“No. You can let go now.” I reached for another strip. “Move toward me.”
He indulged me without argument. His scent was faint under the sterile haze of the room, clean and warm, and it tried to drag me right out of the professional lane I’d set for myself. I adjusted my grip, dragging the tape across the joint with a firm pull.
“I know you’re all about the job and whatever,” he murmured, thankfully dropping his gaze. “And I also know that not too long ago I told you to stay out of my business. But you don’t have to pretend with me.”
He talked about his full-blown tantrum like it was a mild misunderstanding. Typical. The tape snapped against his skin. “I’m not pretending. All you need to focus on is keeping your shoulder tucked. Don’t overextend. As long as you protect your shoulder, we’ll both be in the clear.”
He huffed out a sound that wasn’t a laugh but lived in the same neighborhood. “Ah. There she is. I was starting to worry.”
I worked another strip into place. He didn’t flinch, but his muscles twitched beneath my hands. That was new. Either the pain was worse or he was holding more tension than he wanted me to see.
I didn’t mention it.
He still tracked me though, watching every place my hands moved like the entire procedure mattered more than the game he was about to play.
“You’re not looking at me,” he said.
“I’m taping,” I answered.
“Hmm.” His hand grazed my hip as he shifted in place. He didn’t apologize for it. “Very focused today, Doc.”
I reached for the next strip of tape, already gauging the angle I needed across the front of his shoulder, when Theo gave me a look that didn’t belong in a medical setting at all. His mouth tilted in that smug curve he used whenever he knew he’d gotten under my skin.
My fingers jerked inexplicably, and the strip folded in on itself before I could stop it. Creases everywhere. Completely useless.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, trying to flatten it out. No luck.
Theo’s smirk deepened.
I reached for the roll to cut a new strip, but it slipped right through my hands, hit the floor, and rolled until it tapped against his skate bag. My hands shook. Subtle, but definitely noticeable. Definitely humiliating.
His brows lifted with something close to amusement, then walked over, and bent to get the tape with all the ease of someone who’d been doing this his whole life—making women lose their composure without even trying.
He held it out to me, and when I made to take it, he didn’t let go. I gave a slight tug, but despite my efforts to the contrary, I gave in and dragged my gaze to meet his. He was blatantly entertained by this. Heat pricked at my cheeks and forced my fingers to tighten around the roll of tape. This time it came when I pulled, and quickly turned to grab the scissors.
Teeth digging into the inside of my lip, I willed my motor skills to stop betraying me and got back to work. It was the last one, and then he’d have to leave. And then I could breathe.
“Relax, Doc,” he said with a light chuckle. “I don’t think of you that way.”
I kept my face arranged in something neutral, even if my heartbeat had other plans. “What way?” The question slipped out before I could shove it back into the professional cage where it belonged.
Theo’s grin widened, and he made a vague gesture between us. “I’m not interested in you. Not my type.”
I ignored the way that shot straight behind my ribs. “Oh, gee, whatever shall I do now that my hopes and dreams of dating an obnoxious hockey player have been dashed?”
The flash behind his eyes almost gave him away, but he countered with another laugh. “And anyway, it’s—”
“Unprofessional,” I finished for him.
“Exactly.” He didn’t look or sound convincing at all. Which was a huge problem.
I tore a fresh strip even though it wasn’t needed, and smacked it against his skin. The tape went on tighter than it needed to. Not enough to injure him, just enough to make him feel it. A whisper of a punishment for the part of the conversation I refused to acknowledge.
“Ow, Jesus.”
I bit back my smile as I secured the tape, smoothing the edges before stepping back. “All done. You can go.”
He searched my face, but I gave him nothing, just turned back to repack my kit bag for the game. Behind me, I heard the usual shuffle and grunts that told me he was pulling back into his compression shirt and took the chance to get my breathing back to normal. To get my mask in place. So that when I faced him again, all this was back to being just a pre-game tape session.
