Page 19 of Scores Of The Heart

While he wants us to train hard, he doesn’t want any of us pushing ourselves into a frenzy going into the finals. We lost in the conference finals last year and we don’t want history repeating itself. Finding that balance between work and rest can be difficult at times, because you don’t want to lose your edge, but even I can see the value in taking a few hours off or watching a movie at home one night instead of smashing it out in the gym.

I’ve had a lot of massages lately and use the jacuzzi and sauna daily, it takes some of the pain away. I don’t think it’s anything serious, just ailing bones and wear and tear.

The game is so bloody and brutal it’s a wonder there’s not double as many injuries as there are. We’ve all had serious knocks on the ice. I’ve been concussed before, and that wasn’t a fairytale. Things can get rough, so I’m a big believer in treating your body right and not doing anything stupid, especially at crucial times.

When I get home after my massage and training, I decide to do some meal prep and make pasta, getting shit ready for the rest of the week. Thanks to my mom, I can cook a pretty decent meal here and there. And since I’ve been living on my own forever, I’m pretty domesticated, too. Though I do have a cleaner once a week to go over to my condo and change the sheets. I pretty much do everything else myself.

I haven’t seen Cindy in person today, so the tension is mounting since yesterday.

I can’t help but wonder if I am reading too much into it. If our eye-fest is anything to go by, I’d say not. Walking up and outright asking her shouldn’t be too far out of my scope if she’s not careful. I am that type of guy, and only one thing has been stopping me. And that’s the team’s rules about fraternization.

Again, I’ve not been in a situation like this before. I know I’m crushing on her hard.

And starting something new, especially with Cindy, is turning me the fuck on.

Given I barely know the woman, I try my best not to envision her when I’m doing myself another huge favor after training. But I can’t get enough of my palm when it comes to her, so I know I’m seriously overdue getting laid. No matter how much I try, I can’t help but picture her.

Her perfect fucking pale skin against my tanned body. My hard tattooed muscles against her soft body. I’d love to encapsulate her in my arms, just to hold her and take in her scent.

I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to have her wrapped around me, to be able to kiss her. For her to call my name.

Yeah, my hips are moving daily to a Cindy-tune that only I know the words to.

And it’s wrong, I know it. I wasn't raised to stalk women and watch them get to work every day, or fantasize over someone I barely know while pleasuring myself more than once a day while thinking about them naked. Despite that, it’s not just a sex thing.

I want to know her. Every damned thing.

But I can’t ask anyone at work. Maybe I need to do some of my own research, Facebook trolling can only do so much. Especially when she isn’t even active on there.

My mind ticks away at what I could do to broach her and the subject seeing her outside of work. The need part is a given. Bumping into her in the parking lot might be obvious, but, hey, it’s not below me. Anything at this point will do. Hell, even having coffee spilled all down my front. That wasn’t a bad icebreaker now I think about it. It would have pissed me off had it been anyone else.

So after I make the rest of my weekly meals, which pretty much consists of a huge batch of the same thing until it runs out, I take a shower and temporarily relieve my ache. Those large, dark eyes looking up at me and that indent her teeth left in her lip when she bit it… It’s enough to have me seeing stars in record time.

The places I could take her if she’d let me. I’m dirty, but it’s all about her. And I might be easy between the sheets, but I love making a beautiful woman feel important. I love to see her wrapped in pleasure.

My phone rings when I’m toweling off and my mom flashes up on the screen.

She and Pops live close to my weekender. I have two younger brothers, Christos who is a finance geek and the youngest, Dion, is a pro golfer. Even though we’re all different in our own right, we all get along pretty well. We try not to do the huge drama thing.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. Did I catch you at a good time?”

I glance down at myself wrapped in a towel after my hand job in the shower. “Yeah, all good. I’m at home. What’s happening?”

“Are you coming out this weekend?”

“Probably, why?”

“I’m making Moussaka.”

She knows that’s my favorite.

“Sounds good. I want to fit in another trip before the finals start.”

“How’s your back, honey? Dad said you weren’t feeling too well the other day.”

“I’m fine. I had a massage today. You know how it is with the game.”

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