"You don't get to the Super Bowl unless you play sixteen season games and the playoffs. You gotta go out there and play without worrying about the losses."
Jason squeezes my shoulder and leaves for the bathroom. He is right. Unless I get out and play, I am not making any headway. Sharon requires astute planning and an out of the box game.
The clock on the wall chimes. It is time for my physio. I wipe the sweat off my body and trudge my way to the bathroom.
After the shower, I finish my breakfast and wait for Betsy to get things ready for the session. When I close my eyes for a moment, the scene at the charity replays again for the hundredth time. Sharon disappeared from the stage, leaving me holding Nate's hand.
I had a hard time explaining things to Nate. Why did she do this? She should have at least considered Nate. Why was she ignoring her feelings for Nate? I had seen her cuddle Nate on the stage.
"It is her birthday today," Betsy says, as she gets my ice pack ready. She makes the statement in a matter-of-fact voice. It has been three weeks since the fiasco at the charity event. Betsy must have seen my facial expressions. I say nothing, swallowing the chasm in my throat.
"I wanted to let you know. If you wish to do something about it." She shrugs her shoulders.
I look away. "What can I do Betsy? She has shut me out. She doesn't return my calls or my messages. I don't think she wants to do anything with me, even though I am desperate to find a way back to her."
"Do you care about her?" Betsy stops the exercises she is doing with my legs.
How do I answer this? I lower my head trying to avoid letting Betsy see my emotions. If only Sharon could see them. She would understand. At least, that is what I hope for. If only I can find a way to get her to give me another chance.
"More than anything in this world. There is not a single day when I don't think about her. I will make it up to her if she lets me inside her world. All I need is one foot inside the door. I am desperate to get her back, Betsy."
"Why?" Betsy stands in front of me. She has a right to question my sincerity.
"I want her to be more than my doctor. I need to make her understand that I am more than a football jock. She won't tell me why she is so upset." I raise my hands in surrender.
"Have you considered that she may be afraid of you or something? Her past, your celebrity status or what it will do to Nate if things don't work out?" Betsy makes her point.
I address Betsy's concerns. "Her past is something I cannot change. It does not influence my feelings for her. My celebrity status is of no consequence in my relationships. For her, I am only Jon and nothing more. Nate is fond of her and I will do anything to make things right for him, make things right for her. If only she will let me."
"I can help you." There is a smile on Betsy's face. She has something up her sleeve.
"Are you asking me or telling me you will help me?" I try to hide my hopes.
"I need a video of you walking on this straight line." Betsy points me to the yellow strip she has marked on the floor. I make my way and walk the line. Try my best not to limp. She shoots the video on her phone.
Once she finishes saving it, I ask Betsy about her plan. "Now what?"
"Leave it to me. But be ready to put on your best charm. You will only get one chance." Betsy puts her phone in her bag and goes about finishing her physio session.
Before she leaves after completing my physio, Betsy warns me. "Jon, if you dare to break her heart, you know who you will have to deal with."
"I will never do that, Betsy. Even the thought of her in pain hurts me." I reassure her from the depths of my heart.
Chapter 27: The Limp Does It
Sharon
"Sharon, I want you to review this." Betsy places her phone in my hand.
I take a glimpse at the screen and push the phone away, "Can you give me one good reason to see this?"
"I can give you many, but at the moment, I will share only two. One, he is saying hello and wants to make up for whatever mistake you are holding against him. Two, he needs your professional help." She thrusts her phone back in front of me.
I play the video. Jon is walking with a limp. What is wrong? I sit up at the sight; the limp disturbs me. "Isn't it a month since we took off the cast? Why isn't he walking straight? Is he in pain?"
"No pain, no tenderness, and no swelling." Betsy negates everything with a straight face, so I know she is speaking the truth. Has he developed contractures or bone shortening? But Tom would have noticed.
