Chapter 10

Mason wasweird all the way through lunch, like the annoyance of the tension between us was getting to him blackening his mood, which was the opposite of his typical light heartedness. The only time he'd smiled was when fans had come over to ask for an autograph or snap a selfie. And now he was arguing with the doctor, which I knew he wanted space from our situation, but his acting irrational was causing the exact opposite reaction in the doctor.

"I'm absolutely fine to stay by myself, and I'm not wearing this thing anymore." With a huff, he yanked the sling off and tossed it onto the ground.

One of the primary symptoms of a concussion was moodiness, so if he wanted the doctor to think he was doing better he'd need to stop. Maybe if he wasn't being so difficult, the doctor wouldn't be insisting on another day of supervision.

"Our typical recommendation is four to five days, but I'd like to err on the side of caution and give it a couple more."

It was probably a wise move. The Revs were playing the Metros tonight, which meant it would be a close game. Mason would likely be more worked up than he had been for the last couple, and even when he was doing his best to rein it in, it was difficult for him not to react to the outcome of the game in a big way. Especially because it was clear that the team was struggling without him.

"Is she bad company?"

I might have bristled at the implication if not for the sympathy Dr. Anderson was silently telegraphing my way. Clearly, he thought I'd been dealing with this bad attitude for days.

"Do you want someone else?"

"No, no, not at all." Mason sighed. "I just want to be back on the field."

Dr. Anderson turned his attention back to me. "How's his shoulder?"

"It's fine." I stepped up and pulled up the notes I'd been keeping in my phone. "Range of motion is great, honestly. The sling is more for support and a reminder to his fans to take it easy when they approach him than it is to stabilize the shoulder. And he doesn't seem to have much pain." I glanced back at Mason. "His strength has mostly returned. Putting aside his head issues, I'd say he could be back on the field in three days."

Dr. Anderson rubbed his chin thoughtfully and assessed Mason.

"See? I can play in three days," Mason added.

The doctor's mouth turned down. "That would be the case if it was only your shoulder we were concerned about. Your head is still the bigger issue."

Mason threw his hands in the air. "I can't just sit around and do nothing."

Dr. Anderson arched a brow, obviously used to pushback like this. "Let's start with some light cardio?—"

"Like running the bases?" Mason sat up straighter, and his face brightened.

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. I'd stay out of this argument.

An exasperated huff left the doctor's mouth. "No. No impact. Walking only. To get your heart rate up. Like a stroll around the harbor."

Unsurprisingly, Mason's mouth instantly turned down into a frown.

"You gotta start somewhere, Mason," I reminded him. "We'll go together."

Bowing his head, he laced his fingers in front of him. "I just miss having the outlet. Not playing makes me antsy."

My heart ached at his admission. I had to remind myself that his surly attitude was justified. He lived his life for the game, and now we were telling him he had to wait longer to get back to it.

"It's common for athletes to miss the adrenaline rush." Dr. Anderson looked up from his notes. "What do you do in the offseason to deal with it?"

Mason put his hands on the bench on either side of him and shifted, keeping his chin tucked. "Pickup basketball, trivia night…sex."

The doctor chuckled. "No basketball yet, but either of the other two would be fine." Then he turned to look at me. "It would be okay for you to head home for the night if he's got a date. Just come back in the morning."

This was all relatively routine. Athletes usually asked about sex pretty quickly after an injury. Typically, I didn't think much of it. But in this moment? Though it wasn't fair or reasonable, my heart raged at the idea of Mason going on a date. He and I were nothing more than athlete and trainer, so I had no right to be upset.

"Sure." I nodded at the doctor. "No problem. I'll make sure I'm out of the way."

In my periphery, Mason gritted his teeth, but I kept my attention averted, hoping he couldn't see the way this conversation had affected me.

"Great." Dr. Anderson snapped the chart shut. "Then I'll see you in two days." He shook Mason's hand. "Call me if you need anything, Rory."

I nodded again, and then he was gone.

Mason crossed his arms over his navy T-shirt, finally garnering my attention. "Do you really think I'd send you home so I could hook up with some random girl?"

I took a deep breath, ignoring the lancing pain in my chest. "Athletes tend to have higher-than-average sex drives. To help deal with the frustration of injury, it's common to use sex as a release."

He pushed off the examination bench and stood only inches from me, forcing me to look up at him. The scent of his pine cologne hit my nose just as the heat of his body wrapped around me and made my core clench. He wasn't touching me, but he might as well have been.

"That's all true. But you're forgetting one important detail, Aurora."

I fought the shiver that threatened to run down my spine at the sound of my name on his lips, but there was no stopping the goose bumps that broke out on my arms.

He noticed the reaction. Of course he did. And he ran a finger along my pebbled skin from my wrist to my elbow, making my heart rate pick up speed.

"There is only one woman stuck in my head." His jade green eyes burned into my own, and the air between us thrummed. "So there is no way I could touch anyone else."

I sucked in a quick breath. No matter how much physical and figurative space I'd tried to put between us over the last few days, this heavy level attraction had continued to hover like a fog. I was locked in his sights, helpless to escape this ensnarement.

But with a blink, he stepped back and cleared his throat, and the tether between us slackened.

"So let's go for a fucking walk." Mason yanked his Boston Bolts hat off the exam table and pulled it low over his eyes. Then he headed toward the exam room door and held it open for me.

It was a gorgeous June day. The air wasn't too hot or muggy, but it was warm enough to spend the day outside in short sleeves.

We'd been walking in silence for a solid ten minutes before I worked up the nerve to speak. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." He roughed a hand over his jaw and tugged his hat down low again. "I'm just frustrated. Usually, I take all this out on the field, so not being out there only makes it that much harder." He shook his head. "And as much as I say my head is good. I'm not in a place where I could win at bar trivia yet either, so that would just annoy me."

That I understood, he didn't even lose at cards well. I had thrown the last few games in an effort to keep him chill.

"Want to check out the zoo?" He nodded at the sign for the Boston Zoo ahead.

I couldn't help the confused frown that tugged on my lips. "You want to go to the zoo?"

"Yeah, why not?" He shrugged and side-eyed me. "Come on, it'll be fun. We could see Puff."

"I don't understand what all the excitement over that bird is about."

"He's our team bird." Under the bill of his hat, his face lit in a smile. "Come on. Once you see him, you'll understand. You're gonna love him."

I very much doubted that.