Slow Burn (Into The Fire Book 2)

by J. H. Croix

  Alex shifted his weight on his feet, and I knew quite well he was thinking he’d rather not. I didn’t give a damn. Any chance to socialize with Olivia was a firm yes for me. “Bloody perfect. We’d love to go,” I said.

  I glanced to Alex to see him shift his shoulders uncomfortably. He didn’t do things like this often. “We need to see more of Seattle. All we’ve seen so far is downtown and our stadium.” I looked to Olivia to see her fiddling with a napkin. Her dark hair seemed a bit curlier than it had the other day, likely due to the damp rain. A few curls were poking out of the knot atop her head like wild children. One wound around the temple of her glasses, and I itched to reach over and free it.

  Her eyes canted up and collided with mine. I felt as if I’d been punched in the chest, that’s how hard the force of her gaze hit me. Daisy was saying something and I didn’t hear a damn thing. Alex nudged my shoulder, and I managed to look back at Daisy. Her wide brown eyes held a gleam. I sensed she knew perfectly well I was gobsmacked over her friend, but she was kind enough not to tease. “Best of luck with your surgery tomorrow,” she said. “If you’re worried, you don’t need to be. Olivia truly is one of the best. You’ll be back on the field before you know it.”

  I fervently hoped she was right. I had faith in Olivia, but the vagaries of recovering from an injury in sports were well known. That anxiety I’d been trying to beat back started to rear its head again, so I forced myself to talk, anything other than thinking. “I’d say I’ll do my best, but I’ll not be doing much more than lying there. Here’s hoping,” I returned with a lift of my paper coffee cup. Obviously, I’d missed a few steps in the conversation. Alex nodded to Daisy and Olivia. “We’d best be going.” His eyes locked onto Olivia’s. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Oh, you’ll be with Liam?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said gruffly. “Someone’s got to make sure he’s on time,” he added with a sly grin, masking his concern. Alex was my best mate in every sense. He was the one who wouldn’t even think of going about his day without making sure he was there for the start and finish of my surgery. My chest tightened a little. I’d been a bit of an emotional pansy since my mum had died and moments like this brought it out.

  My familiar defense of teasing helped me get through next few. I winked at Daisy and locked eyes with Olivia. “Alright, luv. I expect you to live up to your reputation tomorrow.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and my cock got hard. That’s it. All she had to do was flush, and it was like a bolt of lightning inside me. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said with another slight smile.

  The only reason I managed to leave was Alex nudging my shoulder and walking alongside me on the way out. I ignored the rain as we walked home, my mind bouncing between the disconcerting anxiety about my knee and what could happen to my career if I didn’t recover fully, and thoughts of Olivia. Her bright green eyes, her lush lips and her dark curls. I wanted to see her hair loose with a ferocity that bordered on madness.

  Chapter 6

  Olivia

  I stood in the break room, the surgery clinic’s equivalent of a locker room, and stared into the mirror in my locker. My hair was an unruly mess. Curls had escaped from their knot and were pointing every which way. I quickly untied it and grabbed a brush. A few minutes later, I had the wild locks tamed and tied up in their usual knot. My hair didn’t suit my career. Nothing but a tight knot kept it halfway controlled. In a ponytail, my curls behaved like Medusa. Loose, they were pure madness. When I was operating, I needed nothing in my way, certainly not errant curls getting in my eyes. I occasionally considered cutting it short, but for reasons I didn’t quite understand, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. My mind skipped back a few days to when Liam wrapped one of my curls around his finger. Heat spun in my center. I turned from the mirror and quickly changed out of my surgical uniform.

  Liam’s surgery had gone as smoothly as I’d expected. After a clean repair, I expected him to be back on track to play within three months. I had tried not to think much about the surgery this morning. I was usually calm and unruffled by high pressure surgeries. Yet, Liam made me nervous. Well, maybe not Liam, more my own reaction to him. I wasn’t supposed to worry about the weight of expectations and rarely did. In Liam’s case, what kept spinning through my mind was the flicker of fear deep in his eyes when I’d spoken about his surgery the day I met him. His career was central to his life, as it was to most professional athletes. With him, it felt as if I’d be personally letting him down if I didn’t live up to the trust he’d placed in me to make his knee right again.

