Rhett: Mmm. I’m thinking about your ass now.
Me: I’m serious. Am I even allowed to sleep with members of the team? I don’t know the rules for something like this.
Rhett: If you’re worried I’m going to brag to the rest of the team about banging the smoking-hot trainer, relax. I don’t kiss-and-tell.
Me: What about fuck-and-tell?
Rhett: Same thing.
Me: Kissing and fucking are very much NOT the same thing.
Rhett: Point is, I won’t tell anyone. I don’t know if it’s allowed or if you can get in trouble, but we can keep this our little secret.
Me: I really appreciate that. This is my dream job, and I don’t want anyone thinking I took it just to sleep with hot hockey players.
Rhett: That’s not why you took the job?
Me: Shut up.
Rhett: Yes ma’am :-)
Me: So… was this a one-time thing? Or do we want to do it again?
Rhett: I want to do it four more times. Minimum.
Rhett: But I understand if you’re worried about your job. I’ll respect whatever you think.
Me: I really appreciate that. I’ll think on it.
Rhett: I’m thinking on it right now. Specifically, the way your tongue felt in my mouth when I came.
Rhett: You’re a much better kisser than Andy.
Me: LOL
I set my alarm and put my phone away, then turned out the lights.
Our little secret. I liked the sound of that.
*
I was worried that things would be weird between me and Rhett, that there would be too much sexual tension between us to go unnoticed by the rest of the team, but everything feltstrangely normal the next day at practice. I worked with the injured players in the exercise room while the rest of the team did drills on the ice. When they were done, I set up the ice baths and massaged the players who were sore. Rhett gave me a private wink from the locker room but otherwise played it totally cool.
Nobody knew what we had done last night.
It was crazy howhotthat made it.
Our little secret.
When it was my turn to work on Rhett’s shoulder, we chatted quietly about mundane things. The Atlanta weather, and the storms that were supposed to hit later tonight and tomorrow. The two interns that worked for me were busy massaging players on the other tables, so we didn’t have any privacy.
“Want to get a drink tonight?” Rhett eventually asked in a whisper. “I know a place that serves a mean IPA.”
“Oh yeah?” I whispered back.
He nodded. “My place. I’ve got a six-pack in the fridge, and an extremely comfortable mattress.”
I struggled to keep my expression blank. I glanced at the interns on the other side of the room, then replied, “I can’t. My parents drove into town for the weekend. It’s my dad’s birthday.”
