Chapter Nine

Keely

I fill Paula in on all the new developments with Reeve, mostly about the lack of pain meds while standing in the kitchen. With Reeve still asleep, I attempt to keep my voice down.

"Reeve may be feeling overwhelmed. Pain medication can make people feel vulnerable. It's not uncommon for athletes like him to want to push through the discomfort. And maybe he's telling the truth that pain meds dull his senses. That wouldn't be the first time I've heard an athlete say that. Though I've never experienced any of my post-surgery patients refusing drugs before–that's a first."

"Exactly! This can't be good for him to try to recover from this much pain. And how am I supposed to push him through strengthening techniques if he's in extreme pain while we do them?"

"Are you worried about his discomfort? Or yours?"

I wasn't expecting that question from her.

I'm a physical therapist and my job is to help people restore their mobility after an injury or surgery. My patients are usually always in some kind of discomfort during the process. But maybe she's right. Maybe seeing him in that much pain bothers me on a level that it never has before because of this inconvenient crush.

"It can be challenging in our line of work to push people through pain, especially when we feel something for them--"

"I don't feel anything for him. That would be inappropriate." I tell her.

I can practically hear her smile over the receiver.

"Okay... you don't have feelings for him. But remember that he is the only one who knows his own pain tolerance."

"Well, instead of allowing him to max out his pain tolerance, I've read about alternative ways to manage pain that aren't drug-related. Have you used anything like that with patients?"

"There are a few that can be effective, but it depends on the patient."

"Okay, so, like acupuncture and herbal remedies?"

"Yes, but there are a few others that he could try. Hypnosis, aromatherapy, meditation, sex..."

I just about swallow my own tongue with her last option.

"Did you just say sex?"

I've heard of the other ones in school, but sex is new.

"Yes, some patients find that having an orgasm serves as not only a distraction from the pain, but it has also been reported that patients benefit from the burst of endorphins which help to mask the pain. It doesn't work for everyone."

"Keely... are you here?" I hear Reeve's voice.

"Yeah, I'm here," I call back.

"He just woke up, I should check on him. Thanks for the advice Paula, I'll discuss a couple of the options with him and see if he wants to try any of them."

"Keep me posted, okay? I'm just a call away," Paula said before hanging up.

Taking a deep breath after that call, I head for Reeve's room.

I push through the open door and see Reeve standing with his crutches in the same clothes as yesterday.

"Hey, I didn't know if you had left already to pack for the new apartment."

"Nope. You have me until the superintendent comes by to change the locks. Then I'll run home and grab what I need. I don't have much anyway. I only packed a couple of suitcases just in case things didn't work out in Seattle."

Not like I have any intentions of going back.

I actually like working at my uncle's bar if finding a job in the field I want doesn't come quickly. Though I'm hoping that my agreement with the Hawkeyes all works out: Reeve will be back on the ice and I'll secure my dream job as the new PT on staff.

"I'd like to take a shower. I haven't taken one since after our win a couple of nights ago," he says, moving toward the ensuite in his bedroom.

I follow behind him until we're both standing in the bathroom.

"What's that?" he asks, pointing to the shower walker that I put in there yesterday.

"It's for stability while you shower. It was another one of the things I picked up based on the email I got from your doctor. Since you can't submerge your incision, you can't take a bath, and Dr. Morgan stressed very heavily that falling on your knee at this delicate time in your recovery could end your career."

The weight of my words feels heavy between us. Heavier than any conversation we've had so far, but he doesn't say anything back, he just stares at the walker for a second longer than I would expect him to. Maybe mentioning a career-ending fall was a step too far, but he needs to understand how serious this is, if he didn't already know.

"It's not forever, Reeve. Don't think on it for too long."

He nods and then I walk around him toward the shower, turning it on so that the water can start warming up.

"I appreciate everything you're doing. I hope you know that. You didn't have to stay last night… but I'm glad you did."

"You're welcome. And anyway... I owe you," I say, returning to him once the shower gets warmer.

"You don't owe me anything. It was an accident."

I just shrug to keep the emotion from welling up in my eyes.

It's hard not to see him like this and not have guilt.

If he hadn't walked me out to my car, this wouldn't have happened to him. It would have been me instead and he'd be getting ready for today's home game.

