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Stephen guides me to the locker room. The guys are changing. The room is a heavy dose of testosterone. I wonder who is more embarrassed, me or them. I scan the room for Jon. The forearm with the dragon tattoo is hard to miss, attached to a shirtless Jon, the allure is irresistible. My gaze comes to a screeching halt when it reaches his face.
A friskinglicious beard. Why did no one warn me? You bet I am going all Thoraseque here. Yes girl, this man will give Thor a stiff fight even without the hairy outgrowths from his face. But with the beard? Heaven help us all. Nothing compares to him in any alternate universe. At least not in mine. Shinnety shin, Ms. Geeky Meeky is wobbly.
Hey. I am stiff. Not frigid. Who cares if he calls me a cat because most of the time I want to claw that adorable face and chew it. Oh sorry, I trampolined from Thoresque to the grotesque without considering your sensibilities. Anyway, cats do have girly parts. At least female ones do. This dragon wearing, ball thrower has mine in knots. Forget the claws, my tongue wants to do a lot of things.
Jon clears his throat bringing me out of beard coma. My brain cells scramble to put together a response. They fire Intelligence Correcting Butt-kicking Missiles. Right, I need to keep this professional and rein in the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Shit, coming here was such a bad idea. Now it is a bit too late.
Jon glances at me and then goes back to taking off his shoes. He fiddles and grimaces as he struggles with them, trying to ignore me. I don't have time for his games. "If you are trying to break your leg again, let me tell you, no one can fix it."
He ignores me. I step closer and stand next to him. "Want to learn some better ways to break your leg. If you allow me, I can show you."
He continues playing whatever game he is trying to play with me. I crouch in front of him and take his foot in my hands to examine it. He pulls it away. I grab it again. He moves it out of my reach.
This time, I swat his leg hard. "Will you quit fooling around?" My voice is loud. The room goes silent, all eyes on us. Which reminds me why I need to control myself.
"Behave, Jon. Let me examine your leg." I pull his leg back. My medical training picks up the mild swelling on the foot. A few movements make Jon wince, but when I press, the spot does not hurt him. So no tenderness. I examine his other leg and compare the two for any obvious differences in muscle size and strength. Nothing unexpected or major. Was he overexerting himself, as Betsy suggested? When I raise my head, he is staring at me.
I take a deep breath, this is not the time to give in to his charm. This man is hell-bent on damaging his leg. His doggedness to play despite the discomfort irritates me. "This careless attitude is a surprise for a man who fusses so much about his career. What happened to your dream of coaching kids? How do you propose to do it with a limp? Have you thought about Nate? He has his whole life ahead. Do you want to limp around for the rest of your life and miss all the father-son stuff you can do outdoors? At this rate, Mr. Jonathan Hayes, you won't be able to step out of your house without a crutch."
He continues to stare at me, not uttering a single word. My frustration is rising. My ears are hot. "Go ahead, give me the silent treatment. But from tomorrow, you are reporting to the hospital daily for your physio sessions with Betsy. I had a word with your coach, you are not allowed into the stadium till we clear you."
Without waiting for him to respond, I stand and turn to walk out. Before I reach the door, he blocks my way. I crash against his chest. He breaks his silence "Are my broken bones the only reason for your visit to the dungeon of football? I want more than the 206 chances I am entitled to.”
Tickle me mad. A jock with a math problem. The equation is enticing. We end up having a staring match. I am not one to back away from a fight. "You need to work on your terrible jokes and your math, Mr. Hayes. While you are counting your entitlements, make that 204—the last I read in your medical records, two fractures were fixed by some crazy doctor."
He smirks and reaches out to take my hand. What is he doing? Not again. I need a course correction. If I keep joking with him, he will not take me seriously. Time to sober up. "Jon, if not for yourself, consider your team, your friends and family who value and admire you."
"Where do you include yourself, Doc?" His eyes are search mine. The moment I feared most. I find my resolve melt at his shining blue eyes.
"Jon, let's not start this again." Jason intervenes, trying to broker peace. Jon gives him a stiff arm and waves him off. "Okay, but first, I need to speak to Sharon alone."
This is what I had been dreading when I came here. He pulls me towards one of the side rooms. The moment he lets my hand free, I move to put some distance between us.
A futile attempt, as Jon grabs both my hands and holds them in a gentle grip. Seconds tick away in silence. I count our breaths. The pull is too hard to resist. My feet carry me closer to him. I rest my palm on his bare chest. With every breath, I inhale his scent. The deodorant mixed with sweat is a lust-inducing dizzying fragrance.
His eyes are droopy and breaths shallow. "Sharon, I am sorry about how things ended last time."
I should be the one apologizing for freaking out. "You don't need to apologize," I trace a line along his scruffy jawline.
"Why were you hiding from me? Why did you run?" The disarming smile is back on his face.
Disengage Sharon, my mind reminds me. The reality of what we are about to start scares me into my senses. "Jon, I can't have a relationship with you."
No matter how much I try to explain, Jon does not listen. I am losing myself once again. I take a step back to distance myself.
"You are no longer my doctor. Tom has been supervising my care for three months."
"Yes, but I did operate on you. There are rules against this. You should also think about Nate. What if this does not work? What will we tell Nate? I don't want to be the reason for more pain in his life. We can't hurt him. I won't hurt him."
Jon wraps his finger around a curl hanging on the side of my face. He slides his finger down my hair slowly and then tucks the strand behind my ear. The act is so soft and tender, my heart is a gooey mess. Once the finger is free, he caresses my cheek with his knuckle.
