Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance(27)

Still, I managed to get myself together. I grabbed a blood pressure monitor I had borrowed from the lab, a stethoscope, and a few other instruments before heading out the door.

Fortunately, Gibson lived a short bike ride away. I got to his house and locked my bike up right at seven. I was inside his building and knocking on his door a couple of minutes later.

He answered after the second knock. “Good morning, nurse,” he said.

“Morning.”

He let me inside his apartment and I looked around. I’d been there once before, but I hadn’t actually gotten to go inside. The place was clean, surprisingly clean for a place two jocks lived in. It was actually a pretty nice apartment, especially for college kids.

“Avery, this is Hynes.” His roommate was standing in the kitchen, making coffee. He yawned and nodded to me. “You guys met before I think.”

“Briefly,” I said. “Hi, Hynes.”

“Yo. Good to meet you.”

“Okay, where do you want to do this?”

I shrugged. “Right here is fine.”

He grinned. “You sure? Right in front of Hynes?” He looked back at his friend. “No offense, man, but I don’t think I can get it up with you watching.”

“Please,” he said. “You can’t get it up no matter what you do.”

“Nobody needs to get anything up,” I said quickly. “I just need you to take off your shirt.”

He smirked at me. “You’re sure Hynes can stay?”

I sighed. “Just sit on the couch.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He stripped his shirt off and then was wearing nothing but loose black workout shorts and his dark tattoos.

I tried not to stare at his ripped body as he sat down and I got out my equipment.

“First thing we’ll do is blood pressure.” I took out the cuff and wrapped it around his arm. I got out my stethoscope and put it on. “Ready?”

“Go ahead, nurse,” he said. “I’m all yours.”

Ignoring him, I tightened the cuff and listened to his heartbeat. I took my measurements and wrote down his blood pressure, which was unsurprisingly fantastic.

“Okay,” I said, taking it off him. He smirked at me the whole time, and I was having trouble being so close to him. It was so early in the morning, and yet I still found myself wanting to strip off the rest of his clothing.

“Checking me for a hernia next?” he asked.

“No. I just need your pulse.” I took his wrist and a shiver ran down my spine.

“You look like you’re enjoying this.”

“I’m just being professional.”

“I don’t know. I can see it on your face.”

I glanced in the kitchen, but Hynes was gone. I looked back at Gibson, at his intense, laughing eyes. “I’m trying to keep it strictly professional between us.”

He laughed. “Was that before or after I got you pregnant?”

“After, obviously. Now quit moving.”

I took his wrist and found his pulse. I counted the beats for fifteen seconds and then multiplied that by four to get his resting heart rate. I wrote down the number in my little chart.

“Okay, now just breathe normally,” I said, placing my stethoscope on his back.

“Hard to do that with you so close,” he said. “Did you feel my heart hammering?”

“You have a very normal resting heart rate. Please stop talking.”

“I’m sure it’s skipping like crazy with you touching me.”

“Quit talking so I can concentrate.”

“I’m sure you want to concentrate more on my body,” he said.

I sighed but got his respiration rate. I wrote that down and then pulled out a thermometer. “Under your tongue, in the back.”

He put it in his mouth, and mercifully that shut him up for a second. We waited until the thermometer beeped and then I wrote down the reading.

So far, he was above average in everything but temperature. Just as I had suspected, an athlete working at his level was in peak physical condition, even when he was just sitting around. Really, I didn’t need any numbers or anything to tell me that. I could see it just looking at him.

Finally, I got out my measuring tape. He raised an eyebrow at it.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“I want to measure some of your prominent muscle groups.”

His grin spread across his face. “Are you sure that’s all you want to measure?” he asked. “I’ve got a few big places you might want to check out.”

“I’ll stick with your arms and chest, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

I took his arms and spread them out then wrapped the tape around his chest, getting his measurements. I tried to keep my face calm and my heart steady, but as soon as I touched his muscles, I couldn’t help but feel excited. He was just so intense and strong, so ripped and hard. I quickly measured both of his biceps and wrote the numbers down, trying not to linger too long.