He was going to test me, that was obvious. More than I’d ever been tested before with a patient.
But who was I kidding? I’d never had a patient like him before. Not because of his fame. Not because of his good looks. Not even because of his self-centered cocky bullshit. That came with the territory with these famous athletes.
He was different because of our history together…
If I could get through this time with him, then everything would be okay. I just had to keep reminding myself of that fact. I just had to remain calm, keep my mouth shut, and do my job.
That’s all.
And then he would be gone.
Back to his life.
And mine would go back to normal, and I wouldn’t have to live every day with this huge ache in the pit of my stomach.
There was just one problem with my plan. My body was reacting to him like it was a teenager all over again. Standing in that room with him, my palms started sweating and my knees started quivering, my nipples hardened and I swear if I hadn’t been wearing panties, he would have easily seen how he effected me, because I was so wet I had to change out of them as soon as he left the clinic.
If I could somehow get a grip on that, I’d be golden.
In the meantime, I finished my wine, locked my bedroom door, turned off the lights and climbed into bed. My fingers slipped between my legs, and I let my head fall back as I allowed the memories that had haunted me for ten years flood back.
* * *
His kiss was gentle. More than I’d imagined it would be. I’d sat next to him for months, staring at those lips, watching his fingers as he wrote in his notebook, mesmerized by the way his muscles twitched under his skin, the way he squinted his eyes when he was concentrating really hard. I’d imagined what it might feel like to kiss him a thousand times, and when he finally did kiss me, I was completely shocked.
I never imagined he would ever kiss a girl like me. He could have anyone he wanted in school. He could have all the Barbara’s of Highland High, if he desired. I would never have turned down a kiss from him, though. So I didn’t. I welcomed it, I opened my mouth, my arms and my thighs, letting him gently guide me backwards on the bed, his mouth working against mine for what seemed like hours, his hands roaming over my breasts and feeling like nothing I’d ever known. His palms were hot, the scarlet heat burning through the cardigan and my bra like I was naked.
And then I was. He’d kept kissing me as he pushed my clothes away, and then I thought, well, why not? When would I ever have an opportunity like this again? I’d almost made it all the way through high school a virgin, why not give my virginity away to a boy like Jesse? He was a little too sure of himself, but he was still kind and gentle, and oh my god, did it feel good. The pain was quick and over so fast, a week later I couldn’t even recall what the pain had felt like. I could only remember the pleasure.
And there had been so much pleasure. He moved inside of me expertly, his body fitting against mine like they’d been made for each other, like our very existence depended on this togetherness.
He was a part of me. I was a part of him. Nothing in my life would ever be the same now, now that Jesse had held me, had kissed me, had made love to me.
Suddenly, everything was right in my world.
* * *
Until it wasn’t.
It had all happened so fast. It was like sand running through my fingers. First I had it, then I didn’t. Poof! As if it was just a dream.
But it hadn’t been a dream. It was more real than anything I’d ever known.
And now that it was back, I had no fucking clue how to deal with it.
9
JESSE
“Jesse, you have to try to move it a little more,” Maisey said. She was wearing blue scrubs today, her hair pulled back again, and secured with a silver pin. I kept looking at the pin as she stretched my leg, and I was finding myself obsessively distracted by it. I wanted to reach out and slide it out of her hair slowly, just to witness her curls cascading down around her shoulders. Her face was drawn and serious, her lips pursed tightly when she wasn’t speaking. She’d hardly looked at me since I’d walked in this morning.
She was already in the treatment room when I’d hobbled in, her back rigid, her mouth set firmly with professional seriousness. She’d taken a few minutes to go over my treatment plan and schedule in detail and then went right into the treatments.
She’d done some cold laser therapy first, running a wand over my knee that was supposed to shoot lasers below the skin, allowing the healing light to penetrate deeply into the ligaments. I didn’t feel a thing when she’d done that. I just silently watched and listened as she launched into a long drawn out speech about the benefits of cold lasers for the six minutes she was bent over my leg.