Stealing Home

“That depends on the context of that question.”


His laugh carried into the bathroom. “You know me too well. However, in this instance, I’m referring to hunger as in for food. The room service type specifically. I can order something for us so we can eat once you’re done cryogenically freezing my gonads.”

Wandering back into his room, I dried off my hands with a towel. “Hey, this isn’t my fault—I warned you to take it easy.”

I ceremoniously waved my arms toward the bathroom, feeling nervous. I’d given so many ice baths I could have filled an entire ocean with them, but this one was different. It was for Luke Archer. In his hotel room instead of the locker room. Plus, back there, the entire coaching and medical staff had been present, pow-wowing a plan of treatment. No one else was here now though.

Just me. Just him. And a locked door.

Shepherd had crapped a brick when Archer requested that I attend to him through the night, right before the suspicious look that shadowed his face insinuated the very thing I was trying to avoid. If someone on the team was already suspicious that something was going on between Archer and me and we hadn’t even done anything, what chance did we have of no one finding out when and if we actually did?

“Dinner?” Archer waved the room service menu at me.

“I’ll order it for us. We need to get you in the tub before you get any more swollen.”

Archer’s gaze swept down his body, landing on the very part of him I was trying not to inspect. “I can think of something to help with the ‘swelling.’”

Crossing my arms, I gave him an unfazed look. “I’m here to see to your leg. Not your dick.”

“I think that by taking care of one, you’ll be taking care of the other.”

“True. Ice baths are up to the task of tending to torn muscles and swollen dicks. So let’s get started.”

Archer lay stretched out in bed for another minute, calling my bluff, but when I made no move to throw myself at him, he sighed. “The ice bath it is.”

“Good choice.” Rushing to him when he started to climb off the bed, I positioned myself under his arm to keep him from putting any weight on the injured leg.

Archer’s arm wound snuggly around me, holding me close as we slowly made our way into the bathroom. “I could get used to this. My arm around you. You spending the night in my room. Getting my needs tended to by you. I might just try to injure myself again once I’m healed up from this one.”

“Can’t wait to run that plan by Coach,” I muttered as we came to a stop at the edge of the tub. When he didn’t step in right away, I lifted my eyebrows. “Afraid of a little ice bath?”

“Please. I’ve had just as many of these over the past five years as I have showers. I’m immune to them.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

His eyes lowered. “I don’t know what you’re into, Doc, but I don’t typically bathe with my clothes on.”

“Those aren’t clothes.”

“I don’t bathe with my underwear on. That better?”

Before I could say anything else, his free hand tugged the waistband down over his hips. Then said underwear were in a heap at his feet.

“There. Much better.” When he glanced over, he didn’t miss my crestfallen expression. “Sorry? Did you want to help with that?”

My eyes lifted to the ceiling. Mostly just to keep them from exploring Archer’s exposed body. “Get in the bath already.”

I kept my gaze up as I helped him step into the tub, but even then, it was hard not to notice him in my peripheral vision. Even stepping into a thirty degree tub of water and ice, probably in serious pain from the muscle tear, he was still hard.

The muscles south of my navel contracted.

He didn’t wince when his other foot stepped inside, the water skimming just below his knees. His skin didn’t even erupt in goose bumps. Maybe he was immune to the discomfort of it all.

“Okay, lower down nice and easy. No sudden movements. Use me to brace yourself.” I slid my other arm under his armpit to guide him down, but he was barely putting any weight on me.

“Thanks, Doc. I already planned on using you to brace myself later, but I appreciate the green light.” His curved smile lifted even as the rest of his body lowered into the tub.

“Can you be serious for five minutes?”

Archer’s jaw set when that part of him disappeared into the tub, but he didn’t yelp or grimace like most of the guys did. “I am being serious.”

“Fine, then can you not be so serious? I’ve got a job to do tonight, and it doesn’t include fucking you.” I blamed my blunt crudeness on the cold water and feeling like my eyes were going to go crossed from keeping them focused on the ceiling. “Besides, how can you even be thinking that with a groin pull?”

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