  Then, there was the way he looked at me. Oh, and the fact he kissed me and I could hardly stop thinking about it. In fact, I’d had a few hot and bothered fantasies about those strong hands of his all over my body. Just now, here in the sterile break room that doubled as a changing room for surgeons and where anyone could walk in, I flushed straight through. I could feel the slick heat between my thighs and took a shaky breath. The effect Liam had on me was getting ridiculous. I wished he hadn’t kissed me. Better yet, I wished I’d had the will to shove him away. As it was, I hadn’t. All I could do was be grateful I’d managed to keep my cool and operate as I always did. Now came the hard part. I needed to check on him in the recovery room and have a few follow up appointments over the next few weeks. Once those were done, I could turn him over the nursing and physical therapy team.

  I was rattled by how much I wanted him. It was all made worse by the fact that I’d never been this attracted to anyone. I’d been so confident in my ability not to be affected by men that I felt like a fool. All Liam had to do was exist in my presence, and my body was electrified with heat and need. With a mental shake, I tugged on a clean set of scrubs and walked down the hall toward the recovery room. Our facility offered private recovery rooms for all patients, a perk most clinics didn’t provide. As I got closer to the door to Liam’s room, my pulse picked up and heat spun inside. This was beyond ridiculous. I was checking on a patient. It was completely inappropriate to be thinking or feeling anything about him. My body had other ideas.

  I entered the room to find Liam’s friend Alex slouched in a chair by the bed. He looked up, his brown hair mussed. For the first time, I noticed how he looked. Like Liam, he had a body of pure muscle. He was taller and exuded a powerful sense of quiet. I knew from Daisy that Alex was considered one of the best goalkeepers in the world. I could see why, not because I’d ever seen him play, but more because of the sense of calm alertness he gave off. I doubted he ever lost focus. He stood and gave his shoulders a shake as he rounded the foot of the bed.

  I met him there and quickly tapped the screen at the foot of the bed, which contained the data from Liam’s vitals in the hour since the surgery. “Everything looks good,” I said, keeping my voice low.

  I looked up into Alex’s brown eyes to see him nodding. “Good then,” he said.

  “Bloody hell. You two don’t have to whisper.”

  Alex and I swung in unison to look toward Liam. He looked groggy, as he should, but he was definitely awake. Reflexively, I stepped to the side of the bed, resting a hand on his hip. Alex went to the other side of the bed and looked down at Liam.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Thirsty,” Liam replied. Even groggy from surgery, he managed a slight grin.

  I turned to the table by his bed and quickly poured a small cup of water. As he took it from me, a phone rang. Well, it didn’t actually ring. A song erupted—to be specific, the Beatles, All You Need is Love. Liam’s weak grin expanded.

  Alex muttered something and yanked his phone out. “It’s Dr. Monroe,” he said, flicking his eyes from the screen to Liam and I. “He’ll be expecting an update.”

  “Go ahead and tell him the surgery went well, and I’ll call him later,” I replied.

  Alex nodded and turned away to answer the phone, stepping to the windows as he did. I glanced down at Liam. “I suspect he’ll want to stop by. He cal
led this morning requesting to come by before your prep. I turned him away.”

  Liam’s eyes widened. He gulped the remainder of water in the cup I’d handed him and set it on the bed. I reached to move it to the table, but he caught my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “I bloody love how bossy you are.”

  I flushed and tried to distract myself with a stern look at him. “Now is not the time to flirt, Liam.” Desperate to distract myself from how easily he affected me, I collected my thoughts and focused on the practical matters. “Aside from thirsty, how are you feeling?”

  “Fuzzy. Not a bit of pain, not even a wee bit. I suppose this nice woozy feeling will pass though.”

  “Soon enough. You shouldn’t have too much pain though. Like I said, the tear wasn’t too bad. You’ll have some soreness and then you’ll need to take it easy for a few days before you start physical therapy.”