"Do you want me to help you undress?"

A smirk creeps over Reeve's full lips. "Are you showering with me, Doc? Not that I mind if you want to watch. I've been traded to enough teams in my career that half the NHL has seen me naked at this point."

My belly flips with the idea of showering with Reeve... especially if he wasn't injured.

I clear my throat and shake away the mental picture of physical contact with a man like Reeve. It's been a while since the last time I was pushed up against a shower wall, and I'm definitely due.

"Oh darn, and here I thought I was special."

His eyes dart between mine. "You had it right the first time. You are special," he says.

I try not to squirm where I stand, showing evidence that his words affect me.

"Well even so, I'm not showering with you. I'm just going to be close by in case you start to slip. And I promise you, I'm a professional. But just to put your mind at ease, you're not the first patient I've seen naked."

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Ouch Keely, that one dug deep. So, you mean to tell me I'm not the special one?" he says, gripping his shirt over his heart.

I roll my eyes. "Every one of my patients is my favorite."

I walk over, searching for a towel, and find a stack of folded towels under the sink and pull one out, dropping it onto the counter..

"Isn't that what all PT's say? Like when you ask your parents who their favorite child is?"

"Oh and I'm guessing you assume that you're the favorite in your family?" I ask.

He winces briefly at my question but recovers quickly like he didn't want me to see that and then covers it up with his charming smile. "Of course I'm my parent's favorite. They had me and then stopped when they knew they had made perfection. A second child would have been obsolete."

I snicker. "Lightning never strikes twice."

"Exactly, and I'm going to be your favorite, Keke. Just wait," He hobbles slowly toward the shower to get closer. "And by the way, I don't think any PT I've ever worked with has seen me naked, so I have to ask you... what's your number? And be careful what you say next. I might get jealous." he teases.

"My number? You mean the number of patients I've seen naked?" I ask.

He nods, reaching out to test the spray of the shower to test the temperature himself.

"I don't know how many. I never kept count, but I've seen patients naked plenty of times."

"Really, when?" he asks.

"In college they were cadavers."

He chuckles at my admission. "I knew it. I'm your first, huh?"

I step closer, gripping the hem of his t-shirt. My gaze flicks up to his for a moment, seeking consent. He nods, and I slowly lift the shirt.

"Yes, my first naked patient. But don't let it go to your head."

"If you're worried about me getting a big head, I wouldn't recommend looking down."

Despite my best intentions, my eyes drift down Reeve's sculpted torso, tracing the defined grooves leading to the deep V of his pelvis, where dark wisps of his happy trail tease just above the waistband of his gym shorts.

God, this man is stunning.

The thought of what lies beneath that fabric sends a thrill through me, and I remind myself firmly that I'm his physical therapist and nothing more.

And then my attention catches on something else.

Purple and yellow bruising on the side of his body peeks out of his shorts and past his hip bone. It's where he took the largest hit from the grill of the hit-and-run vehicle.

"Reeve..." I say, trying to mask the crack in my voice as emotion wants to break through.

He hooks a finger under my chin and gently lifts so that my focus turns up to meet his gaze.

"It's just a bruise. I get them every day at work. It'll fade," he pulls his finger back, gripping the crutch again. "I'd rather we keep doing what we were doing."

Heat floods my cheeks as I reach out, sliding his shorts down his legs while ensuring the waistband doesn't touch his injured knee. "Let's concentrate on keeping you from slipping in the shower instead of your… exhibitionist tendencies."

As soon as his shorts hit the ground, my eyes widen in shock. I was not prepared for Reeve's impressive size.

My jaw nearly drops as I take in the sight of him fully undressed in front of me.

It's been too long since the last time I was with a man. My reaction to Reeve makes it entirely evident.

"Fair enough," he says, pulling me from my gawking. "But just so we're clear, you didn't have to go as far as getting me in the shower if you wanted to see it—"

"Stop," I cut him off, laughter attempting to bubble out of my throat as I try to block it with the back of my hand.

Be professional for the love of God, Keely.

"This is serious, and if you fall while under my supervision—likely ending your career for good—Coach Bex will probably cut the brakes to my car," I warn.

