Stealing Home(33)

The same big, bold letters stared at me from within the box, right above the number eleven, stitched on a Shock jersey. Lingerie—Luke Archer style.

Pulling it out, I let the jersey unfold in front of me. I wanted to put it on now. I wanted to wear it for the game today, like thousands of other fans who would be wearing Archer’s number eleven on their backs.

I wanted what I couldn’t have.

Letting out a sigh, I folded the jersey back up and set the box inside my apartment before I locked the door and headed to the stadium. For now, I’d have to leave Luke Archer to the fans.

I was the first one in the locker room, not that that was a first. I knew who would be the second to arrive. Luke always showed up way before the rest of the players. He had his ritual and routine before a game, although today’s routine would include another ice bath.

The moment his eyes landed on me when I emerged from the room we kept the ice tubs in, his face fell.

“Nice to see you too,” I greeted, trying to ignore the way my stomach was knotting from seeing him.

“You’re not wearing my jersey.”

“Did you actually think I would? Or that I could?”

“I guess not.” His shoulders sagged. He was pouting. Luke Archer pouted.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be sure to wear it to bed tonight.”

His eyes darkened. “You know what would make me feel even better?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “If it’s all you wore to bed tonight.”

I had to remind myself where I was and who would be arriving soon—the entire Shock brigade of players and staff.

“Deal,” I said, waving into the room where the bath was ready for him. “The bath’s ready whenever you are. Fifteen minutes in there, then we’ll hit you with a heat treatment.”

When he dropped his sports bag at the foot of his locker, hanging his cap up before tugging off his tee, I backed up a few steps.

Space seemed like a good thing right then.

“How’s your leg doing?” I asked, diverting my gaze when his fingers dropped to his jeans.

“Fantastic, thanks to your tender loving care.” His words were dripping insinuation.

“No pain?” I lifted a brow, doubtful. The kind of pull he’d sustained didn’t just go away as suddenly as it had happened.

“None.”

“Comfortable putting your weight on it?”

“I’m comfortable putting my weight on it, supporting someone else’s weight on it . . .” He made sure I was looking before he dropped his jeans. And shit. He was commando. And at full staff. More space between us seemed like an even better idea.

“How are your sisters?” I gave an innocent smile and waited.

His face fell. Other parts of his anatomy, not so much. “You’re cruel.”

“And you’ve got a date with a tub full of ice. Let me know when you’re out.” Snagging the clipboard from outside Coach’s office, I pretended to be focused on the line-up for the day as I headed into the supply room.

“Hey, Doc?”

I paused.

“Are you going to clear me to play today?”

My teeth worked that out on my lip for a moment before I turned to face him. This was what I’d been worried about with us. Or one of the things I’d been worried about. That I’d let my feelings for him get in the way of doing my job. As Allie, the woman in a relationship with him, I knew he wanted to play and had the grit and stamina to do so. It was a home game after a long stretch on the road, and his sisters would be in the stands, hoping to cheer on their big brother. Allie wanted him to play. Allie knew he could play.

The athletic trainer knew playing today was pushing it. The kind of pull he’d sustained generally required more rest, and the risk of him reinjuring it and putting him in even worse shape was a very real possibility. The athletic trainer felt conflicted. Part of her felt like sitting out another game would mitigate the risk, and another part knew Luke Archer was capable of more than just any other player.

I was in a difficult position, knowing I’d upset him and the rest of the team if I advised him to sit this one out too. I was in a difficult situation if I gave him the green light to play and he really messed up his leg.

“Before you say anything, I just want you to know that I’ve been thinking about what you said to me a few days ago in the shower room.”

“We didn’t say much from what I remember.” I clutched the clipboard to my chest, trying to ignore the fact that the man who knew how to do wonderful things to my body with his body was naked and ready fifteen feet in front of me.

“No, but what you did say left an impression.”

“Good to know you were listening.”

Archer folded his jeans and stuffed them inside his locker. “I want you to know that I respect that you have a job to do and that you can’t let us get in the way of that.” He waved his finger between us. “It’s your call, Doc. I’m not going to pressure you either way, and I’m not going to sulk if you tell the coach to bench me.” He let those words hang between us for a moment before grabbing a towel and heading back toward the tubs. “I’ve said what I needed to. I’ll be turning my huevos into ice cubes if you need me.”

“Big baby,” I muttered after him.