"The reason I want this.” He taps his finger on my chin. “You care about my son more than your own needs. For some reason, you spark things inside me which no woman ever did. A yearning I can't let go of. It's been inside since the first day we met."
His words trigger unease inside my heart. How long will I resist him? I turn away from him. "I can't do this, Jon. We can't do this. We need to keep our distance. I came here because I was worried about your limp."
He turns me to face him. "Sharon, I tried to keep the distance. Believe me, it took all my willpower to stop myself from knocking on your door. Staying away is not helping me and denying us is not helping you. Don't fight this, don't fight us."
"How will this ever work?"
He moves closer to gather me in a hug. I rest my head on his chest. He pulls away to gaze into my eyes. "Give us a chance, Sharon. I admit, even I am unsure about how to go forward with us. I fear I will say or do something stupid that will make me lose you forever. There is this loose connection between my mouth and brain, which short circuits at the most important moments in my life. But if we try, we can make this work for both of us, and Nate."
I stare into his eyes, trying to judge whether I should trust his words because I don't trust my thoughts. "Why should you bother about me?"
"Why shouldn't I? Listen, I have feelings for you. I want to work this out between us," he squeezes me tighter in his arms. His heartbeat vibrates in my ears.
I am still not sure of his intentions. "Why, is what I am asking you. Why do you want to? You can have anyone." There, I said it out in the open. The thing that hurt me the most, seeing him with his publicist. The thing I fear the most. One day, he will move on.
I study his face for clues. His face reflects the hurt. He keeps looking at me for a while, searching for words. "Sharon, I am not involved with anyone. Not in the way I want things with you. I told you. You are the one who made me realize that all those were superficial, temporary relationships. You make me want something more, something deeper."
He lowers his head and kisses me. My entire body is on fire. I want this. I want him. The kiss is like the first time, but more intense. Toe-curling, like the ones in romance novels. He holds me tight. My leg rises, rubbing against his thigh. This is more than a kiss. This is longing. This is a craving. My efforts to keep him away have only fueled the desire in my heart and his touch is setting it on fire. His lips set my mind afloat in a boat called lust rowed by a pounding heart.
He breaks the kiss and whispers into my ears. "Sharon, let us start again?"
Before my mind talks any sense, my heart tugs the strings to my neck and makes me nod. His face lights up, and the grin on his face tells me that his devious mind is up to something. "Make no mistake, Mr. Hayes. You get only one chance, so better not screw this up." Not the most appropriate words, but then, when does my mind ever have any appropriate thoughts when Jon is around?
Jon does not miss the chance. "Oh babe, if things play out well, there will be lots of screwing around." Jon squeezes my ass.
"Remind me to prescribe a mouthwash for your dirty mouth." While his hand is resting on my butt, I should get one for fluids to rinse my dirty mind. I shove him away.
"Jon, you need to behave when people are around. No innuendos please, and no flirting."
"I am a saint." Jon holds his hands to his chest.
"Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Hayes."
"Ouch Tigress, stop clawing at my ego. You burst my favorite balloon." Jon lets out a fake wince as he rubs his chest. "Stop reading gossip columns and stick to your medical books."
My silence sobers Jon. He regards his shoes for a few seconds and then faces me, "What if we take it slow?"
The pleading eyes and pout break my resistance. "Okay, but real slow."
There is silence again, but the dynamic between us changes with excitement and promise. His concept of taking it slow lasts a mere few seconds.
"Tigress, before we begin is there any competition I should know about?"
I am confused. "What do you mean?"
He winks, pouts his lips and plants air kisses around my face. Then he starts patting me. I match his hand movements with my chops and evade most of his touches. "Doc, your kung-fu moves are getting stale. You need to practice with someone."
"What kind of practice, Mr. Hayes?"
"You know, the romantic stuff they talk about in movies and the things that happen between the sheets."
"What am I going to do with you!" I pinch Jon on his waist.
He squirms, "Don't worry about it. I know a lot of things I want to do to you. Follow my lead and play along."
Oh God, I am quite certain this man's brain stopped growing after fifteen. So did mine, sis. I push him away but Ms. Geeky Meeky is in full control and she is itching to mess with him. I tilt my head and tap my index finger on my chin, pretending to think. "Now that you mention it, there is a giant panda who keeps showing up once in a while."
"Are you interested?" Jon's eyes sparkle.
"Hm, not sure, but I find him cute and funny."
"Oh, I can do cute and funny." Jon closes the distance between us.
Not this time. Before he gets too close, I grab his hand and twist it behind his back. "How is this move for a start?"
Jon makes a swift move turning us both. While he manages to grasp my wrists in his hands, he stumbles. His shoulder slams into the wall.
"You trying to injure yourself again."
"No worries, Tigress. I know a charming doctor who can fix anything." The dimples on both of Jon's cheeks will suck me in someday.
I shake my head. Will I ever be able to shut him up? "You bring out the dark side in me."
"If your bad is good for me, then give me all the bad." He has an answer to every objection.
"You are incorrigible. Don' make me regret this Mr. Hayes?"
"Never, Ma’am." John stands at attention and salutes me.
Damn his cuteness. Even if he says otherwise, I sense it in my bones. I am having a full-blown infection of Jon itch.
"You have grown a beard, but not your brain."
He clasps his chest faking hurt at my words. I flip him off and then touch the wrong switch by running a finger on his cheek line.
"By the way, this is hot Mr. Beardman." Shippy ship, Ms. Geeky Meeky does it again. She needs to keep some words in the privacy of my head and not blurt out everything in front of Jon.
His face lights up like a 1000-watt bulb. He jumps, clicks his heels and pumps a fist. Yup, there is no saving me from the soup I put on the burner. I scoot out of the room before he reaches me.