3. Emily
I’m grateful to have something to do with my hands as I work through the tender areas of Alexei’s muscles. My face stings from having vigorously scrubbed Audrey’s masterpiece off my face. That’s what I’m telling myself, but my heart knows the truth.
I have never felt more ashamed or humiliated in my life. I screamed at someone in the parking lot of my work and that someone turned out to be my patient. He wasn’t just any patient, either. He was the one I’d foolishly pinned all my dreams of professional success and growth on. Did I recover gracefully? Of course not. I practically told him he was a nobody by admitting that not only did I not know who he was right away, but also that I didn’t care about his career. Why hadn’t I just lied and said I was an avid hockey fan who watched every game?
That would have been enough of a disaster, but did I stop there? No. I couldn’t even manage to conduct myself professionally through the appointment. I had been utterly charmed by his looks and sharp wit. Instead of shutting him down regardless of how I felt and being his physical therapist and nothing more, I’d flirted with him. If anyone else had been in the treatment area and seen how I was behaving, I would have gotten a formal writeup at minimum. He’s got to be thinking I’m some sort of vapid bimbo. If he ever comes back here for treatment, it will be a miracle.
When would I learn that athletes spell nothing but trouble for me? Wasn’t the last time enough?
A tear escapes from my eye and drops onto Alexei’s back.
I freeze.
I’m too anxious to even breathe.
“Tell me about her,” Alexei demands.
“Audrey?” I ask, surprised.
“I’m sure you have some stories. She certainly seems like the creative type.”
I’m not sure if the sound that comes out of my mouth is a laugh or a sob, but just thinking of my little girl is enough to ground me. Alexei doesn’t seem like the type to laugh often, but I do get a brief chuckle or two out of him when I tell him about all the creative ways she tries to avoid bedtime. It’s so easy to talk to him that I end up sharing more than I usually do. I tell him about the struggles of single parenthood, how hard it is to balance motherhood and ambition, and my dreams of opening my own practice one day so I can have even more time to spend with Audrey.
“Is her father not in the picture?” Alexei asks.
I feel myself stiffen.
“No,” I say curtly. “He doesn’t even know about her, and I’m not sure he’d care if he did.”
He props himself up on an elbow and turns slightly so he can meet my eyes.
“I apologize for prying. That was a rude question,” he says sincerely.
“It’s one I’m used to,” I say. “No harm done.”
I smile to let him know I’m not angry and then gently push him back down onto the table.
“I’ve got one more area to work on before it’s time for ice. Do you have any questions or are there areas of your back that I’ve been too firm or too gentle with?”
By the set of his shoulders, I can tell he’s working up to asking me something.
“I do have one question,” Alexei finally admits. “In the parking lot…”
“I’m so sorry,” I interrupt. “I don’t normally behave like that. I have to apologize for my lack of professionalism today. Please don’t hold it against Jenna or the hospital.”
“Let me finish,” he commands.
Something in his tone makes me comply immediately. It makes me wonder how it would feel to have him order me about in the bedroom.
We just talked about this, Emily. Stop it.
“You said I could see my own ileum. What the hell is that?” he asks.
I laugh nervously. “It’s the last part of the small intestine. It connects to the large intestine.”
“I see where Audrey gets her creativity from,” he says dryly.
How is he so good at getting me to laugh?
We settle into a more comfortable silence than before.
As I work, I can’t help staring at his broad shoulders and perfectly shaped back. The low moans he makes each time I resolve a knot in his lower back are slowly eroding my determination to remain professional.
If I kissed that spot near his spine, would he make the same sound?
Fortunately, I manage to make it through the hands-on therapy without doing anything that would cause me to lose my license. Alexei sighs contentedly when I lay the cold pack against his lower back.
“I need to apologize to you for being an ass in the parking lot,” he states.
My eyebrows hit my hairline when he says that.
“I was the one who screamed at you. You have nothing to apologize to me for,” I insist.
“I was aggressive and provoked you.” He sighs. “It’s not an excuse, but I thought you were a paparazzo. I’d been so careful. I hadn’t wanted to bring those vultures anywhere near this place. All they do is cause trouble. When I saw you, I assumed you were one of them… until you tore me a new one, anyway.”
“I—”
“Honestly, it was refreshing. Most people fawn over me in an attempt to get something out of me or claw their way up the social ladder. It was nice to be treated like a run of the mill jerk for once,” Alexei admits.
It makes me smile even though I’m sure he’s just saying it to be kind.
After the ice is taken off and I’ve scheduled his next appointment, Alexei insists on walking me to my car.
“I’m the reason you had to park there in the first place,” he argues. “It’s only right.”
I grab my bag from the office cabinet and sling it over my shoulder.
“That’s where I usually park. I only wanted the spot in front because I didn’t want to be later than I already was. You don’t have to,” I counter.
“It’s dark by now. I can’t imagine it’s very well lit. I’d be happy to escort you.”