Something is amiss here. I question Betsy, prodding her to share what she has in mind. She gives me a background story. "He has been going to the team sessions at the stadium. He doesn't listen. I keep trying to tell him, he needs to rest and not exert himself. He keeps going to practice with the team. He is not taking it slow."
Obstinate Jon at his best. "Have you told him this could ruin any chance for him to get back in the game?"
"You can't imagine how many times. He is stubborn as a mule." The frustration is showing on Betsy's face.
"He always was." I sigh as I close my eyes. Willing myself to be strong. I cannot get involved again.
"Yes, it takes one stubborn ass to recognize another." Betsy scoffs at me.
"What? Is it my fault he doesn't listen to his physiotherapist?" I return the jibe.
Betsy rolls her eyes and then stares at me. She does not answer me, so I force her to come out with whatever's on her mind. "Betsy quit playing around and tell me what you want from me."
"Talk to him. Better still, meet him. Only you can drive any sense into him." Betsy stands in front of me with her arms crossed, a matron demanding my obedience.
I will not give in. If I meet him, it will undo all the effort I've made to distance myself and get him out of my life. I can't deny my feelings for him, but I have programmed myself to ignore them. Shut them away and put a lock on them. To meet him and to be with him, will be a disaster. "I am not sure I want to do this. It is not right, Betsy. Maybe you should speak to his coach or athletic trainer?"
"You are as stubborn as him." Betsy moves her hands to the sides of her hips. A sign she will not budge. "Sharon, you owe it to him. Will you be able to live with the thought you did not make your best effort to help him out?"
"How can you say that? Listen, Betsy, don't you realize where my involvement with him could end up? It will ruin me, both in professional and personal terms."
Betsy walks over to my side of the desk. She puts her hand on my shoulder, "Sharon, the more you deny yourself, the more difficult it will be. He cares about you. He has feelings for you. Look inside your heart and tell me you don't feel the same for him."
Betsy leaves, but her words and Jon's limp keep flashing through my mind the entire morning. I dare not take up her suggestion to peep inside my heart. I know what lies there. Hidden and chained by the dictates of my mind. Can I afford to let it out in the open?
There are times when I wish I was never his doctor. But then, I would've never found him. What should I do now? I cannot ignore his limp. He needs me, and I promised him I would be there till he got back on the field.
I have a headache by lunch. Trust fate to put a spanner in my life. Things had recently become normal. I call up Stephen and set up a meeting at the stadium during one of their practice sessions in the afternoon.
Chapter 28: Back to the Start
Sharon
Stephen guides me to the locker room. The guys are changing. The room is a heavy dose of testosterone. I wonder who is more embarrassed, me or them. I scan the room for Jon. The forearm with the dragon tattoo is hard to miss, attached to a shirtless Jon, the allure is irresistible. My gaze comes to a screeching halt when it reaches his face.
A friskinglicious beard. Why did no one warn me? You bet I am going all Thoraseque here. Yes girl, this man will give Thor a stiff fight even without the hairy outgrowths from his face. But with the beard? Heaven help us all. Nothing compares to him in any alternate universe. At least
not in mine. Shinnety shin, Ms. Geeky Meeky is wobbly.
Hey. I am stiff. Not frigid. Who cares if he calls me a cat because most of the time I want to claw that adorable face and chew it. Oh sorry, I trampolined from Thoresque to the grotesque without considering your sensibilities. Anyway, cats do have girly parts. At least female ones do. This dragon wearing, ball thrower has mine in knots. Forget the claws, my tongue wants to do a lot of things.
Jon clears his throat bringing me out of beard coma. My brain cells scramble to put together a response. They fire Intelligence Correcting Butt-kicking Missiles. Right, I need to keep this professional and rein in the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Shit, coming here was such a bad idea. Now it is a bit too late.
Jon glances at me and then goes back to taking off his shoes. He fiddles and grimaces as he struggles with them, trying to ignore me. I don't have time for his games. "If you are trying to break your leg again, let me tell you, no one can fix it."