  For a flash, uncertainty flickered in the back of Liam’s bright blue eyes. This man—this cocky, swoon-worthy man who’d spun me in circles inside and kissed me senseless—elicited a sudden pang of empathy from me. I could only guess at how frightening this experience must be for him. It wasn’t about the pain. A meniscus tear was by no means a life-threatening medical issue, yet for a man whose life was built on his physical prowess and athletic skill, well, it held the potential to thwart his entire career.

  I didn’t realize I gave his hand a squeeze until I felt him squeeze in return. At that moment, Alex turned back from the windows. “Dr. Monroe said he’s coming by and he doesn’t give a damn if you want him to wait,” Alex said, his eyes on me.

  I slipped my hand free from Liam’s, suddenly aware of just how unprofessional it was to be squeezing his hand. Wishing I wasn’t so prone to blushing, I swallowed and nodded. Normally, I’d be flat annoyed with Dr. Monroe, but I was off kilter due to Liam’s effect on me. I looked down to Liam. “Is that okay with you? If not…”

  “Don’t you worry. I can handle Dr. Monroe,” Liam said, his tone cheeky.

  How a man who was half out of it from anesthesia managed to be cheeky, I didn’t know. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Fine then. I’ll stay with him while he’s here.”

  Alex rested his hip on the far side of the bed. “I like you, Dr. Bowen,” he announced suddenly.

  Puzzled at his comment, I looked over at him. Before I spoke, he continued. “You’re making sure Liam comes first, not the team. That’s why.” He glanced to Liam. “You need to stop teasing her, mate. She’s your doctor,” he said, his voice somber. His intent gaze swung back to me. “Don’t mind him, he can’t help himself sometimes.”

  Liam leaned his head back against the pillows and sighed mightily. “Alex acts like my mum sometimes. That’s why he’s my best mate,” he said matter-of-factly.

  At that, his eyes closed, and he promptly fell asleep.

  I looked across at Alex and wondered if he sensed I was tossed asunder inside. Here I was, completely accustomed to keeping my cool at all times around athletes of all stripes, and I all a twitter inside over Liam. I wondered if Alex’s warning was as much for me as Liam.

  Chapter 7

  Liam

  I looked over at Coach and fought the urge to roll my eyes. His steely gaze met mine. “You’ll be here every other practice to observe and meet with the team and that’s final,” Coach said firmly.

  It had been a full two weeks since my surgery, and I was bored with sitting on the sidelines at practices. Coach didn’t appear to give a damn. One of the things I liked about him was his absolute commitment to a team mindset. Right about now, that commitment meant he expected me to drag my sorry arse here every other day since I was part of the team.

  “You’re not just a player on this team, you’re a leader. Act like it,” Coach said, his words hitting me right in my chest.

  I swallowed against the tight feeling in my throat. I didn’t like thinking about how much this bloody knee injury had shaken my confidence. I hadn’t helped lead my last team to a championship by questioning myself. It was brutal to watch the team practice and watch hours of practice tapes, knowing I wouldn’t be back in play for another two months at best. Coach’s confidence in me, and faith I’d have a full recovery was hard to accept. I took a breath and met his gaze with a nod. I’d fake it to make it if I had to.

  Coach leaned back in his chair and picked up a snow globe on his desk. He idly turned it in his hands. He was so damn perceptive, it made me want to squirm in my seat, so I was relieved to have him look away finally. I flexed and straightened my knee slightly, noticing the soreness was minimal.

  Coach’s voice startled me. “We haven’t spoken of it, but I’m sorry about your mother.”

  What the hell? I had no idea why Coach chose now to mention my mum. Rubbing salt in the wound was how it felt. I was stumbling, literally and figuratively, around these days, and he had to go and pick now to talk about her. My heart gave a painfully hard thump, and my throat tightened again. I missed her. So damn much. I closed my eyes and blinked back the hot tears pressing there. Bloody hell. I couldn’t cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Coach. For once, I honed in on the lingering soreness in my knee. Most of the time, I preferred to pretend it didn’t hurt. But right now, that bit of physical pain was preferable to thinking about my mum and the stroke that had stolen her from us. After another moment, I managed to get a handle on myself and opened my eyes.

