Page 57 of Goalie interference

Thayer was so good-looking–he wasn’t pretty, like he’d call me, but wow…

He was hot.

All tall, tan, muscled, and gorgeous–even in his coach get-up and having not shaved his face this morning. I liked it when he had a little bit of stubble, liked that–it tickled my neck and made me feel all gooey inside.

It sucked hearing that the last time I was getting off for a few weeks was before my game, but at the same time, that was also pretty hot, so I’d live.

It also meant that when I was finally cleared, I was climbing Thayer and that big, muscular body like a tree.

Reed didn’t stay for long, or maybe he did–time passed pretty weird right now. I just knew he was gone for a little while, and Thayer massaged my leg for me a little bit.

Until I was getting too loud, and he didn’t want a nurse coming to check on me.

Now I was just hard and itching to go home–I didn't like hospitals. They smelled too clean, and there were too many weird sounds. I wanted to go home, and I kept telling Thayer that, so when the nurse told him I could finally go, so long as he signed me out as his responsibility, oh, he was on that.

“Ready?” Thayer asked, kissing my knee as he finished tying my shoe for me, helping me off the bed.

“Ready to be home four hours ago,” I mumbled, most of the drugs having started to wear off enough that I could feel some of the pain in my head again.

Noises had to go back down.

“I know,” he hummed, kissing my cheek and draping my arm around his neck to act as support. “We’ll get home, get showered, and I’ll make something to eat that’s not radioactive.”

Hospital food, man…the nurse thought I was just throwing up from the concussion still.

Just as Thayer went to open the door, it opened for him.

And my stomach dropped.

Now would be a good time to mention that I was a Michigan native. I grew up just outside of Ann Arbor, and though I had many colleges offer me scholarships, I picked UMichigan because I grew up a UM fan.

And my parents still lived in that little town, barely an hour away.

“Ashy?” my mom asked, taking hold of my face suddenly.

My dad was still in the doorway, introducing himself to Thayer…because he recognized him.

As my coach.

This was going to go awesome…

In the last six months, I spoke to my mom frequently. I was something of a momma boy in the way that I texted her at least once a day and called her once a week–many of those calls taking place in Thayer’s bed or hot tub with him right next to me.

Not once in the last six months did I even mention that I was seeing anyone. I didn’t even tell her I broke up with Callie– just steered the conversation away from it altogether.

I’d also only ever talked about girls my whole life.

“Well, thank you for watching over him, Mr.Thayer, but we’ve got him,” my mom sighed, moving to my arm to coax me off of Thayer, but no way.

I loved my mom, but no way.

I folded in towards Thayer, groaning out a No as he rubbed my back. I just wanted to go home, and he knew that–that was all I wanted.

But I wanted our home.

I wanted our bed and our shower–God, not my childhood room. I didn’t want a cold, twin-sized bed that didn’t even fit me when I still lived there–I wanted my naked boyfriend babying me while I whined about my head!

“I…must be missing something here,” I heard my mom ask, taking a step back from us to my dad’s side. “I thought you were one of Ashy’s coaches.”