She's Not a Fan

Chapter 14

Sarah shrugged off her jacket and shut off the lights on the main floor, thinking about the evening.  She felt dazzled and didn’t particularly like it, and cringed at the way it ended.

She made her way up to the bedroom.  Mike was so damn cute, and funny and sweet and so hot, and his kisses made her stupid.  Not a particularly good combination.  She’s a professional, she chided herself, and jeez, twenty-six years old.  With Mike, she felt like a teenager, unsure of who she was and totally new at this game. 

When he kissed her, her feet weren’t quite on the ground and her brain turned to fluff.  When he touched her, she felt like lighter fluid ready to explode.  That bright light wasn’t actually a camera flash, it was her, spontaneously combusting.  Sorry, she imagined herself telling patients, can’t make it to work, I went up in flames with Mike’s touch.  Ugh.  And to top it all off, he was a patient and a hockey player.  Great.  Just toss the match, flick the lighter.  Maybe it would be better to let this burn out or send it up in flames now and save them both some grief.  She heaved a sigh.  But maybe she could run her hands down his chest and over the ripples of his six pack first, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep. 

Sunday arrived and Sarah couldn’t put off going to the rink any longer.  The plan was to meet Mike first and examine his ribs.  If she was satisfied with the exam, she would watch him play.  Easy.  All she had to do was go to the rink and watch Mike play.  Piece of cake.

If only she could stop the shaking.  Deep breath in.  Slow breath out.  Sarah felt the sweat run down her back as she pulled into the parking lot.  She had her pick of spots today.  She tried to focus on the setting sun as it glinted off the wall of glass at the front of the arena.

She parked the car and sat for a moment.  She knew the fear was irrational, told herself to stop, but at that moment, it didn’t help. 

It didn’t help that Mike resented her.  Or that his career depended on her decision. 

She could do this.  She was a good doctor.  She was fair.  She understood Mike’s concerns, and was on his team.  Sort of.

She gathered her bag and went inside.  Her heart started pounding and she wiped away the sweat on her forehead.  Deep breath in.  Slow breath out.

She had arranged to meet Mike in the trainer’s room so she wouldn’t have to walk through the dressing room.  With shaky legs, she knocked on the door and went in.  Mike was sitting on examining table in the small room, dressed in work-out gear and chatting with Ben. 

Ben popped up as Sarah walked in.  “Great to see you again, Sarah.  How’re you doin’?” he asked, grabbing her hand for a vigorous handshake.

“I’m good, thanks.  Good to see you again, too.”  She looked around the room and felt calmer with the familiar setting.  The room was set up with four examining tables.  There was an open area for assessments, and a few machines she didn’t recognize, but it felt more like a clinic than an arena.

“I’ll just step out so you can talk with Mike,” Ben said as he grabbed his clipboard and headed out the door.

She raised her eyebrows at his hasty exit.

“He hates doctors as much as me,” Mike said lazily.

“Uh-huh.  I thought he was just being respectful,” she countered.

Mike just smiled and shrugged.

 “How’s the rib?”

“It’s fine.”