  Coach’s gaze was no longer steely, but rather understanding. He was quiet and then nodded, almost as if to himself. “I know a bit about losing someone. I know it worries you that it’s affected your concentration. Maybe it has. Can’t say because I wasn’t your coach before. From what I know of you, you’re a good man and you loved your mother—that much is obvious. You can’t turn back the clock. All you can do is move forward with your eye on the ball, so to speak. You’re a helluva a player. If you have any weakness, it’s you don’t draw deep because you never had to. Think on that while you’ve some downtime.”

  At that, he stood. He didn’t speak it aloud, but it was clear he understood I didn’t have it in me to respond to him right now. I managed to stand slowly and snagged my crutches on the way down the long hall from his office.

  A few hours later, I waited in a chair at Olivia’s clinic. I’d been flat out running in my mind ever since Coach had met with me. Confused and casting about for what the hell he’d meant about me needing to ‘draw deep,’ I’d zoned in on thinking about Olivia. She was a most efficient distraction because she’d been driving me beyond mad. I’d had two appointments with her since the surgery, and she’d been nothing but calm, cool and professional in both despite the air fairly humming with electricity around us. I meant to have her, and I would.

  The door to her examining room opened, and another patient exited. Olivia caught my eyes and held a finger up before turning back into the room. She was a bossy one and expected people to follow her orders. I surmised she meant for me to wait, so I didn’t. I stood and walked carefully to the examination room. I was using crutches most of the time, but left them leaning up against the wall. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere.

  When I stepped through the door, Olivia was pulling a fresh sheet of paper from the rollers onto the table. I thanked the stars she hadn’t heard me. The rustle of the paper kept her from hearing me quietly close the door. Finally having a moment alone with her sent a lash of lust through me. With her leaning over the table, her delectable bottom was outlined for me. She wore a skirt today, which I liked. Quite a lot. It was a simple fitted skirt that came to her knees, nothing even the slightest bit scandalous about it. But I could imagine shoving it up over her hips and getting a taste of her. She straightened and turned, her eyes widening when she saw me. She wore a white lab coat over her skirt with a blue shirt underneath that stretched tight across her breasts. Oh, it was something to see her out of her scrubs. It wasn’t as if she was dressed to impress, it was just that she tempted me beyond all reason. My cock was rock hard and ready,
and she hadn’t done a thing.

  Her cheeks flushed, and she reached up to adjust her glasses and brush a random curl out of her eyes. “Liam…” She started to speak, but trailed off after she said my name. I waited, leashing the urge to step to her, lift her onto the table and slide my hands up her legs. She cleared her throat and gave her head a little shake. “How’s the knee feeling?” she asked, her words crisp and clear.

  “Right as rain.” I closed the distance between us, stopping beside the table where her hip rested against it. “I hear from my PT guy that this is my last appointment with you unless I experience a delay in my recovery.” I knew I was standing a tad too close for her comfort, but I wanted to rattle her composure. There was that and this overwhelming need to be as close as possible to her. She was a challenge I wanted to win. I also craved being able to lose myself in the raw need she elicited. It was about the only thing that took my mind off worrying about my professional playing and Coach’s out of the blue comments about losing my mum.

  I looked down at her and before I knew it, I lifted my hand and trailed a fingertip down her cheek. Her skin was like silk, and the soft flush on her cheeks against her creamy complexion sent a blast of heat through me. She reached up and adjusted her glasses again. Once I’d touched her, I couldn’t stop, so my finger trailed down her cheek and along her neck, brushing past the wild flutter of her pulse, which sent a wash of satisfaction through me. “I think we discussed that you didn’t have to worry about me being your patient soon,” I said, my voice coming out low and gruff.

  Olivia’s green eyes slammed into mine as she shook her head. “Liam… We didn’t… We didn’t discuss anything like that. You did, but I didn’t. This isn’t…I can’t…” Her words came in fits and starts, her cheeks flushing deeper by the second.

  I knew it bothered her to have me pursuing her, and not only did I not give a damn, but the naughtier she thought it was, the more I wanted her. I also knew, somewhere deep down inside, that the desire between us was like no other, and I had to experience it.