Chapter 5 #3
She returned her full concentration to my body, manipulating my shoulder and to my shock, I didn’t feel the same pain as I had before. “You really think so?”
“I know what you’re going to say, Mr. Kendrick.
That I should keep my nose out of a business I have no place being in.
Right? Well, sometimes it takes someone standing on the outside to notice what everyone else refuses to.
You’re fighting some demon inside of you and until you figure out why, you’re not going to advance.
Not because you aren’t good at what you do, but because your mind is keeping you from succeeding.
This injury wasn’t your fault. But if you hadn’t been trying to start a fight all night long with that other player, maybe he wouldn’t have felt the need to get even. ”
Wow. Now I was getting angry.
Yet I’d be damned if she wasn’t right.
Coach Stryker hadn’t even said that to me up to this point.
“Let me guess. You think I should sleep with my hockey stick?”
I could sense her shrugging even though I couldn’t see her doing so. “If that’s what it takes, although I doubt that will work in and of itself.”
Little Miss Know-it-all.
“Yeah, well, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Hockey is a rough sport and everybody knows it. You just admitted you’re nothing but a massage therapist. Stick to what you’re good at.”
She instantly tensed, her breathing hitched. While she didn’t stop rubbing, I sensed she’d shut the door she’d cracked open for me.
Christ. Why was I being such an asshole with her?
A full five minutes ticked by and she was determined to ignore me.
“You just moved here. Huh?” I threw out the question.
“Yep.”
“Where did you come from?”
Her tension was evident by the change in the pressure in her fingers. My keen hearing also captured a shift in her breathing. “Far away.”
In feeling her disinterest with me, I became antsier, longing to learn more about her. She continued the massage, working out the kinks on almost every muscle. I closed my eyes, finally starting to relax when I sensed it was all over. She moved to the sink, turning on the water.
“You’re all finished. We’ll do this again tomorrow. I’m assuming you’ve already had ice therapy. You can use heat for the aches, and I suspect your shoulder will act better after the light manipulation. Try not to use it tonight. Don’t lift any heavy weights. Don’t go out dancing.”
She wasn’t interested in looking at me.
I shifted into a sitting position, careful to position the towel over my boner.
“We call it a twig.”
My comment barely registered any acknowledgment. “What’s that?”
“A hockey stick. I’m hoping to get a big time sponsor this year. You know, for the stick. At least one.” Why was I jabbering on about hockey shit with her?
“That’s nice.”
Nice. She had no idea what obtaining sponsorships could mean to a player or a team.
Sure, being in the AHL meant the sponsorship was usually regional, but I’d been approached by a national firm.
Suck it up, Wolfman. She doesn’t care. The truth was I had my doubts about the reason I’d been contacted in the first place.
There were some dubious people out there eager to exploit shifters, turning them into little more than circus animals.
That wasn’t going to be me.
“Look, I’m sorry about what I said to you, Georgia.
That wasn’t fair. But honestly, hockey is a violent sport.
I just… I have a lot going on in my mind.
Maybe I allowed my frustration to get the better of me.
Maybe I could make it up to you. What do you say we grab a drink?
I’m allowed to have alcohol. Right? I know a cute little place not too far from here. It’s on the way back to North Bend.”
“I don’t think so. I’m here to do my job and I’ve yet to get settled.”
“Ah, come on. I like when you have your hands all over me.” Fuck me. Open mouth and inset my entire leg. What was wrong with me around this woman?
Georgia chose that moment to face me, still drying her hands although I suspected the towel was now a prop. At least my befuddled massacre of the English language garnered me a huge smile.
“You have soft hands.” What? Embarrassment usually didn’t happen with me, but now I was the one who felt heat crossing his jaw. “You know what I mean. Professionally.”
“I know what you meant and no apologies needed, Mr. Kendrick. You’re very right. I’m just a massage therapist and nothing else. Same time tomorrow. Please don’t be late. I have a busy schedule tomorrow since your team has a game and from what I can tell, your teammates do appreciate me.”
Wow. She knew how to kick a guy in the balls without physical injury.
I slid off the table, taking my time to wrap the towel around my waist, maybe hoping for the same reaction as before.
That didn’t happen. Yes, her eyes fell to the thick bulge between my legs, but there was no interest, not even a speck of amusement.
Just utter disdain as if for all men.
Whatever her story, she’d been tossed around by some jerkoff of a male, who just might be some asshole who looked a hell of a lot like me.