Just when I think we are going to fuck right here in my kitchen, she breaks our kiss and takes a small step back from me.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her eyes are bright, her cheeks red, and her lips already swollen. She’s beautiful and perfect. We’re both breathing hard. I lean forward and kiss her again. She stops us again.

  “Why are you stopping?” I can only imagine what this woman is capable of and I want her to do it again and again to me.

  “It’s getting l
ate and I made a promise to you. To us.”

  I run my fingertips over her face. She grabs them and holds them against her lips. She takes a step back and helps me off of the counter. My legs are shaky. She holds my hand and walks us to the door.

  “Wait. You need your jacket.” I get her jacket from the hall closet and hand it to her. I know that if I asked, she would stay. I also know she wants to try having a real relationship and take it slow, regardless of our short history. She pulls me to her and places a soft kiss on my mouth. She pulls away when it starts getting passionate. I’m frustrated, but I understand.

  “Hayley.” I look up at her. She sighs and leans her forehead against mine. “I can’t wait to taste you.” She turns and walks out the door, leaving us both breathless. I smile because I know that when we do have sex, it’s going to be so worth the wait.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I had a hard time falling asleep last night. My body was on fire. I took a bath and touched myself several times, but every orgasm just made me want another and another. By the time I crawled into bed, I was frustrated and exhausted, but my mind kept me awake. I thought about the whole night and our conversation. When she sat me on the kitchen counter, I thought for sure we were going to have sex right there. I’d bet my life that our next date will be explosive.

  I pour coffee into a travel mug and check the time. It’s only six thirty. I feel like I’ve been up all night. I’m glad it’s Friday and tonight I can go to sleep right when I get home. I don’t want to leave right now because I will get to the rink too early and it will make me seem entirely too eager. It’s bad enough I threw myself at Stone last night. I’m so embarrassed. Again. With fifteen minutes left to kill, I pull up a video of her in a game just so I can quickly study her moves on the ice. When the video ends, I grab my bag and head out, excited and nervous to see her again.

  There are three cars in the parking lot. I recognize Stone’s right away and expel a sigh of relief that I don’t have to wait for her. I grab my jacket and head inside. The doors are unlocked and I slip in, wanting to watch Stone before she knows I’m here. She is skating slowly, her stance wide. She is testing her strength. She slows down and adjusts her skates. Enough time has passed since her surgery, but she’s nervous about it and I’m not about to stop her from being careful. She grabs her stick and tosses a puck on the ice. Again, I’m impressed with her control of it. She isn’t skating fast, just working on quick motions. She stops when she sees me and immediately skates over.

  “Hi. Good morning.” She leans over the railing and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. It makes me smile. I wasn’t expecting that.

  “How are you?”

  “Tired, but good. How long have you been here?”

  I reach out and straighten her collar for no other reason than to touch her. “Not long. A few minutes only. How does your ankle feel?” She smells sweet and spicy, a scent I’ve come to know as her.

  “It doesn’t feel too tight. I stretched for about thirty minutes this morning. I think I’m good. I’m ready to see what I can do,” she says.

  “Show me,” I say. She skates off, slowly at first. I watch her lean to the left to test her weight and do the same for the right. She skates the length of the rink, jumping a few times, testing her ankle strength. I cringe every time. I know she needs to do this, but I don’t want her to get hurt again. It sure is different when you’re watching someone you care for more than just as a patient. When she reaches the far end, she turns and skates very fast back over to me. I actually gasp. She stops sharply right before the railing, tiny bits of ice spraying up in the air. I make myself slip into doctor mode. “How did that feel?”

  She nods. “Not bad actually. My leg feels tight, but my ankle feels good. Of course, I’ve only been skating for thirty minutes or so and not very fast. I know I’m a week or two out from getting playing time.”

  “Are you okay with that?” I ask. There’s only one more weekend of exhibition games and then the real season starts a week from tomorrow.

  “You told me I’d be ready for the first game. I’m ready. Maybe not as a starter, but I could get away with a few minutes here and there.” She smiles wide and, for the first time, I see a tiny dimple in her left cheek.

  “So you feel like you’re ready for this?”

  She moves closer to me. “Definitely, Doc.” My heart speeds up the closer her lips get to mine. “Thank you for dinner last night.” I shiver remembering the last thing she said to me before she walked out of the door. It’s incredible how well our lips fit together and how quickly our passion ignites.

  “It was entirely my pleasure,” I say, flirtatiously.

  She takes a deep breath and pushes back from the railing. “I’m going to skate away right now because you, Dr. Hayley Sims, are dangerous.”

