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“Eric?”
I nodded. “That’s right.” We all used aliases when it came to this kind of medicine. But we both knew he would recognize me from a hundred feet away. I was the most recognizable quarterback in the country .
But there would be no paper trail for Wes Blakefield. I’d signed everything as Eric Hawkins. Eric Hawkins was the man getting gel injections to fuse his bones together. Eric Hawkins was getting as many doses of HGH as a man his size could tolerate .
“This will be simple.” Dr. Jones picked up one of the syringes from the tray. “First, I’ll numb the area with an anesthetic .”
I nodded, appreciative there would be some pain relief involved. My hand hadn’t stopped hurting all week .
“Next, I’ll insert the gel with a larger needle. I’ll use the ultrasound camera to guide the needle between the bones.” He pointed to the suspension system hanging overhead. I looked up to see a lens pointed at my hand .
“All right .”
“Once the gel has penetrated the area, I’ll start with the first round of HGH. We’ll begin a regimen at a high dosage, and I’ll show you how to administer the rest at home .”
It sounded standard and practical. It sounded exactly like what I should have done the instant the linebacker crunched my hand. But then I thought of Lennon. And how I wouldn’t have met her. How I wouldn’t be in whatever I was in with her if I didn’t end up in her OR .
“Go for it. I’m ready to get this hand back together .”
“Just lie back. Try to relax and we’ll b
egin.” Dr. Jones certainly didn’t have the same bedside manner as my surgeon. I closed my eyes and pictured her hair falling around my face. I tried to block out the stabbing needles poking through broken bones. I focused on her breath in my ear. The sounds she made when she clenched around my cock. God, she was everything I needed .
An hour later, Dr. Jones squeezed my shoulder. “I’m finished .”
I opened my eyes. “That’s it ?”
He nodded, handing me an opaque white bag. “You have two weeks worth of syringes inside. They are pre-measured. I still think you’re rushing it a little if you expect to play in two weeks, but it’s possible .”
“That’s all I need to hear.” I hopped off the table. “Thanks, Doc .”
“I guess we don’t need to say anything else ?”
I shook my head. “No. Everything is understood.” His career was as much at stake as was mine. One whiff of this and I’d be out of the league, and he’d lose every client he had, as well as his medical license .
I left his office, my hand numb, but my mind optimistic the Wranglers were back in contention for the Super Bowl .
Fourteen
Lennon
T welve-hour shifts were long, but they felt like an eternity when I knew Wes was waiting for me on the other end. I scooted out of the hospital before one of the nurses could catch me and drag me back in to check on a patient. My pager was on. I was available for an emergency, I told myself .
I had enough time to peel off my scrubs, shower, and make it to Wes’s for dinner if I drove quickly and took a shortcut through the city .
For the first time since I had moved to San Antonio, I was kicking myself for not shopping. I’d worn the only sexy thing I had in my closet Saturday night. Other than jeans and a dozen tank tops, I was out of fashionable clothes. This man was used to going out with super models and cheerleaders. Every woman I had seen on his arm was paid to look amazing. Me, I was a surgeon. My fashion consisted of scrubs and a wide variety of yoga pants .
I shuffled through the hangers in my closet, knowing nothing was going to make me happy. I wanted to stun him. Wow him. Seduce him with another gorgeous dress, but I couldn’t make those clothes magically appear. I settled on a pair of fitted jeans and a tank top that hugged my breasts .
I grabbed my keys and left for his place. This still felt unbelievable. We had another date. I never did anything on a Tuesday night .
He opened the door, grinning so wide my knees almost buckled. How could one man ooze sex appeal like that ?
“Hey, Doc .”
“Hi.” Every part of my body told me to throw myself on him and jump in his arms, but I held back. Even if I knew I was hopeless, he didn’t have to know it .
I walked over the threshold, feeling happiness surge through me to be back here again. I hadn’t seen him since my rush to work yesterday morning, and I already missed him. Thirty-six hours was a reasonable amount of time to miss someone, right ?