I saw the look in Coach Bex's eyes when he gave me the deadline. He wants his player back and I could tell that he wasn't completely convinced that I'm the PT for the job. The look he gave me before we left the hospital was stern but hopeful.

Reeve's gaze roams over my body, taking in the way his oversized t-shirt hangs loose over my silhouette, the way his rolled-up boxers give me almost no curves, but even still, the way he's looking at me has my center clenching.

"Are you really wearing that into the shower?" he asks.

A blush creeps up my cheeks. "I don't have anything else to wear. Even if my luggage had made it, I definitely didn't pack a bathing suit for Seattle in the fall."

Reeve nods, his expression softening. "Okay," he says, turning away from me. His muscles tense as he pulls his crutches from under his arms and sets them against the glass shower door. He grips the shower walker tightly on both sides; determination etched on his face as he maneuvers himself into the shower without a hitch.

"Take your time," I say, stepping closer to the edge of the shower,my hands outstretched, wanting to be near in case he starts to slip.

He steps into the hot spray of the shower, a sigh passing through his lips, his shoulders relaxing as the warmth envelops him.

I can see the tension in his body begin to melt away.

I watch from the outside of the shower as the hot water cascades down his back and perfect glutes. I remember that first night we met at the bar—the spark between us igniting in playful banter and being wrapped up in his hoodie, feeling safer than I have in a long time. I didn't realize just how safe I actually was being with Reeve.

I know everything about being in the bathroom with him is dangerous to my plans to protect him from my father's sins, but I can't help myself from wanting to be closer.

I pull off my t-shirt and shorts and step onto the tile of the walk-in shower.

I'm still wearing my heather gray sports bra that zips up in the front, paired with matching boy shorts. While it's far from the most erotic outfit I could have chosen, comfort was my priority when I slipped these on yesterday morning for running errands. I hadn't anticipated the possibility of sharing a shower with the hot Hawkeyes goalie. To be honest, I haven't invested in many sexy bra sets since my last breakup three years ago with my ex, Owen, the golf pro who dumped me at his agent's suggestion. But it's just as well that I am not wearing see-through lace because the last thing I should be doing right now is seducing my patient.

The best thing I can do for Reeve is to remember why I'm here.

I'm here to prove that Dr. Morgan is wrong, and I have every intention of doing it. But as I step into the warm cascade, the steam envelops me, and the spicy scent of his body wash mingling with the hot water sends my mind reeling. Reeve steals a glance over his shoulder when he realizes I'm behind him, and the way his eyes narrow on me and then dip down my entire body ignites a burn within me that I wish I could stomp out.

"You know I was just kidding, right? You don't have to be in here with me. I can handle a shower on my own."

"I told you,if you fall, I'll have twenty-two large hockey players out looking for me. I'd have to join some kind of witness protection program."

"I get that you're kidding... but you should know I'll never let anyone hurt you."

I nod, biting down on my lip, and then a moment of silence passes between us. The sound of the shower spray hitting the metal walker and Reeve's body are the only noises breaking the stillness. Water cascades down, producing a soothing rhythm as droplets splatter against the porcelain tiles.

He turns back to the shower, reaching for the body wash sitting on a small, tiled shelf in front of him, squeezing enough into his hand, and then starts to rub his arms and chest with the spicy fragrant soap.

"Are you really planning to just stand there?" he teases, breaking the tension in the air. "Because I could use a hand. Or two."

"This is a shower, Reeve, not a swim lesson, and I plan to keep my hands to myself unless it comes down to preventing a career-ending slip."

"I guess that means a simple reach-around is out of the question? Duly noted." A soft chuckle escapes him and cuts through the seriousness of our current situation, reminding me why I feel so drawn to him in the first place. "Well, then, I could use some educational assistance on careful shower techniques." His playful challenge hangs in the air, tantalizing enough to encourage me to step closer.

He glances back over his shoulder at me when he senses that I'm drawing closer.

"Keely, I'm not serious. I'm just lightening the mood. You don't have to do anything."

"I know, but the least I can do is get your back. Can you hand me the soap?" I ask.

Is it wrong for me to take this opportunity to touch him?

Maybe nothing more can happen between us, but I can at least help him after he's done so much for me.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"I'm sure."

Taking a deep breath, I maneuver my arm around him, staying focused as best as I can on his safety as I take the bottle of soap that he's handing me.

