Page 31 of The Hooker

I urge her back to me so I can kiss her and whisper against her lips, “Good. Now get me out of here so you can ravish me.”

“SoIcan ravish you?”

“I can hardly do the ravishing with a dislocated shoulder.” I smirk at her. “And you’re not allowed to come first and leave me hanging.”

She slaps my hand playfully. “Be good for the doctors, and I’ll think about it. I’m not sure my hips are up for a ride.”

I groan at the image, and she slips off the bed to the plastic chair with a satisfied smile.

We’re sent home an hour later when everyone’s satisfied nothing tore and I’ll be as good as new in six weeks after rehab. Can’t say I expected the game to put me on the injured list, but hopefully I’ll be fine for the last few games of the Northern Tour around the UK and the end of the season. I’m given strict instructions not to move my shoulder and keep the sling on but other than that, we’re home free and parked in front of Daisy’s house to get Westley before we spend the night at mine.

Both our phones have a million messages from Alex, Linda, and Diana from PR, but apparently they’re handling everything. I have two days off before I’m scheduled for interviews about the dislocation and when I’ll be back playing, and my relationship with the assistant physiotherapist. Daisy was given time off too while we wait for everyone to lose interest and PR does damage control. But according to Suli, it’s going well and they’ve managed to spin it so her licence isn’t up for debate.

Westley scrambles into the car and launches himself on my lap, puts his paws on my chest, and wags his tail until he falls over.

“Hey, buddy. How was your day? Eat any socks?” I scratch behind his ear and settle him on my lap for the short drive to my house.

“He better not have. He has strict instructions to only eat toys from now on, don’t you, baby?” Daisy reaches a hand out to pat Westley and encounters my hand. She gives me a condescending pat and parks in my driveway.

She rounds the car to open the door for me, since I have one arm in a sling and the other wrapped around Westley, and helps me out of the car before snagging our bags.

We enter my villa with the hardwood floors she likes so much, and I flick the lights on while Daisy gets Westley settled. She turns to me, crosses her arms, and looks me up and down.

“Like what you see?” I try to pose but don’t manage much with the sling.

“You need a shower, my lovely.”

“Rude,” I respond, despite the feeling racing through me when she calls me lovely. Like someone poured hot chocolate into my veins on a stormy day. Comforting, and I never want it to end.

“You really want to stay in your playing clothes I know for a fact are covered in sweat? Not to mention your jersey is barely clinging to you.” She tilts her head and scans me again. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I would love a shower.” Nothing beats a steamy shower after a game to wash away the sweat, mud, and sometimes blood. “I’m not sure I can manoeuvre properly, though. Or if I need to wrap this or something.” I gesture to the sling. The doctor probably told me, but either I’ve forgotten or was too distracted by Daisy holding my hand to listen.

“It’s a good thing I’m here then. I’ll help you shower.”

My throat convulses. “You will?” Is that my voice all squeaky?

“Yes,” she says with amusement tinging her voice. “You’ll be more comfortable when you’re clean and you need help doing it. I want to help. Maybe do other things too.” She bites her lip to cover her smile.

“My bedroom’s at the end of the hall.”

She turns and strides down the hall and pauses at the doorway. “You coming?”

My legs remember how to work, and I reach her in three paces and pass her to enter the attached bathroom. I flick the lights to illuminate the warm grey room and open the glass shower door, turning the water on hot.

“How are we doing this?” I ask, frowning at the sling.

Daisy puts her hands on her hips and analyses the shower. She nods and says, “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll undress you, take the sling off while you make sure not to move your arm, and then I’ll help you shower.”

“If I’m going to be naked, you better be as well.” I eye her black rainproof uniform.

“Obviously.” She unzips her jacket to reveal a tight black tank top, but doesn’t remove anything else. “But you first.”

Daisy comes closer and carefully removes my sling, giving me strict instructions not to move the position of my arm until she tells me to, and then she grasps the rip in my jersey and tugs. Fabric rips and a tiny frown of concentration mars her face, and she huffs when the fabric stops at the hem. She yanks more forcefully and smiles triumphantly when the jersey rips all the way.

My mouth dries. “I shouldn’t have found that sexy.”

She removes the destroyed jersey from me, careful not to jostle my arm. “I’ll rip clothes off you any time.” Her eyes scan me, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips when her eyes track the hair trailing from my belly button and disappearing into my shorts.

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