“And quiet,” he said, pausing to give Bash some water.
They’d hiked down to the beach to let Bash run around, before walking up one of the coastal trails, away from most of the scenic spots you could get to by car. “It’s crazy busy up here once the fog burns off. Everyone wants to see the Golden Gate and other vistas. Parking can be a total nightmare, so I always like to arrive and park before 10:00 a.m.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never been here. It’s so close to the city,” she said, looking out over the water. “And there’s no tree coverage, so the views are endless.”
“You can get an amazing view of the Bridge from the Lighthouse, but they don’t allow dogs down there,” he said, sweeping his hand down Bash’s back.
“Maybe another time,” she said, and he hoped her next visit was with him. “But, this is great. Ankle still doing well?”
“Of course. You know it’s basically healed. They wouldn’t let me back on the ice if it wasn’t.” He’d met with Dr. Jonas a few days before, and he had been given the all clear to strap his skates back on.
“I know. I just don’t want you to aggravate it.”
“You just don’t want our appointments to end,” he said, stalking toward her. “It’s okay. I understand.” He pulled her into his arms, and she huffed in annoyance, but didn’t push him away.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, catching him by surprise. She ducked out of his arms before he could recover and tighten his hold. “Now, let’s finish this hike. And maybe you could take me out for lunch. I’m starving.”
Progress.
He would not pump his fist or pull her back in for another kiss. “I think she likes us,” he said to Bash, then followed after her along a steep stretch back to their cars.
“Now be careful, it’s extra rocky here,” she said a short while later as they navigated through the path.
“It’s fine. You worry too much,” he said, leaning in to kiss her when she got too close. Her warm breath washed over his cheek when she pulled away to scold him.
She poked him in the chest. “Stop causing trouble,” she teased, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
He stepped back and felt the twinge in his injured foot as he landed awkwardly between two rocks.
“Son of a bitch,” he burst out.
Sophia’s eyes widened in panic. “What happened?” she asked.
He pressed his weight down on his foot, cursing himself as it throbbed in pain.
“I stepped wrong on some rocks,” he bit out, pissed at himself.
“Finn, I told you to be careful,” she said, crouching down to push up his pants and touch his ankle.
“I know,” he gritted out, not needing a reminder.
Bash trotted over and nudged his head under Finn’s clenched fist. “It’s okay, buddy,” he said, trying to reassure his dog, and not curse himself for his stupidity.
“Can you walk on it?” she asked, standing and brushing her hands over her thighs.
“Yes. I can walk,” he barked out, immediately regretting his tone, but unable to stop his frustration from coming out.
“There’s no need to be a jerk about it. I’m trying to help,” she said, her irritation at his response clear.
“I know. And I’m just mad at myself. This is going to set me back, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. You might be swollen tonight and tomorrow. Hopefully it’s just a minor strain. I’ll have a better idea on Monday during your appointment.” She was pulling away.
“Sophia,” he started, grabbing her hand, which she quickly tugged away.
“At least we’re almost to the parking lot. Can you drive yourself? You should make sure to ice your ankle as soon as you get home. Hopefully the swelling won’t be too bad.”
“Sophia, I’m sorry for lashing out.”
“It’s fine. I get it. You wanted to stick to your schedule and get back on the ice this week,” she said, standing straight and looking toward the path, her eyes not meeting his.
He was an asshole.
“It’s not fine,” he said, putting his finger under her chin and forcing her to look at him. “I’m sorry. I had no right to be so short with you.”
“I get it. I really do. We should get you back.”
He followed at a slow pace behind her, hoping that he hadn’t damaged his ankle, or what was happening between them.
Shit. He’d been so close.
Chapter 12
“I’m going to swing into your appointment with Finn shortly,” Dr. Anders said, when Sophia stopped into her office a few minutes before Finn was scheduled to arrive Monday afternoon.
“Sure. Anything wrong?” Sophia asked. She’d been nervous for this appointment since he’d tweaked his ankle during their hike this past weekend. The walk back to the parking lot had been slow and painfully quiet. She understood his brusque response, but she also didn’t appreciate getting snapped at when she was just trying to help.
Not to mention she felt slightly guilty. Maybe if she hadn’t teased him or kissed him, he would’ve been paying better attention to where he was putting his feet. And then that reiterated the fact that she was kissing a patient, which lead to professional guilt.
Stop it.
She focused back on her boss, who was looking at her quizzically. Shit. Had she asked Sophia a question?
“Sorry. Thinking about something my last patient asked me right before we finished up,” she said, focusing on her boss and not the man who would be walking into the office within minutes.
“Since Finn has been cleared to get back on the ice, I wanted to see how he was feeling. Your reports look great, and I know Dr. Jonas was pleased with Finn’s progress and our timing. Which is great, by the way. Our relationship with the team is very important so I’m pleased with how you are working with Finn,” Dr. Anders said.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Oh god, she had to stop kissing him. Please let his ankle be fine.
“Sure. I know he’s happy to get his skates back on.” Wow. Who’s calm voice was that?
“I bet. I’ll swing by in about ten minutes.”
“Great.” Sophia wondered how false her smile looked as she left Dr. Anders’ office.
