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This conversation isn’t over, but for now, we can put it on pause.
35 IF YOU WANT ME
BJ
“You’re doing great with your physical therapy. Mobility is good. We’ll keep up with the weekly massage sessions to help minimize the internal scar tissue. You’re cleared to get back on the ice.”
“Already?”
The doctor nods. “It’s been a month, and you’ve put in the work. I’m not saying start doing pirouettes and jumps, but putting your skates on and getting your body used to different types of activity will only help expedite the healing process,” he explains. “It’s okay if you’re not ready, though. You’re still seeing the therapist I referred you to?”
“Yeah. I’m still seeing the therapist.” I’ve needed a perspective that wasn’t one of my parents’ or my friends’, someone impartial to talk through all my fears with. To help me make sense of this.
“And that’s going well?”
“Yeah, she’s great.”
He nods. “Well, when you’re ready to take that step, the step is ready for you.”
He also tells me I’m cleared for other physical activities, but to be careful of overexertion. That’s one green light I plan to take full advantage of.
Mom is in the waiting room. She comes every week to take me to the doctor’s appointments, and Dad usually attends physical therapy with me. I anticipate that they’ll be more attentive than usual for a while. Mom is already talking about the holiday break and how glad she is I’ll be home for a few weeks.
A small piece of me feels bad that I didn’t go home to recover, but losing the entire semester wouldn’t have been good for my mental well-being. I needed somewhere else to focus my energy, and Winter and my friends have really stepped up and helped make it work.
When I come out of the office, the doctor shares the good news with my mom.
“I can see about getting us some ice time this week. I’ll make room in my schedule on whatever day works for you.” Mom is giddy with excitement as we walk to the car.
“I’m not skating at that rink again. Not after what happened there.” I have a giant pit of dread in my stomach.
“Of course not. Why don’t you come home this weekend? That would be better, wouldn’t it? To skate at the Hockey Academy?”
I’m quiet a moment as I navigate getting into the passenger seat. “Winter has a big game this weekend.” They’re playing the first-place team, and they’re currently in third. If they win this game, they’ll be in second.
“What about getting time at the school rink? I’m sure we could work something out there.”
“I’m not ready, Mom. I don’t want to get back on the ice yet.”
Her expression grows concerned. “Are your pain levels still too high? Do we need to discuss it with the doctor?”
I shake my head. “It’s not the pain. Things are better, less achy, and I’m getting my strength back, but I just… I don’t feel ready to put skates back on. I’m not there.”
She reaches over the center console and squeezes my hand. “Okay. We’ll give it a bit more time.”
The second Winter walks in the door later that afternoon, I pull her into the bedroom and kiss her. “Feeling up for a gentle Fucktastic Friday?”
She breaks the kiss and blinks up at me. “Did you get cleared for sex?”
“Sure did.”
“Oh my God. Oh, hell yes!” She yanks her shirt over her head and reaches for mine.
Clothes hit the floor until we’re both naked. Before we stretch out on the bed, she pulls out the box of condoms that have gone unused for the past month. Then we slow it down, making out, touching, groping, fingers exploring sensitive places, building anticipation of what’s to come.
Winter grips my erection, stroking from base to tip. “Should I be on top this time? Just so you don’t have to do all the pelvic thrusting? That could be hard on your thigh and maybe distracting.”
“Probably a good idea,” I groan.
