Chapter 33 #2
I was going to disappoint him tonight, wasn’t I?
Oh God. I’d been so determined to carry my team last night, so hellbent on not letting them down… now I was going to pay for that with Garrett. Now he was going to pay for it. After we’d already only been able to fuck one goddamned time since the dad trip.
How long is he going to put up with this?
I made it home without incident. Collecting my suitcase and getting it into my car hadn’t been fun, but I’d managed. Both my bags were still in the car now, and that was where they’d stay until these muscle spasms eased.
I had painkillers. I had muscle relaxers. I could take one, and they’d probably help a lot.
I considered it, too, but held off. There were all my usual reservations about only taking something when I was desperate because I was scared of getting hooked. I was pretty sure I was that desperate at this point, but I still held off.
Garrett was on his way.
He’d texted a little while ago to let me know he was leaving his place, which meant he’d be here any minute now.
He was coming over, expecting to tear up the bed with me, and what was I doing?
Trying not to cry while I stretched my back and arms and begged those muscles to let go.
There was one in particular—one that Mel said connected the scapula to the spine, I thought—that was so tight, I could barely move.
Even breathing made my damn eyes water. And that was to say nothing of the bullshit running up my neck and higher; I always forgot how cable-tight neck muscles could lead to wicked headaches.
The back bone’s connected to the bullshit bone…
If they wouldn’t loosen up enough for me to give my boyfriend everything he deserved, could they at least relax enough for me to be halfway decent company? Because right now, all I could think about was the pain. It was all-consuming in ways even my separated shoulder hadn’t been.
The bullshit bone’s connected to the fuckery bone…
God, this sucked. I tried every stretch I could think of. All the ones I’d done in physical therapy past and physical therapy present, and would probably do in physical therapy yet to come. They didn’t work. They just hurt. That stupid muscle seemed to get even tighter, the pain cutting deeper.
The fuckery bone’s connected to the please-kill-me bone…
And then… the garage door opener started up.
“Oh, fuck my life,” I whispered.
A panicked thought crossed my mind: what if he came in, grabbed me, and kissed me?
We’d been known to get very physical the instant we were in the same space, and I stupidly hadn’t texted him a heads-up.
For all I know, he was going to step through that door and give us both one hell of a rude awakening.
The car door shut. Then the garage door opener kicked on again. Over the rumble of the motor, Garrett’s footsteps approached.
With my heart in my throat, I opened the door.
Our eyes met.
And Garrett froze.
Lips apart, he said, “Holy shit. Are you okay?”
I was equal parts relieved that he’d caught on and mortified that I was being that obvious. But as long as he’d noticed, why bother trying to hide it? He was going to figure it out the instant we tried to do anything he’d come here for.
Sighing, I leaned against the kitchen island and kneaded the back of my neck. “I’m… sore.”
“Something tells me ‘sore’ is an understatement.” He stepped closer and put his hand on my waist, but he didn’t make any move to kiss me or anything. “Are you okay?”
For the past almost-twenty-four hours, I’d been fending off that question, insisting I was fine to medical staff, coaches, and teammates alike.
Face to face with Garrett, I was poised to make that same insistence again, but I just… couldn’t do it. Because I was tired of lying? Because I was just tired? I didn’t even know. What I did know was that looking into Garrett’s eyes, there was nothing I could do but tell the truth.
“In terms of being injured? Yeah, I’m fine.
It’s… nothing’s broken or torn or…” I waved my hand, the gesture heavy as moving my arm tugged at that one extra bitchy muscle.
“In terms of pain, I’m…” I rubbed my eyes and sighed.
“Not really, no.” As soon as the words were out, I deflated.
“I’m sorry. I know you came here so we could—”
“Liam.” He carefully tipped up my chin and looked in my eyes. “Yes, obviously I want to get naked and fuck until we both need to go on injured reserve. But not while you’re in pain.”
My shoulders sank as much as the stiff muscles would allow. “But we’ve been wanting…”
“I know.” He cupped the back of my neck and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to my lips. “I’m just glad to be back in the same space as you. The sex—we’ll get there.”
I stared into his eyes, silently begging him to mean that.
His smile made my knees weak. “Baby, I’m pushing fifty.” He drew the pad of his thumb along my cheekbone. “I may not be a pro athlete, but I promise there will be nights when I’m the one whose mind is willing but body is weak.”
I swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. It’s okay.” His brow pinched. “What do you need?”
The words “both of us, naked and pain-free” were on the tip of my tongue, but I knew what he was really asking: what did I need that he could give me right then?
I chewed my lip. “Honestly?”
Garrett nodded, the earnestness in his expression making the guilt burn even hotter.
I tried to roll my sore shoulders, which made me wince. “What I really need is to get in the hot tub and just soak until things don’t hurt anymore.”
“Okay.” He gave another nod. “Then let’s do that.”
I grimaced. “It, um… It won’t be anything exciting. When I need it for”—I gestured at myself—“I turn the temperature way up. So nothing below the belt is going to work, you know?”
To my surprise, he smiled and kissed me softly. “As long as it makes you feel better, it’s fine by me.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course.” He watched me, and then horror filled his expression. “Do you really think I’d want you to knuckle through pain so we can fool around?” Shaking his head, he whispered, “This isn’t hockey, Liam. No one’s expecting you to play through pain.”
I chewed my lip.
Sighing, he gently reeled me in and let me lean against him, which felt amazing. So did the way he stroked my hair as he whispered, “We’ll get back to that. I’m not worried about it.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m just happy to be back in the same space as you.”
I closed my eyes. “Even when I’m a mess?”
His laugh was a soft breath into my hair. “Yes. Even when you’re a mess.” Gently drawing back, he looked in my eyes. “Come on. Let’s get in the hot tub and see if it helps.”
I nodded a little, as much as my sore neck allowed, but I didn’t move. I gnawed the inside of my cheek.
He tilted his head. “What?”
“I, um…” I took a breath and looked in his eyes. “I can also, uh… I can take something. It won’t fuck me up or anything, but it might make me tired.”
His lips parted, renewed horror filling his expression. “You… You have something you can take? That’ll help?”
“Yeah. Muscle relaxers and Percocet. From, uh, when I…” I gestured at the shoulder I’d separated earlier in the season.
His eyes got even wider. “Jesus, Liam. If you have something that’ll help, why haven’t you already taken it?” But then he straightened. “You didn’t want it to interfere with…” He gestured at us.
Heat rose in my face as I avoided his gaze.
“Liam.” His voice was soft and not at all patronizing. More like he was horrified. “Yes, I want to have sex. A lot of it. As acrobatically as possible. But only if we’re both into it. Which means, you know, being able to enjoy it?”
“But you’ve been waiting for—”
“I waited forty-seven years to ever lay a hand on you.” He squeezed my arm. “I can wait a few more days to do it again.”
I stared at him.
Garrett laughed softly and shook his head. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I care about you. Now—where are your meds?”
I blinked. “Uh…”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to take them and then get into a hot tub,” he went on, “so let’s have you take one, and then we’ll chill in your bed or on the couch. Wherever’s comfortable.”
Could I even argue with him? Because quite frankly, curling up in bed with him and some drugs sounded amazing.
“Okay.” I nodded slowly. “Let’s go.”
I probably resembled an old man as I climbed the stairs. If I did, Garrett didn’t say a word.
In the bedroom I’d intended to thoroughly ransack with him, he helped me get out of my suit. “I, uh…” I winced as I tried to roll my shoulders. “I always feel kind of gross after I fly. Maybe before I take anything, I should grab a shower.”
“Okay. Do you want company?”
I met his gaze.
His smiled. “I know we’re not going to be doing anything. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be close to you.”
That sounded better than anything had all damn day, so I agreed.
The reality turned out to be even better.
Letting hot, high-pressure water beat on a sore muscle always felt amazing. Doing that while my boyfriend had his arms around me and let me lean into his naked body? Fucking hell.
He got hard, but we both ignored it. I wished I could do something for him, but it just wasn’t going to happen, and he didn’t push the issue. He just held me against him, stroking my hair while the water pounded on my upper back.
“God, this feels so good,” I murmured.
“Yeah?” He kissed my temple. “Is it helping?”
“A lot, yeah.” I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry about all this.”
“About what? Being in pain?”
“Being… like this. Not being able to do everything I said I would tonight.”
“Liam,” he whispered, and drew back enough to meet my eyes. His gray hair was wet, droplets of water rolling down the lines in his face as he studied me. Then he exhaled. “Look, yes, I’m all for everything we do in bed. I love it. But that’s really not the only reason I’m here.”
I held his gaze, unsure what to say.