Page 72 of The Goalie in Room 1

“Yes, Dr. Vale.”

“And use the bench.”

“Yes, Dr. Vale.”

“And keep the brace on until you’re seated.”

“Yes, Dr. Vale.”

“Cover the incisions even though they’re closed.”

“Yes, Dr. Vale.”

“Call me if⁠—”

“If I fall, get dizzy, suddenly forget how showers work, or require a handsome naked physician to provide emergency assistance.”

His eyes flashed.

Then the front of his sweatpants shifted.

My gaze dropped before slowly returning to his face.

Well, hello, Thad.

He looked as if he wanted to walk out of the room and lock himself away until I moved out of his house.

He also looked like he wanted to throw me to the ground, crawl on top of me, and show me exactly how much he liked and wanted my ass.

“Bathroom,” he growled.

I let my smile widen. “Cautiously encouraged, Doc?”

There was nothing cautious about what I was encouraging. He turned away before I could enjoy the full answer written across his face. But I saw the smile, and the lust.

16

THAD

December

“So…when do you decorate for Christmas?”

I grunted, looking over some images the intake team had passed along to me. The junior hockey player needed hip surgery. A torn labrum…maybe more.

“Doc?”

“Hmm?”

Cash’s hand appeared before the tablet. Shit. With a sigh, I looked up at the man leaning against the back of the couch. Instead of the pissed-off, frustrated look I expected, I found a smiling face and a shaking head, as if he found it adorable or something. Swallowing, I said, “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Cash laughed. “Must be an interesting case.”

I nodded. “No excuse.”

“Doc, you’re allowed to be excited about your work. If I were still playing…well…I’m a goalie. We’re a weird bunch, and I took the cake. Game days, especially rivalry games or the playoffs…” He shrugged, then said, “I’d be so zoned in on the game that even an earthquake wouldn’t penetrate. So…no apologies. Besides…your passion and attention to your work and dedication to your patients…? I can’t complain about that, given I’m benefiting from it.”

I wanted to kiss him. More than anything, I wanted to reach out, wrap my hand around his neck, drag him onto my lap, and forget about everything else. The records I pored over were a ruse to keep me from doing something stupid.