Page 3 of Iowa Intellect
The fans loved it. There was a time when I would have loved it, too. In fact, my mind and heart love it now, but my aching body is complaining––loudly.
I sink into the icy bath and squeeze my eyes shut as the initial tingling pain shifts into numbness. Even though I have loved the ice rink my entire life, being cold really isn’t on my list of favorite things. I gladly endure the temporary discomfort, though, because I know it will help reduce my post-game inflammation and sore muscles.
Uncertain if it’s her irresistible scent or just my general awareness of her nearness, I peek one eye open just in time to see Dr. Wilson swish past me on her way to properly stitch up Stoner’s cheek. He took a puck to the face and kept right on playing––earning him the respect of our fellow players and the fans on both sides of the stands.
The mental image of the beautiful doctor leaning over to stitch me up has my open eye falling shut as I imagine her tender touch caring for me, rather than Stoner. Somehow, the buttoned-up silk shirts the woman wears under her starched white medical coat are even more sexy than a lacy, low-cut top ever could be.
I sink deeper into the frigid water and allow my naughty thoughts of the team doctor to keep me warm.
The doctor’s eyes are filled with alarm as she shakes my shoulder. “Brock, wake up! You’ve been submerged for more than fifteen minutes. We need to get you out of there now.”
I glance around the medical recovery room and am startled to realize that I completely lost track of time. The other players have cleared out, leaving me alone with the gorgeous doctor.
As soon as I move to emerge from the water, she places a warm hand on my shoulder. “Take it easy. Let’s go nice and slow.”
I can think of plenty of things I want to take ‘nice and slow’ with her, but I manage to keep that to myself as I follow her instructions and climb out of the water.
She wraps a warm towel around my shoulders, and I’m horrified to realize that I’m shivering. This is not at all the tough, manly impression I want to give her. The way she’s rubbing her hands up and down my arms is nice, though––really nice.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying closer attention to the time.” Her big, beautiful eyes shine with sincerity as she gazes at me.
“It’s not your fault,” I assure her.
“It is, though,” she chastises herself. “Stoner was such a mess that I gave him my full attention. I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
I can’t stop the flash of jealousy that spears through me at the thought of Stoner having her ‘full’ attention. That envy quickly dissipates, though, as she puts her arm around me to guide me to the cushy leather sofa. The fact that she doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned about getting wet or cold is completely endearing.
Once we’re seated beside each other, she leans over me to grab a folded blanket from the edge of the sofa. Mumbling almost to herself, she says, “We need to get you warmed up.”
I’m tempted to tell her that being beside her is warming me up faster than anything else could, but when she wraps the blanket around me and tucks it in on both sides of my hips, words completely fail me.
No amount of cold water in the world could douse the fire that spreads through my veins at having the literal woman of my dreams fussing over me like this, right after I’d been dozing and picturing all of the naughty things that I’d like to do with her.
The blanket over my lap does little to hide the straining from my swim trunks. Her eyes are drawn downward, then they widen in surprise at the sight.
“Oh!” She jumps backward as if it is a snake that may strike her at any moment. Looking down at the floor and nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, she says, “Umm, I’ll give you some privacy.”
Not wanting to leave things with her on this uncomfortable note, I try to make light of the situation by saying, “You’re a doctor, so I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen a million times before.”
“Right,” she agrees as she stands to leave. Turning back in my direction but staring at the floor, she says, “It’s just a natural, physical reaction. No big deal at all.”
I can tell by her high-pitched tone and nervous mannerisms that it is a big deal to her, but I’m not sure what to say or do to put her at ease.
Indicating the bulging blanket even though she refuses to raise her gaze from the ground, I say, “Obviously I’m very attracted to you, but I would never act on my primal urges without your enthusiastic consent.”
“Oh, I know you wouldn’t do anything like that.” Her voice comes out in a shrill half-shout, then she lets out an awkward giggle, whirls around, and scurries out the door.
I tip my head back on the couch, stare at the ceiling and say sarcastically to the empty room, “Real smooth, Brick Man.”
4
CAROLINE
Even as I’m squeezing into the sparkly, sequined mermaid tail, I can’t stop thinking about Brock. Deep down, I know that his erection was a physical-only reaction that means absolutely nothing, but there is no denying that I want to believe that he has real feelings for me.
Flopping around and trying to shimmy the colorful neoprene tail up over my hips has me out of breath. The off-time from my favorite hobby has clearly left me out of shape.
Normally, hockey season and mermaid season have very little overlap, but when I received the call about a 9-year-old’s birthday party at a private, heated pool, I couldn’t resist the urge to get back in the water. The water calls to me, much like it would probably draw in an actual mermaid.
