Page 40 of What Are the Chances
“What are you doing here?” I repeated.
“Your strapping saved my ass last game, but it’s worn off now.”
An incredible laugh slipped through my lips. “You’re here for a favour?”
He shrugged. “You are meant to be my student PT.”
“Nah-ah. You lost that draw card when I kept your shoulder injury out of my last submission to your trainer.”
His grey eyes narrowed, almost in challenge. “Is that a no then?”
Was it?
In my opinion his shoulder wasn’t bad enough for him to be benched, but his training team might not see it that way, especially with play-offs approaching. They might choose to rest him, to let it recover fully. The reality was though Will would play whether I strapped it or not. That was the weak logic I gave myself to open the door wider and step aside.
Then just like that, Will Caufield was in my house for the second time this week. I needed to make sure that record didn’t keep exceeding.
“Is Parker home?” he asked, walking into the living area and shrugging off his hockey jacket.
He draped it over the back of the couch. The same couch we’d –nope. Don’t go there, Riley.
“She’s in the shower, so we should make this quick.”
Luckily I’d lazily shrugged my backpack off and left it on the ground in the entry. I took out what I needed, then gestured for Will to sit.
When he pulled off his t-shirt and hoodie in one swift motion, I forced a cough to cover my breathy appreciation. The array of tattoos on his right arm and chest stole my attention. There were so many of them, perfectly formed around his taut muscles.
Will perched on the arm of the couch so we were eye level. Swallowing, I stepped between his legs then got to work. With clammy hands I secured the first piece in place, smoothing the tape over his warm skin.
The room was eerily silent, so quiet I could hear the air filtering through the vents. Honestly, there’d be more noise in the campus library right now.
“Thanks for the solid, Dover,” Will said, breaking the stifling silence. “I owe you.”
He didn’t. There wasn’t anything he could give that I should take.
“Have you been doing the exercises I gave you?” I asked instead.
When he nodded, I didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. Will wasn’t afraid of hard work. He could stick to any fitness or diet program without wavering if he knew it would improve his game.
“You ran the New York Marathon?” he asked.
I stilled for a moment, processing the left-field question, before remembering there was a framed photo on the wall behind me. I was red-faced and grinning, holding the medal. Mum was beside me, her sturdy arm around my waist. At least that’s what it looked like. She’d gathered enough energy to stand for the picture, but the effort of flying interstate to watch me race meant she hadn’t been able to leave the couch for a week after that.
“Yeah. I ticked that off the bucket list.”
“That’s awesome, Riley. You’ve had that goal since freshman year. What’s next?”
Whether he was trying to distract himself or me, I wasn’t sure. Either way, I appreciated it.
“I’m not training for anything specific right now. Just focussing on my final semester.”
And getting through these one-on-ones with you.
As I peered down to round off the roll of tape, my hair fell over my face. Before I could shift it, Will was reaching forward and gently tucking it behind my ear. His large hand then trailed down my cheek, his thumb lingering on my jaw. When I sucked in a sharp breath, it was like a verbal firework between us.
“About the other night, Dover.” Will spoke softly, his voice deep and husky. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”
It’s like his fingertips on me were Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth. I couldn’t stop the admission that slipped through my parted lips.