  That surprises me. She should know that she’s the dangerous one. I shake my head at her. “Not even true. Go skate anyway. I want to watch you a little bit longer.”

  She flips into hockey player again and I spend the next thirty minutes watching her skate on one leg, then the other. She adjusts her skate several times so I know there is still some discomfort. As beautiful as she is on the ice, I’m more impressed with her ability to dribble the puck. Her gloves look so incredibly awkward and big, but she’s so gentle with the stick. The puck is a blur every time she shoots it. The more I watch, the more excited I am to see her play in a game. Funny that I never thought of hockey before Stone. It just seems so violent. I’m sure I’ll be cringing the first game I see, especially if she gets checked. I don’t even watch football because there is entirely too much contact. As a physical therapist, I’m focusing more on the possible injuries than the game. I’ve stopped watching all sports.

  “Elizabeth, I have to go to work now.” I raise my voice so she can hear me. She heads over to me, her blue eyes shining. It’s nice to see her in her element and genuinely happy.

  “I’m sorry. There’s no Elizabeth here.”

  “Elizabeth.” I take a step back from the railing. “You’re doing well on the ice. I’m proud of how far you’ve come.” She skates to a hidden door. I squeal when I realize she is too quick for me and I’m trapped. She slowly takes off her gloves.

  “No Elizabeth here.” On skates, Stone is very intimidating. And very tall. I know the worst that will happen here is that she’ll kiss me senseless.

  “I like Elizabeth. It’s a pretty name,” I say, trying to somehow redeem myself. She towers over me. She’s so close that I have no choice but to reach out to her. She captures my hands and puts them around her waist.

  “I tell you what. You can call me Elizabeth, but only in private. Deal?” She leans down and kisses me before I have a chance to answer. It’s the kind of kiss that makes me clutch her tighter. When we break apart, I’m breathing hard.

  “Deal.” I say. We both smile. “Don’t overdo it.” I look around to make sure nobody is around even though I know we are alone. “Elizabeth.” She pokes my side and I bust out laughing. “Okay, okay. Only in the privacy of us.” She kisses me again.

  “Have a good day. I’ll call you later.” She winks at me and heads back to the ice. This Stone I can get used to. I tell myself to calm down and try to not act like a teenager with a crush.

  * * *

  You want to come to the season opener as my guest?

  I love that she only texts me during my lunch. It’s so considerate.

  I would love to. Thank you.

  The season opener against the Boston Pucks happens to be the date I was going to marry Alison. I have mixed feelings about that day. I’m disappointed in myself for not caring more about our breakup. I’m not heartless, I’m just sure that I did the right thing. Jumping into something right away with Stone wasn’t smart, but it feels good.

  I still don’t know a thing about hockey though. What if I’m bored?

  She’s quick to respond. You won’t be bored, I promise.

  That makes me smile. I know that i
t will be exciting and I’ll catch on, but I’m also going to be a nervous wreck. Hopefully, she and her coach know her limits. I know Stone has a lot to prove out on the ice, but I’m confident she will be smart about it.

  If I am, you have to make it up to me. Saturday nights are too valuable to just throw away on watching women chasing after a ball or whatever it’s called. There are so many good books to read. I’m falling behind in my book club.

  I laugh because she knows I know it’s a puck. I smile and wait for her response.

  “Look at you all happy and shit.” Gloria walks into my office and stares at me. “What’s going on?”

  I scramble around in my brain and try to come up with something, anything. “One of my friends just was razzing me about something.” All truths. Stone is a friend and she was just giving me a hard time. “What’s going on?” Deflect, deflect.

  “Just checking in with you. You seem well and that makes me happy.” She sits in one of my chairs. I offer her coffee because that’s our thing, but she declines.

  A thought pops in my head that chills me. What if she knows about me and Stone? Not that I think we’ve done anything wrong, but I know I should tell Gloria. She needs to hear it from me. I owe that to her. Just not today. What if Stone told her parents and her parents told Gloria? I test the waters carefully. “I’m good. I’m tired today, but happy it’s almost the weekend. What are your plans?”

  “Political Pete has a dinner tonight that I’ll attend.” I love that even though she makes fun of her husband’s political career, she really is proud of him. “I’m envious of you. I just want to go home, take a long bath, read a book, and go to bed early. Oh, how’s the house? Have you made peace with it?” she asks.

  “It’s good. Thanks again for recommending it to me. I needed something quick and it’s perfect. By spring, I’ll have a better idea of where I want to live. The suburbs are hard if you’re single.”