Playing Again: A Quick Snap Novella

by Anna Edwards

  Zeke is on his feet in an instant. He places the crutch down on the floor and starts to walk. I watch him intently, switching my gaze between his face and his leg to check for any signs of discomfort. He’s either a tremendous actor, or indeed, he’s not in any pain. I note my observations down and get to my feet.

  “Was that okay?” he asks with a smirk on his face. “Or would you like me to do it again?”

  “That was fine,” I reply flatly, not giving away any indication of my opinion. “Now I want you to remove your pants and lie down on the bed over there. I’m going to do the ultrasound and then massage the hamstring to check on the tightness. After that, we’ll talk about where you are with your recovery and what the next steps are. Mark my words, though, you will only be doing the exercises I give you otherwise you’ll be doing more harm than good, and I’m not going to let that happen. If you don’t get to play the Super Bowl this year, you will at least be back next year to help your team win it.”

  Zeke opens his mouth like he’s going to argue with me, but he doesn’t. He goes over to the bed and lowers his pants. I turn away. My panties are already ruined. I don’t need the vision of Zeke’s ass in tight underwear.

  When I turn back, he’s lying on the bed, and the vision is even worse or should I say better than I thought. I’ll be needing my faithful vibrator later. Zeke’s lying on his back with only his underwear on, and they leave little to the imagination. I cough with embarrassment, and reaching for my cold coffee, I take a sip to try to cool my overactive libido.

  “There wasn’t any need to remove your shirt, and I need you to roll over.”

  I move forward and try to remain professional as I fetch the cold gel from the cabinet and squirt it on his thigh. Zeke doesn’t even flinch at the cool temperature. He reaches back and grabs my hand.

  “How about we make a deal?”

  “Deal?” I squeak, and he smirks again.

  “Yes. You want me to obey you and do whatever exercises you give me because you know what’s best…”

  “I do know best,” I interrupt.

  “I never said you didn’t.” He licks his lips, and I want to kiss them. All the old memories are flooding back. “As I was saying. I’m single—and you’re single?” It’s a question, and I nod. “Good, then I’ll do what you tell me to because I trust you to get me back on the field for this year's Super Bowl, but only if you come out on a date with me. I don’t know what’s been happening since I walked in this room, but whatever we had eight years ago is still there, and I’m a firm believer in second chances. So what do you say?”

  It doesn’t take me long to answer. “Yes, but first, let me do my job.”

  I raise a telling eyebrow at him.

  Zeke chuckles. “I’m all yours, Dr. Smith.”

  Chapter 2

  Zeke

  “I’ve not been here in ages,” Arabella exclaims as we pull up at the restaurant.

  It’s one of my favorites in Seattle. I’d no hesitation in booking a table here when I asked Arabella out. The food is delicious, especially the fishmonger’s stew. The ambience and decor is unmatched as well, in my opinion. Wooden cladding gives it an old school but equally modern vibe.

  I find a parking space and help Arabella out of the car. I can’t quite believe she’s the new therapist for the team. It’s always been one of my regrets, losing contact with her. Walking into the room, expecting to see Dr. Burrell but finding Arabella was a big shock. I spent most of the time trying not to get hard. She was wearing scrubs, but there was still a hint of her stunning body beneath. The worst part was when she massaged my leg. I damn near came in my underwear.

  As a football player, I’m naturally superstitious. I’m sure Arabella has come back into my life for a reason. Maybe it’s for a second chance, or maybe it’s just to get me to the Super Bowl where Dr. Burrell was failing, but whatever it is, I’m going to use the opportunity to get to know her better.

  On entering the restaurant, we’re immediately shown through to my usual table. It’s in a quiet and secluded area. I pull a chair out for Arabella, and she sits down.

  “What’s your favorite dish?” she asks.

  “I’ll have the fishmonger’s stew. They know my order by now.” I laugh and point to the dish on the menu.

  “A regular entertainer of women then.” Arabella winks playfully at me as the waitress arrives at our table.

  “I wish. Not everything you read about footballers is true.” I shrug.

  The waitress laughs as well.

  “I can assure you, Miss, Mr. Humphreys comes in here every Thursday evening and sits alone with his fishmonger’s stew and a beer. He eats either the rich chocolate pudding or the mocha fudge ice-cream for dessert, and before he goes home, he leaves a generous tip, which provides a treat for my family at the weekend.”

  I sit back in my chair, looking smug at the waitress’s words.

  “See.” I wink at Arabella.

  “Thank you for telling me,” the beautiful woman sitting opposite me responds with a laugh.

  It’s a lovely sound. It was the first thing that attracted me to her in high school. I heard her laugh one day and had to seek her out. She had the biggest smile on her face and was chatting animatedly with her friends. I made it my mission to get to know her better, and eventually, we started dating.

  “No problem,” the waitress replies. “Zeke’s a good guy. Anyway, I’ve sucked up enough to him now. What can I get you both?”

  “You know my order,” I answer first.

  Arabella looks down at the menu again. “I think I’ll have the stew as it comes highly recommended, and I’ll take a glass of Merlot as well.”