“He’s already in room three,” one of the interns said as Sophia headed in that direction.
“Thanks Josh,” she said, before stopping in front of the door and taking in a deep breath. She knocked quickly, and at hearing the muffled enter, she walked into the room.
“Hello, Sophia,” he said as soon as the door shut behind her. His voice did things to her stomach, fluttering, warming things. Dammit.
“Hi,” she said, then set her tablet on the counter. “How’s the ankle today?”
“It’s fine.” He moved toward her, and she stiffened.
“I wanted to apologize again. I was an ass this weekend, and I’m sorry for snapping at you.” He reached out, trailing his thumb over her palm, but she pulled free.
“Finn. We can’t. And I get it,” she said, shifting away from him. “So, your ankle.”
“It did swell up like you said, but the swelling is almost gone, and I’m walking around fine. Please don’t push me away because of how I acted. It was a gut reaction, and I’m sorry.”
“I know. And it’s not that. Dr. Anders is coming in to check on you in a few minutes.”
He grinned. “Got it.”
He hopped up on the exam table and stretched out his legs. She would not focus on his thighs. Why were they so big and inviting? Not that thighs were typically inviting.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his finger tracing along her warm cheeks, when she stepped within reach.
“Stop it,” she said, batting his hand away. “She’ll be here any minute.” She tried to will away her flush. She did not want to explain that to her boss.
“It’s going to be fine. The swelling is basically gone, and I feel great.”
�
�What swelling?” Dr. Anders’ voice cut through. Hell, Sophia hadn’t even heard the woman knock. She turned as her boss walked over to the exam table and pushed down Finn’s sock, pressing against his ankle.
“Uh, I had a small accident this weekend. Just a slip during a hike. Swelled up a little, but I think I’m still good to get on the ice tomorrow,” he said.
“Days before you are strapping your skates on, and you injured yourself hiking? Not the smartest of ideas,” Dr. Anders said.
“Probably not, but the swelling is basically gone, and I feel great,” he said. Sophia met his eyes, reading the nerves in the bright blue depths. Sophia was grateful that he hadn’t told her boss that he’d been hiking with her this past weekend.
“Sophia, I want you to run Finn through all of his standard exercises and we’ll see if the swelling comes back, or if he’s in pain.” Then she stared straight at Finn. “And you better be honest.”
“I will.”
“As long as he’s not in any pain, and the swelling is gone, I think he can get back on the ice later this week,” she said, and Sophia didn’t miss Finn’s sigh of relief.
“Thanks Dr. Anders,” Finn said before she left the room.
“You’re so lucky you didn’t really injure yourself again,” Sophia said as soon as the door shut behind her boss.
“You know it’s your fault I tweaked it again.”
“What? How is that possible?”
“I was trying to kiss you, and you pulled away.”
“Seriously? You cannot blame this on me. We shouldn’t be kissing anyway,” she muttered, then she let out a gasp as he spun to sit sideways on the exam table and pulled her between his legs.
“Yes. We should,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. She sank into his arms on instinct.
Bolts of desire shot through her, and she couldn’t get close enough to him. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, darting in as she gasped, tangling with her tongue. He should not taste this good, and she shouldn’t think about how much she wanted to climb onto the exam table with him.
“Finn, we have to stop,” she said, breaking free of the kiss and stepping out of his arms.
“Have dinner with me, and I’ll stop kissing you.”
“No. Now, we are going to work on plyometric exercises in the workout room today,” she said, grabbing her tablet and acting as professional as possible. She saw him smirk.
“Can’t keep your hands off of me when we’re in a room alone?”
“I swear, this cocky side of you is annoying,” she grumbled.
“You bring it out in me.”
“Let’s see how you’re feeling after a few rounds on the Bosu ball,” she said, holding the door open for him.
He brushed every inch of himself that he could against her body as he walked through the door, and she held back her shudder.
Bastard.
***
An hour later, Sophia swung by Dr. Anders’ office to go over her notes. Finn had left ten minutes ago and her next appointment wasn’t for another thirty minutes. He hadn’t attempted to kiss her again. Most likely due to him cursing her for all the balancing and jumping exercises she had him do. His box jump was almost as high as what he used to do before he’d broken his ankle. He’d been ridiculously proud of that, and it’d been adorable.
It’d taken every ounce of her battered willpower not to kiss him in that moment, but they’d been in the workout room and not alone.
“Did you want to talk about Finn?” Sophia asked, taking the empty seat in Dr. Anders’ office.
“Yes. How did it go?”
“Great. We worked on his balance today and he’s ready to skate this week. There was no residual pain from his hiking mishap and his ankle isn’t swollen.”
“I’m sure he was happy to hear that. And he’s lucky he didn’t do too much damage on the weekend. What was he thinking? So close, and he goes hiking?” Dr. Anders shook her head.
“Yes, I’m surprised he’d chance his ankle so close to his skating date.” Sophia kept her face calm, answering her boss’ questions, while her insides jumped around. Hopefully her face didn’t show her guilt.
“Let’s hope he doesn’t try doing anything like that again. At least until he’s fully healed and done with PT. Stubborn man,” Dr. Anders said.
