The doctor finishes up his exam and takes his gloves off. “I agree with the hospital’s diagnosis. I don’t see why he can’t play. I don’t see any signs of concussion or other limiting injuries.”
“Great.” Hawke is clearly relieved. “So, what? Have him get some treatments and then rest?”
“I think that’s the best idea. I’ll talk to Chad and come up with a plan.”
We both go for our own treatments and finish about the same time.
“I’m going to practice. Then I’ll be back. Is that okay?” I don’t want to leave him if he’s still not dealing well.
He takes his AirPod out. “It’s okay. Then we can go to the team dinner together and be captains. I’m sure the team needs it before tomorrow.”
He’s not wrong, and I quickly see that in practice. Everyone is worried about him and disjointed on the ice. They need their captain, and while I wear the C on the ice because he can’t as the goalie, it’s really him.
I shower after practice and put on regular clothes before I go to the trainer’s area to see if Wolfe is done.
His eyes light up when he sees me and then pull into a frown.
I glance behind me to make sure Mark didn’t walk in, but it’s just me. “What did I do?”
“You know what you did.” He lets them take the heat off his neck and gets up but doesn’t put his shirt back on. “Ready?”
“What did I do?” I wait for him to get dressed, but he doesn’t.
“Let’s go.” The mother fucker walks toward the door.
“What did I do? And why are you shirtless?”
“You don’t get to be the only one teasing.”
“How am I teasing?” I gesture at my fully dressed self.
“Dressing like you do every day. You know you have half the room looking at you, and it’s particularly rude when I can’t fuck you.”
“Most aren’t looking because they like it.” But I’m smiling.
“They are wrong or lying to themselves.” He huffs and still doesn’t put his shirt on.
“Whatever. At least I have clothes on. You’re on full display.” And I want him. I hate how much I want him. But I never want the feeling to go away.
“All of your abs are showing.”
“All of them, huh?” I ask fighting a smile.
“Yes, literally.”
“Well, your tits are out,” I throw back.
“I’m going to buy a bunch of shirts that only cover my nipples.”
“Oh no, my hot boyfriend will only be covering his nipples and leaving the rest for me to look at all day. What will I do?” I can’t say it with a straight face, and once again, Wolfe takes his hoodie and forcefully puts it on me.
“I never went to kindergarten and never learned to share. So I’m keeping my snack to myself today.” He then puts his own shirt on carefully.
It’s pretty toxic and probably wrong. I love it.
“This isn’t going to be a problem all the time, right? Because no man is going to tell me what I can wear,” I say as we walk out.
“It’s only a problem when I can’t have and mark what’s mine.” He puts his arm around me, dragging me close for a minute.
