Touch My Neck ✓

Chapter Ten | Why is it dangerous to crack jokes while playing hockey?

Angel Huxley Novak

I was getting ready for Jake's visit to my hotel room, having just enjoyed a long, refreshing shower. After drying off, I slipped into a comfortable pair of shorts and a plain white t-shirt that ended just above my stomach.

Suddenly, an urgent knock on my door startled me. I wondered why anyone would be so eager; I hadn't even finished getting ready for Jake's arrival. As I opened the door, I was surprised to find Eros leaning against the doorframe, his expression showing signs of pain. He was clutching his leg, and it was clear he was in distress.

"Eros?" I said, concern evident in my voice. I quickly opened the door wider to let him in, noticing his slight limp as he moved inside. He held onto the frame for support, and I could see the discomfort in his eyes.

"I'm in pain," he growled out, his voice strained.

Without hesitation, I moved forward to help him. His arms fell around my neck, and I could feel his weight as he leaned on me for support. My heart raced, both from the unexpected encounter and the physical effort of holding him up.

"Come in," I said softly, guiding him further into the room. Carefully, I helped him sit down on the nearest chair. "What happened? Did you injure yourself during practice yesterday?"

He nodded, still grimacing in pain. "Yeah, it got worse during the flight. I don't know what happened."

"That's why you didn't come and see me?" He nods curtly. I felt a mix of worry and determination. "Let me take a look,"

He wore his joggers, he slowly lifts his body up and slides them down his huge thighs revealing him just in black boxers-my eyes widen as I notice...okay back to work.

"I'm just going to check you out, okay." I said, moving to assess his injury. I gently examined his leg, noting the areas where he winced or tensed up. "Can you describe the pain to me? Is it a sharp pain, or more of a dull ache?"

He tried to explain, but his words were cut short by a sharp intake of breath as I pressed on a sensitive spot. "It's... sharp... when I move," he managed to say.

"This would be easier if I can just get scans-"

"No. I said no scans and you promised."

"I didn't promise, I said we would try Eros. It would make it easier for me to-"

"No, Doctor Huxley."

"Listen, Eros," I interrupted, taking a step closer to him. "I understand your concerns, but I'm doing my best to help you. Based on your symptoms and my examination, it's likely you have an adductor strain."

His jaw tensed, and I could feel the intensity in the room rising.

"The adductor muscles, located on the inside of the thigh, can be strained when the legs are pulled together, especially during lateral movements on the ice."

I could see the struggle in his eyes, the desire to get better and the wariness of revealing too much.

"It's the only thing I could say without proper imaging," I continued, my voice softening. "I want to help you, Eros, but we need to work together on this."

He hesitated for a moment before finally relenting, "Fine, but no scans."

I settle down in front of him, "but Eros, you need to listen to me. I'm taking you off the ice for two weeks." His eyes widen.

"No you're not!" He stands up, and groans at the same time.

"It is the best way to keep you from straining it any further, it needs to heal. We need to ice it, compress it and you need to do physical therapy with me. Every day."

His jaw tensed as he absorbed my words, clearly torn between his determination to play and the logic behind my medical advice. "I am the best they have, Angel," he stated, using my name for the first time, and the way it rolled off his tongue sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.

I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my professional demeanor despite the charged atmosphere between us. "I know you're a valuable player, Eros," I said, trying to reason with him. "But risking your health for the game won't do you or the team any good in the long run. We have to think about your future in hockey too."

His expression softened slightly, and I could see a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. "Mikey can take your place," I continued, referring to another goalie on the team. "He's a good player and can hold his own. You need to give yourself time to heal properly, and I'll be with you every step of the way during your recovery."

A soft knock on the door interrupts our conversation, and before I can get up to answer it, Eros reaches out and takes my hand. "No one can know, Doctor Huxley," he whispers urgently. I glance down at our hands, and his was twice the size of mine.

Butterflies enter my stomach.

I nod in understanding, realising the importance of keeping his condition private. I cautiously open the door just a crack, enough to see Jake on the other side.

"Hey, sorry I'm a bit late," he says with a friendly smile.

I give him a small smile back, trying to look convincing. "Jake, I'm actually not feeling well," I reply, feigning a tired expression.

His brow furrows with concern. "Oh, are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," I assure him, trying to sound convincing. "I'm just a bit jet-lagged from the flight, so I think I need to rest."

"Ah, I see. Well, you should definitely take it easy then," Jake says sympathetically. "We can catch up later."

"Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it," I say, trying to sound genuinely grateful.

As he bids me goodbye and heads down the hallway, I gently close the door and turn back to Eros.

"Tomorrow morning, six a.m, I want you in the gym of the hotel-I'll books us a private room and we start with physical therapy."

Eros nods in agreement. "Okay, six a.m., gym, private room. Got it."

I give him a reassuring smile. "Good. We'll work on your recovery together, and I promise to do my best to help you get back on the ice as soon as possible."

He hesitates for a moment before speaking. "Thank you," before leaving the room. I scratch my head feeling bad about Jake, I grab my key card and head out of the hallway towards his room. I knock onto the door, and it opens.

"Hey, sorry about that...I was nervous." I lie.

He opens the door wider, inviting me inside.

I step inside Jake's room, feeling a mix of guilt and uncertainty. He closes the door behind us, and I can sense that he's trying to figure out what I really want to talk about.

"It's okay," he says, his expression softening. "I understand if you needed some time alone."

I nod, feeling the weight of my words on the tip of my tongue. "It's not that I needed time alone, it's just... things have been complicated lately."

He looks at me with concern in his eyes. "Complicated? What do you mean?"

"Nothing." He takes my hand into his, and leaves a soft kiss onto my knuckles. A smile spreads across my face before his lips find mine, my hands gently rest onto his chest as his hand wraps around my waist.

We begin to stumble backwards and he turns me around against the window of the city lights, I release a soft gasp and turn my head slightly as he kisses down my neck. His hands slowly sliding beneath my shirt, grabbing my breasts in his palms.

He turns me around and cages me with his arms as his tongue latches onto mine, "fuck...Jake." I whisper. He raises my shirt revealing my breasts, his tongue latches onto my nipple-sucking onto it gently. My hands grab onto the back of his hair, I release a soft moan as my head falls against the window.

My leg slowly raises against his waist and his lips travel up to find mine again.

"You're fucking beautiful, Angel." He whispers, I feel his tongue mix with my own.

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