“Yep. Stubborn.”
And adorable. But definitely stubborn.
Finn pulled open the doors to the Strikers’ practice facility and headed straight for the ice Friday morning. He wasn’t due on the ice for another forty minutes, and he’d get to his gear eventually. He walked down the bench and took everything in. The ice was perfect, no skates had marred the smooth surface yet, and he couldn’t wait to cut through that perfection on his own blades. The air was crisp, with the lingering smells of hockey players. It was his favorite smell. A smell he’d known for as long as he could remember.
“You going to stand there smelling the ice or actually put on some skates?” Beady called out, moving toward Finn.
Finn turned to grin at the man. “Just give me a minute.”
“You’re wasting time, kid,” he grumbled, then patted Finn on the shoulder. “But I get it. Tore my MCL five years into my career. I still remember that first day back on the ice.”
Finn gave the man a look of shock.
“Yes, I have a heart, you bastard. Now lace up.”
Finn chuckled. “Nice to know it’s there.”
“Keep it up, recovery or not, and you’ll be skating suicide drills all morning. Gotta test your speed and ankle strength somehow.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” Finn said, heading to the locker room to change. He may be recovered, but even the healthiest guy balked at endless suicide drills.
He tossed his bag on the bench and grabbed his skates that one of the equipment managers had left in his stall. He quickly changed and leaned back in his stall, taking in the room he hadn’t been in for months. He was finally back. He looked over his shoulder, to his name in the placard above his head. This is what he’d worked so hard for this summer. Yes, the room was currently empty, but in a few weeks, it would be filled with his teammates, and he was going to be ready to take the ice for training camp with them. Taking a quick swig of water, he set the bottle down, finished lacing up his skates, and stood up.
He wobbled as he stood, but gathered his bearings and headed back to the ice.
“You ready?” Seibs, one of the Strikers’ assistant coaches asked as he patted Finn on the shoulder.
“Definitely,” Finn replied, his voice filled with confidence that he wasn’t sure was completely accurate. But his ankle felt great, and he was ready.
“Good. How about we do a few laps? Just to get your feet under you,” Beady said, leaning his arm on the top of his hockey stick.
Finn did a lap at a decent but slow clip, and his ankle didn’t wobble. He wasn’t cutting his turns tight enough, but he was still testing his flexibility. It was one thing to push his balance on the Bosu ball during PT, but it was very different to push himself in his first minutes on the ice. He wasn’t an idiot.
“Looking slow, Finn,” Beady called out.
He picked up the pace with his next few laps, his turns tightening each time, the cool air brisk against his cheeks. He wished Sophia was in the stands watching him. Encouraging him. He’d never cared about someone who wasn’t family supporting him in the stands. He bit back his smile as he took the next lap.
“What are you grinning about? Your speed needs work, and you’re already sweating,” Beady called out.
They didn’t call the man a joy killer for nothing.
“Just happy to be here,” Finn said, coming to a stop next to his coaches.
“They fix your personality at the PT office, too?” Seibs said, with a chuckle.
“Yeah, where’s the grump? This happy guy is freaking me out,” Beady taunted.
“How’s it feel?” Seibs asked.
“A little tight and I’m wobbling
a bit, but not bad,” he said, happy that his ankle wasn’t throbbing from the handful of laps he’d just completed. His balance wasn’t what it’d been before his injury, but it wasn’t awful. His stamina needed work. He hated being winded after that last lap around the rink.
“Let’s run skating drills for the rest of today and focus on getting your legs back under you. Do a few laps with the stick,” Beady said, handing Finn a hockey stick. “It’ll help with balance.”
Finn grabbed the stick and started another lap. His balance was better since it felt weird to skate without the piece of lumber in his hand. Maybe he should’ve used the hockey stick when he’d tried balancing on the Bosu ball at the PT office.
And now he was thinking about Sophia again. About wanting to be done with PT, but already missing their appointments. But if he wasn’t a patient anymore, she’d have no excuse to say no to his dinner invite. The last few attempts to get her to go out with him had been sad.
“Hey, how many laps are you doing?” Beady called out, cutting through Finn’s thoughts of Sophia. He skated to a stop in front of the guy and pushed Sophia from his mind. He had work to do on the ice today and that had to be his sole focus.
“Just testing the legs. You’re right. My balance is much better holding onto this,” he said.
“Of course it is. You’re a hockey player. Hell, you should’ve been holding that thing while you were at your PT appointments,” Beady said. “Now, let’s try a few quick stops. Really test that ankle.”
Finn skated across the ice, stopping right before he hit the side boards near the benches. He put all his weight on his bad ankle, ignoring the subtle throb, then ramped up and skated to the other side. The ache was dull, and it wasn’t painful, so he kept going back and forth, Beady calling out when to stop each time.
His blade hit a rough patch of ice and he flailed before he could right himself, landing on his hip. “Shit,” he barked out, pushing himself back to standing.
“Hurt?” Beady asked.
“Nope. Just hit a cut-up spot on the ice, but the ankle is fine.”
Delay of Game (San Francisco Strikers Book 3) Page 13