He ignores me. I step closer and stand next to him. "Want to learn some better ways to break your leg. If you allow me, I can show you."
He continues playing whatever game he is trying to play with me. I crouch in front of him and take his foot in my hands to examine it. He pulls it away. I grab it again. He moves it out of my reach.
This time, I swat his leg hard. "Will you quit fooling around?" My voice is loud. The room goes silent, all eyes on us. Which reminds me why I need to control myself.
"Behave, Jon. Let me examine your leg." I pull his leg back. My medical training picks up the mild swelling on the foot. A few movements make Jon wince, but when I press, the spot does not hurt him. So no tenderness. I examine his other leg and compare the two for any obvious differences in muscle size and strength. Nothing unexpected or major. Was he overexerting himself, as Betsy suggested? When I raise my head, he is staring at me.
I take a deep breath, this is not the time to give in to his charm. This man is hell-bent on damaging his leg. His doggedness to play despite the discomfort irritates me. "This careless attitude is a surprise for a man who fusses so much about his career. What happened to your dream of coaching kids? How do you propose to do it with a limp? Have you thought about Nate? He has his whole life ahead. Do you want to limp around for the rest of your life and miss all the father-son stuff you can do outdoors? At this rate, Mr. Jonathan Hayes, you won't be able to step out of your house without a crutch."
He continues to stare at me, not uttering a single word. My frustration is rising. My ears are hot. "Go ahead, give me the silent treatment. But from tomorrow, you are reporting to the hospital daily for your physio sessions with Betsy. I had a word with your coach, you are not allowed into the stadium till we clear you."
Without waiting for him to respond, I stand and turn to walk out. Before I reach the door, he blocks my way. I crash against his chest. He breaks his silence "Are my broken bones the only reason for your visit to the dungeon of football? I want more than the 206 chances I am entitled to.”
Tickle me mad. A jock with a math problem. The equation is enticing. We end up having a staring match. I am not one to back away from a fight. "You need to work on your terrible jokes and your math, Mr. Hayes. While you are counting your entitlements, make that 204—the last I read in your medical records, two fractures were fixed by some crazy doctor."
He smirks and reaches out to take my hand. What is he doing? Not again. I need a course correction. If I keep joking with him, he will not take me seriously. Time to sober up. "Jon, if not for yourself, consider your team, your friends and family who value and admire you."
"Where do you include yourself, Doc?" His eyes are search mine. The moment I feared most. I find my resolve melt at his shining blue eyes.
"Jon, let's not start this again." Jason intervenes, trying to broker peace. Jon gives him a stiff arm and waves him off. "Okay, but first, I need to speak to Sharon alone."
This is what I had been dreading when I came here. He pulls me towards one of the side rooms. The moment he lets my hand free, I move to put some distance between us.
A futile attempt, as Jon grabs both my hands and holds them in a gentle grip. Seconds tick away in silence. I count our breaths. The pull is too hard to resist. My feet carry me closer to him. I rest my palm on his bare chest. With every breath, I inhale his scent. The deodorant mixed with sweat is a lust-inducing dizzying fragrance.
His eyes are droopy and breaths shallow. "Sharon, I am sorry about how things ended last time."
I should be the one apologizing for freaking out. "You don't need to apologize," I trace a line along his scruffy jawline.
"Why were you hiding from me? Why did you run?" The disarming smile is back on his face.
Disengage Sharon, my mind reminds me. The reality of what we are about to start scares me into my senses. "Jon, I can't have a relationship with you."
No matter how much I try to explain, Jon does not listen. I am losing myself once again. I take a step back to distance myself.
"You are no longer my doctor. Tom has been supervising my care for three months."
"Yes, but I did operate on you. There are rules against this. You should also think about Nate. What if this does not work? What will we tell Nate? I don't want to be the reason for more pain in his life. We can't hurt him. I won't hurt him."
