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“I won’t.”
“I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow,” I said, my voice unsteady.
“Ellie—”
“Tomorrow, Brashe.”
I grabbed my clothes and fled to the ladies’ locker room before he could say whatever was written on his face. My composure splintered the second the door closed behind me.
I stood under the shower until my skin started to wrinkle, scrubbing at my skin like I could wash away the chlorine and the memory of his hands and the taste of his mouth.
My lips still tingled. The spot on my temple where he’d touched me felt warm. Everything inside me throbbed.
I turned the water hotter, then hotter still.
It didn’t help.
When I finally emerged into the hallway, dressed in a blazer and slacks, he’d left.
I went to my office and sat at my desk, staring at nothing, touching the spot on my temple where his finger had traced the freckle.
I could still taste his kiss.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ELLIE
By noon, I’d managed to convince myself I had everything together.
I’d treated three other players. Updated their charts. And walked Fedor through his knee exercises with a competence that usually came easily.
Except I wrapped his knee three times before I got the tape tension right.
“Are you alright, Doc?” Fedor asked, watching me unwrap it for the last time.
“Fine. I’m just distracted.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No. Thanks though.”
I finally got the wrap right and sent him on his way, then stood at the treatment room sink, washing my hands and staring at my reflection in the small mirror above it. I looked like someone who’d ground herself against Brashe in a therapy pool until she came and hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.
“What’s going on with you?”
I jumped, spinning to find Crim leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed on his chest, his expression concerned.
“Wow, Crim. Knock next time?”
“I did. You didn’t hear me.” He stepped into the room, his gaze sharpening. “Are you feeling alright?”
“I am. It’s nothing. Just a long day.”
“El.”
“Don’t you have an away game to go to?”
“Not until tomorrow. You know that.”
