River

I drop Angel off at the entrance of Mind Body Soul and park my car in an underground parking garage across the street.

We made great time. She isn’t going to be late, and my appointment isn’t for thirty minutes. I’m feeling overly territorial, though, so I’m going in to keep an eye on this Marcus guy she mentioned the first day of class.

I know firsthand how close an athlete can get to their physical therapist when they’re the opposite sex. I had a fling with a girl who was helping me with a shoulder injury a few years ago. I learned my lesson, though. When we broke up, it was uncomfortable seeing her at PT, and that’s when I started coming to MBS.

Inside the clinic, I check in at the desk and tell the cute brunette, whose tag on her very low-cut blouse says Kelly, that I’m just going to head back and stretch before my appointment.

I feel like a heel for spying on her. It’s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything. Not yet, at least. We had an amazing time driving back to the city. It’s easy between us, like an old couple except without the fizzled attraction and nagging. She’s funny and smart and sexy as hell.

I need to stop thinking about her, or I’ll be facing my physical therapist, Nicka, with a massive erection, and God knows, I don’t want to give her the wrong idea.

In the training room, I sit on a bench and take out my phone. Angel and Marcus are on a mat at the other end of the room.

I open the camera app on my phone and casually raise it in their direction. I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s a total stalker move, but this possessive urge in my gut is short-circuiting any logical thoughts in my brain at the moment.

She is lying on her back in a pair of my sister’s black leggings and a long, filmy white blouse. I hadn’t noticed until now that she wasn’t wearing a bra. On the floor with the shirt flush against her breasts, it’s painfully obvious—painful for my dick, that is, and obvious for Marcus.

I’m seconds from getting up and throwing her over my shoulder and hauling her out of here like a cave man when Nicka approaches me from the side.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she? I can set you up. I know her,” she whispers in my ear.

“Shit, Nicka, are you trying to kill me?”

“Sorry, saw you over here drooling, and I figured I’d put you out of your misery.”

“I’m not drooling.”

“You are, and with good reason. She’s hot.”

Nicka is gay, and I won’t work with a straight trainer anymore. It’s too tempting, or rather, it used to be. I can’t even think of another woman with the memories of last night fresh in my mind.

“She’s taken,” I say with more certainty and confidence than I have a right to.

“Really? She finally gave in to Marcus? He’s been hot for her for over a year now, but she’s always shut him down cold. I wonder what changed her mind.”

“Not by Marcus. By me.”

Nicka turns away from the couple with huge eyes and a slack jaw.

“No.”

“Yes. Is that so hard to imagine?”

I glance over to see Marcus’s hand on Angel’s thigh—high on her thigh—pressing her knee up to her chest.

“Uh yeah, she doesn’t date anybody. Like I mean, no-bod-y. Especially players like you.”

I look back at Nicka, shocked.

“Players like me? I’m not a player.”

“When’s the last time you had a serious girlfriend?”

I can’t help but look at them again. She’s like a magnet, pulling my attention away from Nicka.

“Um, I don’t know. High school, maybe?” I say with my eyes still on them. Jealousy is rearing its ugly head, and my patience is about to snap, along with Marcus’s neck.

“How many women have you taken home to Mama?”

“None. What’s this got to do with Angel and me, anyway?” I say with irritation oozing from my words.

“Wow . . . like, wow. You’ve got it so bad for her, don’t you? Shit, I’ve never seen you like this.” She places her fingers on my chin and turns my face to her.

“Dude, you okay? I think you should sit down before you go murdering one of our best therapists. He digs her, but he’s just her therapist. She’s always made that clear.”

“Does it look like he wants to be just her therapist?” I say, pointing to them. Marcus is squatting down with his ass resting on his heels, holding Angel’s foot in his hand and rolling her ankle in circles, first one direction and then the other. But between each set of rotations, he leans forward to stretch her hamstrings, and I swear to God, he’s pressing his dick against her. Fuck, I’m not watching this anymore. I stand to rush the filthy weasel and give him a taste of San Francisco Spark pride, but Nicka slides in front of me, blocking my way.

