"Sounds like some of you want to put some money where their mouth is," Tre said, looking at each man around th table and then over at me. "Care for a little wager?"
Slade threw his cards down and got up again. "Whatever y'all do next, I'm out." He headed for the back staircase.
"Betting is what we do around here, son," I informed him. "What, your cute little cheerleader got you on a leash?"
With one foot on the first step, he stopped at and turned back to us. "No dumbass, but I'm still paying for the last bet we made … or have you forgotten you're the one who told Cassidy about it?"
"Right … I forgot I did that. Sorry man."
"Sure you are." Slade continued up the stairs. "I got shit to do. See y'all later."
I tipped back another beer, putting up with my teammates and Pat as they moved on to the next topic and continued with the usual jeers and card game banter. It was probably smart that we didn't go ahead with a bet about Samantha. I'd win anyway, but I didn't need the extra incentive. I had seen the hungry look in her eyes, and felt the way her body responded to me. She'd hand herself over to me eventually. All I had to do was sit back, play it cool, and let her hands do the work.
13
Samantha
Evan was the first thing on my mind when I woke up the next day. After inadvertently clueing him in about this issue with Austin, among other things, I wanted to at least reply to his messages, if he had left any. I rolled over in my bed and separated my phone from its charger on my night stand, unlocking the screen to check.
Wow.
Twelve text messages from Austin.
Not one from Evan.
A flood of relief washed over me. Not about Austin. I already knew it was only a matter of time before he'd up the ante and start blowing up my phone with texts. By the same token, I gave Evan some bonus points for not doing that.
My morning and lunch hour were uneventful. One part of me dreaded that at two o'clock today I would see Evan again. The rest of me-the parts connected to every nerve ending in my body-was eager and anxious. I wasn't sure if I could trust myself around him.
All it took was a phone call from my mother after lunch to set me straight. My dear dad, my exceptionally well-educated and highly respected father, the physician, had punched the TV during the game yesterday. The result was two broken fingers on his right arm, which meant he'd be off work for at least a couple of weeks, and then on modified duties at the hospital for a while.
I'm not sure exactly why that update from Mom helped me when it came to Evan, but it did. I showed up for my session with him and was able to turn off every emotion and urge the entire time. It also didn't hurt that Jeff, the graduate student, was with us all of this week to observe the hydrotherapy treatments and monitor the patient while he used the underwater treadmill. Evan didn't try anything with me either, neither in person nor by phone. The only thorn in my side all week was Austin. He had stopped the unannounced visits at my dorm, and didn't dare speak to me at the athletic center, thankfully, but he still kept up with the constant texts. I ignored them all, opting for radio silence instead of riling him up by replying.
Overall it was a nice, quiet, uneventful week.
That all ended the next Sunday.
It turned out that Jeff was at an away game, covering for one of his colleagues assigned to the basketball team. That left me on my own for today's ninety-minute session with Evan, and to top it off, there was barely anyone around at the training facility today. Still, he had been hands off all week, and I'd kept my errant thoughts at bay for most of that time. I didn't believe I had anything to worry about.
I was wrong.
The impish look in his eyes when he showed up for our appointment told me that he would vie for my attention and test my patience. He lumbered over to the heated hydrotherapy pool.
"Evan, what are you doing?" I asked, gazing upon the intricate work of the dark tattoos running down his arm from his shoulders to his wrists.
"Taking a dip."
"Give me a second to help you get in. Those steps can be tricky." I was already in my swimsuit, so I stepped over to the equipment shelves for some buoyancy supports he could use. When I turned to help him, he was standing with his back facing the edge of the pool. "Evan, why are you-"
With his arms out, he let himself freefall into the water. I was too far away to stop him. He floated up to the surface and his head emerged out of the water. "Damn, that was good."
I dropped the supports into the water, jumped in and got to his side. "Christ, Evan. Why did you do that?"
"I felt like it."
"Really? You felt like it? We're at the two-week mark since you got hurt and you're progressing well, but that's no reason to start taking risks like that."
He shook off some of the water dripping from his hair. "I'm fine. That's not as dangerous as it looks. You should try it."
"I'm good. Anyhow, we have ninety minutes today. Let's focus. Start warming up with front leg raises and afterward bounding in place. Two minutes each. Slowly, okay?"
"Sure." He started with his warmup routine at one side of the pool while I observed his form from a safe distance. After a minute or so, he looked over at me. "What's your favorite color?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Whatever happened to small talk? It's a simple question. Humor me."
I huffed out a breath. "Teal or red."
"That was easy, wasn't it?" I ignored him. Then he asked, "Is that guy still bothering you?"
"No," I told him, trying to keep it simple.
"Good." He studied me for a few moments before continuing. "Hey, does he know?"
"Know what?"
"About you … that you're still … "
I rolled my eyes. If that question had anything to do with the nature of my sexual activity or lack thereof, I sure as hell wasn't going to answer. "Please focus on the reason we're here. After you're done bounding in place, you can move on to the side-straddle hop first, and the stride-hop next."
He continued the moves as instructed. Too bad he wouldn't shut up. "Maybe that's why he's ramped it up with the creeper tactics."
Oh, no. He didn't just suggest that Austin started hounding me because I was still a virgin. I said nothing.
"You don't have to be embarrassed about it."
"We are not discussing me right now, Evan."
"I think it's kind of hot. I mean, I don't think you're a loser for … well, for not giving it up. Those were your words, by the way."
The impudence of this jerk was overwhelming. I could throat punch him right about now. My fists balled up at my sides already. For a second, I toyed with the idea of how to make an upper cut to his jaw look like an accident.
"Have you no limits?" I hissed.
He smiled. "No, not really."
"Listen, you rude, arrogant … "
"Prick? Yeah, that's me. Lighten up already. Besides, you can't expect a guy like me to be all ho-hum about information like this. I'm just surprised is all. You're a rare breed … kind of like achieving unicorn status."
My cheeks were hot from anger and an extra dose of shame, to be honest. "Just drop it, okay? You can start on rear leg lifts and alternate toe touches next."
"Got it." I thought he'd leave bad enough alone there, but no such luck. "Come on. You can talk to me. Are you saving yourself for marriage or something?"
"Please. Stop. Talking." I growled out.
"Wow. Sheesh, you really need to get a handle on your rage, Samantha." He grinned, then he added, "I may have just the thing to help you with that."
"You're an ass, you know that?"
"Yes, we checked that off the list two weeks ago. I thought I was growing on you, though."
"Give me a break."
"I was really starting to think you liked me, Samantha. That kiss last week … hugging it out and then the heated little make-out session at my front door. What exactly was that?"
"Well … " I scrambled for an answer. "That was clearly a mistake."
"It didn't feel like a mistake to me. By the way, you should know that's all I've had to go on since I got injured. I'm not even kidding about that. Two weeks is my new record. Maybe you're rubbing off on me, eh?"
"The next moves are the poolside leg supine and poolside scissor kicks. A minute each. Now if you'd please just stick to the exercises, maybe I can make it to the end of the hour and a half without hitting you."
"Ahhhh, I get it now. That's how you get the edge off, huh? Well, the good news is I like it a little rough. You and I can do a little sparring … anytime you want … and anywhere, including up in my bedroom."
I'd had it. That was enough. "One more word from you and I'm leaving!" He opened his mouth to answer and I raised my hand. "I mean it!"