  “Thank you.” The waitress types our order into her electronic keyboard and disappears.

  A few minutes later, someone arrives with our drinks, and we’re then left alone to wait for our food. I sit back in my seat and swallow a mouthful of my beer.

  “How long have you played for Seattle?” Arabella asks after taking a sip of her wine.

  “I’ve never played anywhere else. Seattle drafted me straight from college. I was lucky because I really didn’t want to play for any other team. This place is my home, and I’d have been gutted if I’d had to leave it. As it is, I get a bit antsy if we travel away for longer than a couple days.”

  “I must admit I missed it while I was studying. I went to the sports program at the University of California. It was an amazing opportunity. It’s one of the best programs in the country, but I was glad when I finished and got the job here in Seattle with Dr. Burrell. He offered me a fantastic on-the-job training package. The only one similar was in New York. I would have hated being that far from the West Coast.”

  I chuckle into my beer. “We’re both Emerald City people at heart.”

  “We are.” Arabella holds her wine glass out, and I knock my beer against it in a toast.

  “I’m going to need to learn a bit more about football with my promotion. I can’t believe I even had to ask you when the Super Bowl was taking place. I’m sure most people in this country are born knowing the date.” Arabella places her wine down and rests her elbows on the table with her head in her hands.

  She really is stunning. Her eyes are a beautiful sapphire color. With her scrubs now gone and replaced with a pair of tight, black jeans and a pink top, I can see she really looks after her body. As a professional athlete, I like someone who can share in my love of exercise but also chill out, once in a while, and eat as much junk food as possible.

  “I’ll forgive you this once,” I respond. “I remember you attending one of my games when we were in high school. You looked confused the entire time.”

  “I just don’t understand football. Tennis is much easier.”

  I can’t help but laugh at her comment. Tennis probably has as many obscure rules as football does, but I’ll let her get away with it for now.

  Our meal arrives, and I thank the waitress. I still have half my beer left. I’ll only d
rink one, as I’m driving, but Arabella has nearly finished her wine while we’ve been talking. I order another glass for her, and we settle down to eat.

  I moan loudly as the first bite of the fish stew hits my tastebuds. The freshly caught clams, mussels, shrimp, and calamari are mixed with salmon, crab, and coconut. It’s like a summer holiday in a bowl.

  Arabella moans as well, and I feel myself harden in my jeans. The sound is soft and perfect, and one I remember from when I had my hands down her panties after school one day. Her pussy was warm and tight around my finger. It was a big regret I never got to introduce my dick to her, but the time wasn’t right. Fate has shown us that.

  “This is good. I can’t believe I haven’t been here in so long. I’m going to have to change that.”

  “You can always join me on one of my regular Thursday night visits,” I tease.

  “Only if you’re still listening to me about doing your exercises.” Arabella raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Spoilsport.”

  Even though we’re joking about me listening to her, I plan on doing just that. In the short session this afternoon, she spoke so much sense. I can see it will take a miracle to get me back playing in time for the Super Bowl. My injury is bad, but Dr. Burrell was taking it too slow. Maybe he was worried about his wife’s health and had lost concentration when it came to his job. Arabella is a blessing, and I’ll listen to her every word. She knows what she’s talking about.

  I turn serious for a moment. There’s a question I’ve wanted to ask since I saw her again for the first time in eight years.

  “Why do you think we drifted apart after high school, Arabella?”

  She places her fork down on the side of her plate and looks up at me.

  “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I didn’t meet anyone else, did you?”

  I shake my head. “No, I spent most of my time training or at the gym.”

  “That’s probably the reason it happened, not just for you but for me also. Our priorities changed. We wanted to consolidate our futures in this crazy world, and it required our complete devotion. After a while, it just became too difficult to call each other because it had been too long. Then, numbers changed, people moved, and our worlds became separated until we collided again the other day.”

  She picks her fork up again and pops another mouthful of the stew between her plump, pink colored lips.

  “Very philosophical, and I agree. It wasn’t our time then, but it could be now. If you want to try that is? I wasn’t joking when I said you could join me here every Thursday. It’d be nice to have company, and I want to get to know you again.”

  She continues to eat her meal, leaving me waiting for an answer. She doesn’t take her eyes off me the entire time, though, as she chews and swallows her food.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Good, it’s a date next week then.” I sit back in my seat smiling happily.

  “It is, but only if you do your exercises,” Arabella quickly adds.

  “I’m going to be known as the teacher’s pet before I get back on the field.”

  I finish the last few mouthfuls of my meal and wipe around the sides of the bowl with some bread the waitress brought us.

  “Shall we get the obvious questions out of the way now?” Arabella asks, and I look up at her in confusion. “About the people we’ve dated since high school? I mean we never reached home plate together, but have you with anyone else?” Her cheeks go bright red when she finishes speaking, and I find it really endearing.

  “Honest answer?” I push my plate aside and finish my beer.

  “Yes.”

  “All right, I lost my virginity to a girl in college. It was a party, and it wasn’t anything special, but it was sort of the thing to do at the time. When I started at Seattle, I got attracted to the limelight at first. I had a few one-night stands but nothing more. I’ve not really had a full-time relationship since, well, us.”