I take the bottle, squeezing more product into my hand than I meant to. The bottle becomes so slippery that I can't hold onto it any longer and it slides right out, dropping onto the tiled shower and making a loud noise and spilling some of the soap on the ground.

I yelp and jump at the sound but when I come down, I slip on the soap.

Before I have a chance to hit the ground, a strong arm reaches around my waist and yanks me up against hard, fresh muscles.

"Reeve! No!" I say, knowing he could lose his balance and slip along with me.

He pulls me over to the tile wall—a groan of pain slips through his lips and my stomach twists at the thought that I just re-injured him.

Oh God… and I'll have to take him back to Dr. Morgan and somehow explain that we were showering together, and I caused his re-injury. I took an oath to do no harm, and here we are.

I don't even want to think of what Coach Bex and Sam will say about this.

"You should have let me fall," I say, my hands against his shoulders as I'm caught between a shower wall, Reeve's thick chest and his hard cock pressed between us against my belly.

A shiver of need rolls up my spine as the heat from his erection radiates against me.

He drops his forehead to mine--his eyes closed as his breathing labors in pain-- his left forearm leans against the wall behind me to balance him while his other arm is still protectively holding me to him.

I thought that I couldn't feel worse than when I saw Reeve in the hospital after the car hit him, but now I've caused him more pain that could have been avoided if I had just let him shower alone.

I'm his physical therapist for God Sake.

My hands trace up his neck until my arms wrap around his neck. "I'm so sorry, Reeve. I didn't mean to hurt you. The soap-- and then the water--and I slipped--"

"Shhh," he says gently, and when his eyes open, the golden amber of his iris locks on mine. There's still pain in his eyes but it's softening. "I'm okay. I've played through worse. Besides, I'd take any injury for this. I'd never pass up a chance to hold you."

There's no teasing smirk across his lips.

No playful banter.

He means every word.

The boldness of his confession jars me, making my heart skip a beat. I'm torn, caught between the professional responsibility to help him heal and a stronger urge to lean into this connection pulling me in.

"I want you to hold me too," I admit, hesitating to allow myself to give in, but he's making it impossible to hold back.

Suddenly, Reeve's lips crash against mine in a desperate kiss, unleashing a rush of heat and need between us. I melt into his embrace, surrendering to the need I've tried to suppress.

My fingers tangle in his damp hair as his tongue slides across my lips, asking for consent. I open for him, allowing him access to deepen our kiss.

His hand that was once curled around my back trails up the side of my body, caressing my curves the way I've imagined he would since the night we met. I gasp as his fingers skim the edge of my sports bra, our kiss growing more urgent and demanding. Desire pulses through me, urging me to give in to temptation despite the voice in the back of my mind telling me that I should stop this, but I can't.

I'm drunk on his kiss and no longer thinking about the consequences.

"Keely..." he growls against my parted lips, his voice tinged with urgency. "I want to touch you. I've wanted it since the moment I first saw you."

My heart pounds against my rib cage and I know he can feel it too.

I should tell him "no". I should protect us both from the possibility of mixed signals and hook-ups that won't go anywhere because I can't bring myself to taint his budding career. But I can't deny him.

Maybe I could have if he wasn't working his way down my throat, kissing and sucking and nibbling his way to my collarbone.

Maybe I could say no if the thick tip of his cock wasn't pressing against my stomach, making me think of how good he'd fill me.

I nod encouragingly, granting him silent permission.

His hand comes between us, flattening against my soft belly and sliding gently down until his fingers find the waistband of my boy shorts, slipping into my slick folds as I grip tighter around his neck.

I choke out a sound of pleasure as he strokes my sensitive flesh, coating his fingers in my arousal and using it to gently spread me open. He continues his testing and teasing until I can't help but rock into his hand the closer he takes me to the edge.

Each time his fingers stroke my clit, a million nerve endings explode like fireworks.

"Yes..." I hiss, my head falling back against the tiles. "Please, don't stop."

"I won't stop until I feel you squeeze my fingers. I want to feel you come."

He dips one finger inside of me and I take a deep inhale as I almost come right then.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, plunging another finger into my core.

