Open Play (Passion Players), page 15
“What ya doing there, Ayanna?” Shane asked, tilting his head.
“I’ve been patient and understanding, but that has only fanned the flames.” She turned the nozzle from spray to jet and aimed the handle at Eoghan and Shane, who was by his side. Neither one of them had time to react as she squeezed the handle and let the jetted streams fly.
“Feck all!” Shane ran away from Eoghan and watched her in shock.
Since Eoghan couldn’t move well, he twisted in the lawn chair, sputtering water. His lunch flew about under the forceful streams, and he yelled and cursed.
Cold mist flew back on her, decorating her scrubs with water marks. She might be hot under the collar, but still, goose pimples rose on her skin as spring’s temperate evening air blew.
“What the hell are you doing?” Eoghan shouted between breathing attempts.
Barely moving, she briefly released the handle to answer. “Cooling you off.”
“Ayanna.” Eoghan choked on her name.
She again halted her assault. “Do you want to get better or not, Eoghan? Tell me now.”
“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” Eoghan yelled.
“Wrong answer.” Ayanna pressed the handle to release the water again. Relentless, she continued to wet Eoghan’s already soaked clothes and body.
“Ayanna,” Shane called. “That’s enough. He—”
Ayanna turned her vicious spray at Shane. “Shut up or go away!”
Shane hopped and skipped away from the sprays, and Ayanna turned the streams back on Eoghan.
Eoghan tried to cover his face. “All right. Stop!”
“Ready to talk to me like your therapist instead of your doormat?” Ayanna asked.
“Yes,” Eoghan panted and wiped his face.
Ayanna moved in close to tower over his sitting figure. “It stops, now. There will be no more junk food in your system, no more overmedicating and hurting your body, and no more alcohol.” She grabbed the can of beer and threw it into the pool.
“I’m Irish!” Eoghan said, shaking water off his arms.
“Look at my face. Do I look like I give a shit?”
“No,” Eoghan mumbled.
“No, I don’t. You can survive without drinking for a few weeks.” She barreled on. “Keep your leg elevated every time your ass is in a chair, and be nicer to everyone who is here sacrificing their time to help you.” She started to take her leave. “Shane can help you change your clothes. Be ready to work out at three.” She dropped the nozzle like a mic.
Shane held his hands up. “Jaysus, Ayanna. Remind me never to piss you off.”
Both Eoghan and Shane stared at her, wide eyed.
She left them with the taste of Ayanna version 2.0. Louisa giggled behind her hand, but Ayanna wasn’t done.
“He eats at the table, or he doesn’t eat. Am I clear?” Ayanna said to Louisa.
Louisa straightened. “Yes, Dr. Crawford. Crystal.”
Ayanna was turned up, but they all had to understand that she wasn’t in Purchase to play house. Every day she hadn’t worked on Eoghan had been an opportunity wasted. She plucked a snack bar from a basket and went to her computer to enter in some notes on Eoghan’s progress. Responds to shock therapy, she typed.
At three that afternoon, Eoghan hobbled down to the training room, retrieved his crutch, and made his way to the massage table.
“I’m ready, Ayanna,” Eoghan said.
They’d reached their first milestone. Mutual respect. “Welcome to day one of your road back.”
Ayanna completed her session with Eoghan and kept her distance by design. She wanted to keep the mystery alive. She’d had a breakthrough with Eoghan, but they needed to keep moving toward creating a progress mentality. She ate dinner, a bowl of soup and a beer, alone in the garden. Her favorite and most peaceful part of the house.
Shane found her and offered her a beer, which she gladly took. After the day’s events, another cold one was just what she needed to take the edge off.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Mind if I sit?” He’d changed out of his wet khaki pants and white shirt into gray jogging pants and a black shirt.
Ayanna shrugged.
“You were a pistol today, but you got through to him.” Shane’s accent mushed the words together.