  Arabella nods. “I can see how getting caught up in the fame would be difficult to handle at first. At least as a sports therapist, I don’t have to deal with any of that.”

  “I don’t know. If you work a few miracles with some of the players, I’m sure you’ll soon be in popular demand.”

  “I’ll concentrate on you first.”

  The waitress returns to collect our empty dishes, and we both place an order for the rich chocolate pudding.

  “Come on, I’ve told you my history. How about yours?”

  “It’s nothing special. I was dating a guy in my class at college for a bit. We went all the way. It was all right but nothing special, as you say. Our relationship didn’t go anywhere after I caught him cheating on me with one of our professors. Turns out he was going to flunk out and had hoped to pass by dating me and using my knowledge. When that didn’t work, he propositioned the teacher instead. It was all a bit of a mess at the time. I’ve kind of avoided men since then and just concentrated on my work. It’s probably why I’m now one of the best paid sports therapists in the city.”

  I feel myself getting angry at the jerk who dicked Arabella around. If I ever find him, I’ll make him regret what he did. She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. She’s special.

  “It’s all right.” Arabella must sense my anger, and she reaches across the table and takes my hand. “He got what was coming to him. He was dumped out of university and his parents’ house when they found out what he’d done.”

  I can’t help but smile at the retribution. I’d still kick his ass for hurting her, though.

  “Justice is served.”

  “In the meantime, I’ve become good acquaintances with my battery operated friend. Shit, I didn’t mean to say that. It’s that second glass of wine. It’s loosened my tongue.”

  “Are you drunk?” I’m curious as an idea hits me.

  “No, not at all. It takes a lot more than two glasses of wine. I’m not a cheap date.”

  I pick up on the word she uses.“Date. So you’re confirming this is a date?” I tease and lean forward in my chair so I’m closer to her. Arabella does the same.

  The old sexual tension is burning between us. I’m surprised the other people in the restaurant can’t feel the heat as well.

  “It’s a date.” She licks her lips, and my desire takes over.

  “So you’ve not had an orgasm since college that you haven’t given yourself?”

  “No,” she replies coyly.

  “Want to reach second base tonight? Remind ourselves of the old times?”

  Arabella’s eyes go wide, but I can see the lust blossoming in them.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Go to the bathroom, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

  A part of me doesn’t expect her to move. It expects her to stay rooted to the chair and slap me across the face, but she doesn’t. Slowly taking her napkin from her lap, she folds it and places it on the table before getting up.

  “Don’t be long,” she semi-whispers and walks off with a seductive sway of her hips.

  Chapter 3

  Arabella

  This is totally out of character for me, normally I’d slap Zeke across the face and tell him to go to hell, but my heart’s beating so fast I’m pretty certain it’s about to pop out of my chest. I want to do this…I need to do this. I’ve needed Zeke’s hands in my panties since he walked into my office, which is why I wore my best ones tonight. I wasn’t going to say no if he asked me to go home with him. I’m a consenting adult after all, and Zeke is single, handsome and completely honest from what I can remember.

  I try to give my hips a seductive wiggle as I walk to the bathroom, but my legs actually feel as though they’re going to give way. I’ve never done anything like this before. The sex I had in college was very much in the bedroom with the lights turned off. I should have realized something was wrong with the relationship right from the start.

  I make it to the bathroom and check to see if anyone else is in here. Thankfully it’s
empty. I find a stall and wait, my heart thumping out of my chest. It doesn’t take long for Zeke to arrive with a cocky grin on his face. He firmly closes the main door to the bathroom and prowls toward me. I’m on the verge of losing my nerve.

  “What if someone comes in?” I question as he backs me farther into my chosen stall.

  “They won’t,” he replies confidently.

  “Zeke…” I start to protest, but he silences me with a deep and penetrating kiss to the mouth. Any hope I had of chickening out vanishes as I melt into his embrace.

  “I’m not going to have sex with you for the first time in the toilets of a restaurant,” I insist, wanting to make a point and trying to regain some control over my body, which is currently telling me to climb Zeke like he’s a big tree and hump away until morning.

  “Good, I don’t want our first time to be in a toilet stall either. Besides, even though we’ve hit first base already, you only agreed to let me get to second tonight. Third and fourth can wait for a while. I’m a gentleman after all.”

  “Oh, okay.” I can hear the disappointment in my voice, and Zeke laughs—his breath is warm against my face.

  “I just want in your panties, Dr. Smith. I want to hear you come and feel your release soaking my fingers as I thrust them inside you. How do you feel about that? I’m sure my sports therapist would recommend that sort of exercise. My fingers have been feeling a bit stiff like the rest of me lately.”

  I don't have any time to think about my answer. My panties are already soaked, and my entire body feels like it’s balancing on a knife edge, waiting to topple over and explode.

  “Your therapist wholeheartedly agrees.”

  Zeke turns me around so that my back is pressed against him. I can feel his erection hard in his jeans. He smells of a spicy aftershave, and I tilt my head back to get a better appreciation of the scent.