“I’m fine, really. Besides, the garage has plenty of lights. There’s even a few security stations,” I assert.
Why is he so insistent on this? I can’t imagine he wants to risk being spotted by anyone.
Maybe Alexei’s actually interested in me. He was flirting quite a lot.
Doubt creeps in again.
He was probably just being nice. Or maybe he wanted to get on my good side after I screamed at him in the parking lot. I certainly wouldn’t want someone who was angry at me touching my body. I head toward the door.
Alexei steps in front of me, blocking my path.
“What if I said I wanted to walk you to your car because I wanted some time with you in a non-professional context? Would you say yes then?” His tone is level, but his eyes are soft.
My heart lodges in my throat, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
Getting involved with another athlete, especially another hockey player, is a terrible idea. I should say no. I should shut things down in the way I should have when he first started flirting with me. Even if it goes no further than a walk to my car, it has bad idea written all over it.
Except when I try to make myself say no, I can”t do it. The way he looks at me makes me feel beautiful, desirable even, and that”s something I haven”t felt in a long time.
I”ve been quiet too long. Alexei steps out of my way.
“I apologize,” he says curtly. “I shouldn”t have put you in this position. I”d thought you were interested in the same way, but I realize I read the situation wrong. Since you”ve already shut your computer down, I”ll call tomorrow and get myself rescheduled to Jenna for my next appointment. I”ve bothered you enough today.”
“No!” I blurt out.
He stops in the doorway of my office and fixes his dark eyes on mine.
“What I meant to say was, I”d like that.” I shrug sheepishly. “I was surprised. It”s been a while since I”ve done this sort of thing, and I thought you were just flirting to be nice. I wasn”t sure you meant it.”
Alexei runs his fingers through his hair and lets out an exasperated huff.
“I don”t flirt to be nice. I don”t like wasting my time.” He offers me his arm. “Shall we?”
I didn”t think men did that anymore.
Just the feeling of my arm in his sends little sparks of electricity all through my body.
Damn, I really am touch starved.
By the time we get to my car, he’s pulled me as close to him as is physically possible. I”m pressed flush against his side, his arm draped low across my back with his hand gripping my hip. I don”t want him to let go, but I make myself pull away.
“This is definitely a better end to my day than I thought it would be,” I tell him.
“I think we can still improve it,” he says, grabbing my waist and pulling me to him.
He leans in slowly, giving me time to pull away or say no, and kisses me. It”s gentle at first, but even that soft touch sends a wave of heat to my core. I wrap my arms around his neck, tugging him closer, begging for more. I feel more than hear his low moan as he kisses me harder. His hands drop to my ass. Alexei jerks me closer, and I gasp.
I whisper his name as he plants open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck. My leg wraps around his hip, and I press even closer, desperate for any kind of relief from the ache in my center.
I let out a small yelp of surprise when I”m completely lifted off the ground by Alexei’s strong arms. My legs lock tightly around his hips.
“Don”t worry, Kitten, I won’t let you fall,” he murmurs in my ear.
My hands tangle in his thick, dark hair as I bring his lips to mine.
A car chirps on the other side of the garage. We pull apart, both of us breathing hard.
Alexei sets me down gently. I instinctively take a step back, bumping right into the door of my car.
Real smooth, Emily.
He rests his hands on my hips, steadying me.
The only thing I can think about right now is dragging him into my car and seeing how far we can get before security catches us.
Alexei smirks as if he can sense my thoughts. Then he leans back in until his mouth is a breath away from mine.
“Dinner at my place. Six o’clock. Saturday. I’ll send a car for you,” he says.
Every fiber of my being wants to scream yes, but the moment I open my mouth to answer, memories of every jackass I’ve tried to date after having Audrey flood my brain.
Instead of a yes, I blurt out, “You do remember I have a daughter, right?”
“And?” He raises an eyebrow.
“She comes first. Every time. If you can’t handle that, then whatever this is can’t go any farther,” I say, bracing myself for a rejection.
“I’m an athlete,” he replies glibly, “Pro Hockey.”
“What does that have to do—” I start.
“I thought we were taking turns sharing glaringly obvious facts,” Alexei says, cutting me off. “It’s your choice, but if that’s your only reason against it, you should reconsider.”
He reaches into the pocket of my scrubs, pulls out my phone, and types rapidly on it.
“This is my personal line,” he says, handing me back my phone. “If you’re interested, text me your address. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll back off.” He hesitates a moment then adds, “but even if it ends up being a no romantically, I’d like to keep working with you professionally as long as it won’t make you uncomfortable. You’re one of the best physical therapists I’ve ever been to. I promise to be perfectly professional.”
“And if I don’t want you to be?” I breathe.
“I guess you’ll have to text me, then,” Alexei answers.
Instead of pulling me against him and kissing me again like I desperately want him to, he takes my hand like an old-fashioned gentleman and presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. Then he turns and walks away, leaving me leaning against my car completely speechless.