Page 13 of Rookie Recovery

He glanced at the ceiling, whispered something that sounded an awful lot like “Jesus H. Christ” and then turned to me. “So, kid, have you—”

“You don’t have to call me kid. You introduced yourself, Jamie,” I said over enunciating his name. “But what, you don’t want my name? How do you even know if I’m the guy on your sheet? I could be any old handsome chap from the streets.”

Jamie pinched his perfect lips between his teeth and let out a long breath through flared nostrils. “I know your name. Archie Bowman. Twenty-five years old, from Wiltshire, England. Born on May twenty-third, nineteen-ninety-eight. Played for Carson Cavaliers for two years, and before that, the Seattle Sharks, and before that, the LA Lions.” He gave me a look that said, did I forget anything? My smile was too wide to answer. “Now, can I get on with my assessment?”

I held out a flattened palm. “By all means.”

“Have you had any injuries in the past six months?”

“Nope,” I said, popping the P like they do in movies. Jamie made a note on his clipboard.

“Any injuries prior to six months that are still causing issues?”

“Also nope.”

“Any ongoing concerns?”

“No, sir.”

He rolled his eyes. “Anything at all you’re worried about?”

“It’s really cold in your office. Can you turn the thermostat up? My nipples are like bullets.”

Jamie realised what I’d said, the moment I thought, Made you look. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and this time I definitely heard him say, “Give me strength.”

I couldn’t help the smile that crept over my face. He was so serious. And so gorgeous. It was too much fun not to poke him a little. I was a kid, with a really long stick, and Jamie was Alan Whitmore’s rottweiler, Debbie, who’d broken into our garden, shat in the potato patch, and taken a nap on our trampoline. I wanted him to snap at me, and chase me, while I ran screaming for my life across the horses’ paddock.

“I’m going to give you a physical examination now to check your joints, muscle length, and tight spots. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah, I have a question.” I bit back my laughter, and I saw the abject pleading in Jamie’s eyes. I knew I was a proverbial pain in the ass. But could I reel it in? Could I stop myself? Not a chance. “Has anyone ever got a boner while on your table?”

He choked on thin air, but recovered surprisingly quickly. “It’s … not common, but if it happens, you shouldn’t feel embarrassed. We’re both professionals. You can ask for a breather if you need one.”

“Thanks. So kind of you.” I tucked my hands behind my head, drawing Jamie’s eye once again to my torso. He tore it away. “Has it ever happened before? And you know, it doesn’t count if it was you that got the hard-on.”

“Fuck me,” Jamie hissed. “Come on, kid. I’ve been dragged into the office on a Sunday to examine you, and …” He broke off, seemingly unable to finish his thought.

I’d taken it a step too far, but in typical Bowie fashion, I could only summon half an apology, mostly because I was enjoying myself too much. “Sorry, mate. Only trying to lighten the mood.”

“I don’t need a smart-ass kid on my table making dick jokes, okay?”

I held my palms up in surrender, but really, it only served to draw his eye once more to my chest.

“I’m going to check your muscles now,” Jamie said, switching back to super-pro mode.

And just like that, his hands were on my thighs.

Squeezing. Just above my knee. His fingers dipping along the outer edge.

Damn. It didn’t even feel that good, but popping wood was now a seriously high-risk hazard.

He leant further over me, lifting my leg up, bending it at the knee, and that cologne of his hit my nostrils.

I had no clue about perfume notes, or identifying individual scents like oranges or flowers or whatever. All I knew was that it was an expensive smell. Like really fucking expensive. And grown up. Not the Hugo Boss dupe Mum always tucked into my Christmas stocking. It probably came from France or some shit.

He finished wiggling my knee, moved to the other. His thumbs tracked up my inner thighs.

“Oh, he’s getting handsy now.” Don’t ask me, I didn’t know why I said it.

---