At five three, the beautiful black-skinned little scrapper is no match for me, and she knows it. She’s trying to reason with an unreasonable man. I’m going to kill that guy if he doesn’t stop touching her like that.

“Do you see this?” I say, hissing and pointing at them. A dozen other people in the middle of their sessions turn to see what the commotion is about. They quickly avert their eyes when I sweep the room with a death glare.

“Yeah, I do. Listen. If you go over there and sit down on my table, I’ll talk to him.”

I take a step forward, and she puts her hands on my chest.

“Please, man, don’t do this. Have a seat. I’ll take care of it.”

I look down into her dark eyes filled with genuine concern and decide to give her a chance. If he doesn’t knock it off, I can still handle it myself.

“Tell him to get his meat paws off her ass and to stop pushing his little dick between her legs.”

“Sure, okay, whatever. Just go have a seat.”

Turning away from her and walking in the opposite direction feels like I’m going against the grain in a million ways.

I’m not one to settle disputes with words. If you piss me off, be ready for a fist to the face. I inherited my hot Irish temper from my father. I defend my family and friends with brute force. It’s part of who I am.

I don’t go around looking for a fight or anything, and I’m not opposed to finding alternatives to bloodying someone’s nose or blackening an eye or two. But if I can’t get ahold of my temper in that initial few moments of anger when my eyes vibrate in their sockets and my mind goes white, you’d better duck and run.

I deep breathe all the way to Nicka’s table and turn around to perch on the edge of it when I get there. I watch as she squats down next to them, smiling and wagging a finger at Marcus like a mother does a toddler who’s trying to sneak out of bed after being tucked in for the night.

Marcus glances up toward the corner of the room and back at Nicka. Angel has moved into a sitting position with her arms wrapped around her bent knees. Her breasts are hidden behind her legs, no longer accentuated by gravity and her shirt, much to my relief.

The scene is all very buddy, buddy when Nicka stands to leave. Angel watches Nicka leave and catches my eyes. Her warm smile straightens into a straight line, and she tilts her head to one side as if to ask what’s the matter?

I force the corners of my mouth into a smile and dig my fingers into the pleather cover of the therapy table. Keep it together, Kelly. You don’t want to scare her away. She’s the best thing to happen to you since you got drafted into the NFA.

She returns the strained smile, but her honey-colored eyes are rimmed with worry and maybe a touch of suspicion.

I hate that I’ve potentially caused her to feel either. I don’t want to complicate her life. I want to make it better. Losing my shit with that Ricky Martin lookalike over there would only upset her, but it would feel so good to smash his pretty nose.

“All cleared up, and there will be no hands or dicks anywhere near your girl in here ever again,” Nicka says and strolls around the table.

I look in Angel’s direction one more time and catch the tail end of my sister’s white shirt flowing behind her as she exits the room. Nicka pushes against my shoulder, and I lie down and stretch out. She starts right in with my range of motion exercises for my shoulder.

“What did you say?” I ask.

“I told him there had been some claims about trainers getting too touchy-feely and that he should watch it because they installed extra cameras to watch us from every angle.”

I turn to face her and frown.

“Is that true?”

I saw the camera she pointed at, but I have no idea if it’s new. I’ve never paid attention to it before today.

“Naw, they’ve been up there forever. They work, but nobody’s ever complained, and we don’t have any new ones. They laughed it off and said something about it being their last session.”

I look away from her and into the blinding lights on the ceiling.

“Good. If she needs PT in the future, will you take her as a client?”

She puffs air from her nose and chuckles.

“Yeah, sure, dude, but you do remember I swing her way and not yours, right?”

“She doesn’t, though,” I say.

“I can be very persuasive.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re right, not if you’re involved. I’ve never seen a man so jealous before. That artery in your neck looked like it was going to explode. What is it with this girl that’s got you so twisted up?”

“I don’t know, Nicka, but that’s exactly what I am. Twisted up.”