Page 35 of Playoff

“Just been overdoing it a little,” she says. “My arm is sore, but I’ll take a muscle relaxer tonight and it’ll be fine in the morning. If it’s not, I’ll talk to the doc.”

For some reason, as soon as the door closes behind us, I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder. “Where?”

“What?” She looks down at my hand in surprise.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Oh. It’s here.” She touches an area just below the curve of her shoulder. “But I don’t think—” She moans as I gently squeeze with my fingers. “Oh, hell, that feels good.”

“Here, let me do something for you. You’ve done so much for us the last few days.” I softly start to massage her shoulder and top of her arm. I use my thumbs to dig into the knot I feel, and her chin drops to her chest.

“God, Blake, that’s perfect…right there.”

Her words remind me of another time she said something similar, but I wasn’t massaging her shoulder then. No, I was working on parts much farther south. And her voice was a lot huskier.

My cock jumps to attention, and I quickly end that train of thought.

At least, I do my level best to end it.

“Is it all right if I go under your shirt?” I ask. “It’s hard to get traction over the top you’re wearing.”

“Oh, uh, sure.” She doesn’t move to stop me, so I slide my hand up her back.

Her skin is still silky smooth, just as I remember it, and though I make sure my fingers don’t touch anything they’re not supposed to, it’s killing me knowing that her breasts are so close.

“How’s this? Tell me when.” I get a good grip on the shoulder and increase pressure until she jerks a little.

“That’s too much,” she whispers.

“Okay.” I ease off and slide my fingers down to her shoulder blade, slipping beneath the sports bra she’s wearing. I find another knot there and go to work, trying to focus on making her feel good without letting her see how much it’s impacting me to be able to touch her again.

“How’s this feel?” I ask, kneading the curve of her shoulder and bicep, noting that she hasn’t moved, isn’t acting like she’s uncomfortable or wants me to stop. And if I’m honest, I don’t want to stop.Ever.

“It’s really nice,” she murmurs. “I didn’t realize how tight everything was until now. Thank you.” She slowly lifts her head and our faces are inches apart.

My eyes find hers in the semi-darkness, and it’s hard to tell what she’s thinking. Is she as aroused as I am? Her body language says yes, but her eyes are filled with conflict.

I stop rubbing her shoulder and let my hand slowly drift down across her back, enjoying the warmth of her skin, before finally pulling free of her shirt. She shudders ever so slightly, even though it’s not cold out, and I can’t help but bring my hand up to cup the side of her face.

“You’re still the prettiest girl I know,” I say softly.

She gently nuzzles my hand, her eyes never leaving mine.

Her lips are slightly parted, and I recognize the longing.

Thathasn’t changed at all.

She wants me to kiss her.

“Rowan…” I lean forward, edging closer, until my lips are a fraction of an inch from hers. “I want to kiss you.”

“I…” She blinks and then abruptly steps back. “I don’t think… I mean, we can’t, er, that’s a really bad idea.” She shakes her head and digs her keys out of her pocket. “Thank you for, uh, the massage. It really helped, but I’m not interested in rekindling anything, Blake. We’re better off as friends, you know? Anyway, I have to get going. Good night.” She turns and all but runs toward her car.

I watch for a moment before turning to go back inside.

Except the fucking door is locked.

Dammit.

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