Jon wraps his finger around a curl hanging on the side of my face. He slides his finger down my hair slowly and then tucks the strand behind my ear. The act is so soft and tender, my heart is a gooey mess. Once the finger is free, he caresses my cheek with his knuckle.
"The reason I want this.” He taps his finger on my chin. “You care about my son more than your own needs. For some reason, you spark things inside me which no woman ever did. A yearning I can't let go of. It's been inside since the first day we met."
His words trigger unease inside my heart. How long will I resist him? I turn away from him. "I can't do this, Jon. We can't do this. We need to keep our distance. I came here because I was worried about your limp."
He turns me to face him. "Sharon, I tried to keep the distance. Believe me, it took all my willpower to stop myself from knocking on your door. Staying away is not helping me and denying us is not helping you. Don't fight this, don't fight us."
"How will this ever work?"
He moves closer to gather me in a hug. I rest my head on his chest. He pulls away to gaze into my eyes. "Give us a chance, Sharon. I admit, even I am unsure about how to go forward with us. I fear I will say or do something stupid that will make me lose you forever. There is this loose connection between my mouth and brain, which short circuits at the most important moments in my life. But if we try, we can make this work for both of us, and Nate."
I stare into his eyes, trying to judge whether I should trust his words because I don't trust my thoughts. "Why should you bother about me?"
"Why shouldn't I? Listen, I have feelings for you. I want to work this out between us," he squeezes me tighter in his arms. His heartbeat vibrates in my ears.
I am still not sure of his intentions. "Why, is what I am asking you. Why do you want to? You can have anyone." There, I said it out in the open. The thing that hurt me the most, seeing him with his publicist. The thing I fear the most. One day, he will move on.
I study his face for clues. His face reflects the hurt. He keeps looking at me for a while, searching for words. "Sharon, I am not involved with anyone. Not in the way I want things with you. I told you. You are the one who made me realize that all those were superficial, temporary relationships. You make me want something more, something deeper."
He lowers his head and kisses me. My entire body is on fire. I want this. I want him. The kiss is like the first time, but more intense. Toe-curling, like the ones in romance novels. He holds me tight. My leg rises, rubbing against his thigh. This is more than a kiss. This is longing. This is a craving. My efforts to keep him away have only fueled the desire in my heart and his touch is setting it on fire. His lips set my mind
afloat in a boat called lust rowed by a pounding heart.
He breaks the kiss and whispers into my ears. "Sharon, let us start again?"
Before my mind talks any sense, my heart tugs the strings to my neck and makes me nod. His face lights up, and the grin on his face tells me that his devious mind is up to something. "Make no mistake, Mr. Hayes. You get only one chance, so better not screw this up." Not the most appropriate words, but then, when does my mind ever have any appropriate thoughts when Jon is around?
Jon does not miss the chance. "Oh babe, if things play out well, there will be lots of screwing around." Jon squeezes my ass.
"Remind me to prescribe a mouthwash for your dirty mouth." While his hand is resting on my butt, I should get one for fluids to rinse my dirty mind. I shove him away.
"Jon, you need to behave when people are around. No innuendos please, and no flirting."
"I am a saint." Jon holds his hands to his chest.
"Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Hayes."
"Ouch Tigress, stop clawing at my ego. You burst my favorite balloon." Jon lets out a fake wince as he rubs his chest. "Stop reading gossip columns and stick to your medical books."
My silence sobers Jon. He regards his shoes for a few seconds and then faces me, "What if we take it slow?"
The pleading eyes and pout break my resistance. "Okay, but real slow."
There is silence again, but the dynamic between us changes with excitement and promise. His concept of taking it slow lasts a mere few seconds.
"Tigress, before we begin is there any competition I should know about?"
I am confused. "What do you mean?"
He winks, pouts his lips and plants air kisses around my face. Then he starts patting me. I match his hand movements with my chops and evade most of his touches. "Doc, your kung-fu moves are getting stale. You need to practice with someone."
All the lines to cross Page 11