I moan out his name,my arms tighten around his neck again, bringing him even closer than before. At this point we couldn't be any closer unless we were one person.

"So responsive," Reeve says, his praise unleashing renewed tingles at every nerve ending. "I can feel you tightening. You're close."

I nod against his shoulder--my ability to speak is completely gone. Arousal and need are the only things that live here anymore.

His fingers begin pumping deeper, steady thrusts until I'm clawing at his back. His thumb focuses pressure on my throbbing clit, setting off more sparks that heat low in my belly.

"I'm going to make you come so hard that you keep coming back for more. So that it's harder for you to make an excuse for why we can't date. I want you addicted to my fingers, Keke."

And then I come--crying out his name as the orgasm pulsates through every cell of my body.

He peppers kisses down my neck and shoulder as he holds me in place while he waits patiently for me to come down from the high.

I take a cleansing breath once my brain finally catches up with what just happened.

I peer down between us.

I can feel the tip of Reeve's cock pulsate against my skin. He has to be uncomfortably hard.

"What about you?" I ask, and then look down at the erection between us.

"Are you asking him or me?"

I glance up to find that teasing smirk across his lips again.

"I don't know, do you two have different answers?"

"Definitely," he says, brushing back a few wet strands of my hair and tucks them behind my ear. "But his opinion doesn't matter to me and it shouldn't matter to you."

"Really?" I ask, feeling a little guilty.

"Really. That was just a sample taste. If you want more... you have to give me more in return."

My eyebrows lift in question. "More like what?"

"For starters, you can drop the "we can't be together because I'm your PT" excuse."

"Reeve... I--"

A loud knock on the front door of the apartment echoes through the bathroom.

"My apartment key..." I say.

He lets out a frustrated sigh.

He knows I just got saved by the bell from having to further this conversation.

"Fine but I'm getting the key. He doesn't get to see you like this," he says, his eyes sweeping over my face.

"Like what?"

"Freshly finger fucked and looking drop-dead gorgeous."

Quickly, he and I work to get the shower turned off, a towel around his waist and his crutches in place.

As soon as he passes through his bedroom and out to the front door, I pull off my bra and underwear while he's getting the key and thanking the superintendent. I yank on my scrubs without anything underneath.

It's not the first time I've gone commando, and since I'm just running back to the apartment above my uncle's garage and then back here to the fully furnished apartment that the Hawkeyes rented for me, it's not a big deal.

Before I walk out the door, I glance at his unmade bed and think about how tonight I'll be staying in my own apartment and not right out in the living room where I can easily change his ice pack. An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach at the thought of Reeve being in his apartment alone.

I walk out of the bedroom and head for the kitchen, wanting to make sure to get him set up with pillows and an ice pack before I leave, though I'm hoping to avoid Reeve starting up the conversation about us dating.

If he cares about his career then he and I can't date. I'm not ready to tell him the truth about my dad, and the real reason for why he and I will never be anything more than PT and patient.

If I have a choice, Reeve will never find out about my dad. I couldn't stand Reeve seeing me differently than he does now.

The front door closes, and Reeve turns around with his crutches and sees me heading for the kitchen.

"Got it," he smiles, holding it up.

"Perfect, thanks," I say and then pull open the freezer, grabbing an ice pack out. "It might take a few hours and I need to run an errand or two but I'll bring back dinner before I head to Oakley's tonight to help out after the home game–" And then I realized what I just said.

Reeve's expression just barely drops and I know he's hiding his disappointment on my account, which I hate."Shoot, I'm sorry,"

"It sucks but it is what it is. I wish I could be at the game at least but Phil and Sam want me to stay home for a few more days to heal first. Sam told me that security has been advised not to let me in if I show up."

"Sounds like they know you very well and they're serious about you resting and healing. Do you want me to call someone to be here with you today or tonight?" I ask, walking the ice packs over to the living room and setting up the pillows that I left out here for him.

He heads in my direction, staring down at the pillows and the ice pack that I have set up for him.

"No, I'll be fine. Dinner would be great but you don't have to do that either if you're settling in next door."

"Is pizza okay? It's fast and there's a good place by my uncle's house."

"Sounds good to me."

We exchange phone numbers in case he needs me to pick anything up and then I'm out the door and headed for my uncle's place.