“I really do.”
Derek sat on the mat, legs extended in front of him. I knelt beside him, guiding him through gentle stretches: hamstrings, hip flexors, quads. My hands on his body were clinical but intimate, both of us hyperaware of every touch.
“You're tight here,” I observed, working on his left hip flexor, his injured side.
“It's been compensating all season.”
“I know. That's why we need to keep working on it.” I applied gentle pressure, my hands firm but careful. “Does this hurt?”
“No. Feels good actually.”
I worked through each muscle group methodically, my hands confident and sure. This I knew. This I understood. The language of bodies, movement, and healing.
When I pressed into his lower back, helping him fold forward over his extended legs, Derek let out a low groan.
“Good tight or bad tight?” I asked.
“Good tight. Really good.” His voice was muffled, face near his knees.
I smiled, working my thumbs along the tight muscles flanking his spine. “You played your heart out today. Your body needs this.”
“My body needs you,” he said, then immediately added, “That came out wrong. I meant...”
“I know what you meant.” I pressed a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades through his hoodie. “Your body needs care. And I like taking care of you.”
Derek turned his head to look at me, still folded over his legs. “I like taking care of you too.”
“I know. That's why we work.”
After another fifteen minutes of stretching, Derek was loose and relaxed, sprawled on his back on the mat.
“I could fall asleep right here,” he murmured, eyes closed.
“Food is on the way,” I smiled at him innocently. “And I made a blanket bed for us to chill on… we could have a sleepover…”
“Sounds perfect,” Dex smiled widely at me, his eyes eating me up hungrily. I deliberately didn’t change out of his jersey. I knew he liked it when I wore it. Even though there were a bunch of other girls wearing his jersey all the time.
My phone chimed, breaking off my crazy spiraling thoughts of all the things that could go wrong.
“That's DoorDash. Can you grab it? I ordered your favorite burger.”
“Thanks, Thorn,” he flashed me a grin before going to grabthe food. While Derek picked up the food, I gathered more blankets and mats from the storage closet and created a nest on the studio floor. I grabbed the few pillows we kept for yoga and arranged them against the wall.
“Very fancy,” Derek observed when the nest was complete.
“We work with what we have.” I plugged my laptop in and set it up on a nearby equipment box. “What are we watching?”
“Your choice.”
I pulled up Netflix and scrolled through the options. “Comedy? Action? Rom-com?”
“Not a rom-com. I've had enough drama in my real life.”
“Fair point.” I kept scrolling. “Oh! This one. I've been wanting to watch it.”
“A heist movie? Really?”
“What? They're fun. Clever plots, witty banter, everything works out in the end.”