“Yeah,” she said. Shane might be there to support Eoghan, but she considered that he might be doing more harm than good and inadvertently sabotaging her efforts. “Hey, look, I know you want to help Eoghan, but I’m going to need you to stop enabling him. I know you guys are friends, but if he wants to get better quick, he has to do what I say.”
“Enable him?”
“Yes. Sharing beers and getting him junk. Talking to him like he’s in charge. He’s not. I am—at least until he’s better.”
“You don’t have to hold on to everything so tight, Ayanna. Maybe if you relaxed a bit—”
“Relaxed? I’m living with two men instead of teaching classes, running clinics, working with clients who are motivated to do the work, and expanding my research. I have a career, reputation, and future on the line.”
“Again, maybe you need to relax,” Shane said. “You’re not the only one with things on the line.”
Ayanna guzzled her beer for about three seconds in an attempt to not spew venom at Shane. She was the financial head of her broken family, taking care of herself and putting her sister, Jada, through college and parenting her and her wild ways from afar. She’d been all but married to her career until recently. The last thing she needed was to be antagonized by someone who had nothing to lose and was vacationing here in the US with his buddy. She rose from her seat to leave.
“Sit down,” Shane commanded.
“Did you just command me to sit?” She seethed.
Shane stood up, towering over her. “You’re not talking to Eoghan anymore.”
She began to storm off toward the house.
“Please,” Shane called to her, even if the manners he summoned lacked any politeness.
Tempted as she might be to test him, his usually pleasant disposition had been replaced with brewing annoyance she could feel from every part of his form. She turned, sat down, and stared straight ahead with the most miserable face she could muster.
“Everyone is thankful that you’re here. Me more than anyone. I know you think that I’m an enabler, but you have to understand that football and celebrity are all Eoghan has. He wouldn’t know what to do if he couldn’t play. That fear is making him irrational.”
Ayanna tried to read Shane’s pensive thoughts, but like her, he’d taken the master class at keeping them a mystery.
“You know this from experience?” she challenged.
“Yes,” he said. “I played. Eoghan, Pippin, and I played together.”
“You played? Professionally?” she questioned, surprised by her own ignorance.
“Better than Eoghan, he’d tell you.”
How had she not seen it before? The hoodie at Aviva. Liam at the bar alluding to him being clobbered, and Shane revealing himself as they went through the stadium like his very image was some sort of currency. Of course he’d played. Why had she never searched him on the internet? Because she’d been too busy with Eoghan, and the less she knew, the easier it was to walk away.
“We grew up wanting to dominate football, and we did for a time until I got hurt. I had a horrible time of it. Lost my girlfriend.” He choked on that last bit. “There was no coming back to the game for me. Luckily, the lads and me folks were supportive.”
A slight streak of jealousy ran up Ayanna’s spine, and she shivered. She reprimanded herself for feeling it while he shared so candidly about so much more, and she shoved it down. “What happened?”
“I broke my ankle. Tore my Achilles. The break was bad, and the surgery didn’t go well. I tried to come back, but no matter how hard I pushed, the leg has never been the same.”
“And your girlfriend?”
“Eileen.” Shane said the name like it was a mouthful. “She was great, so long as I was playing and the fame of dating me had its rewards. She wanted to have fun, not be in love and stick it out with her injured lover. So she moved on to another man.”
She reached for his hand and held it a moment before letting it go. “I’m sorry, Shane. That’s awful.” If he omitted any details, it was his prerogative, and given the painful memories, she couldn’t blame him.
“It was a very challenging time for me. I may not have been as bad as Eoghan, but I came pretty close, if you can believe it.” He rubbed his head. “So I do know what he’s going through, firsthand. Sometimes he just needs to be left with his thoughts.”
Ayanna didn’t know what else to say, so she said nothing.
“Thought you should know that you’re not doing this on your own. I can help you, even if it’s not always your way.”
She nodded. “Okay, but my rules still stand, Shane.”
“They’re good rules, but just like you want to help Eoghan, let me help you,” he said.
His face held the same tenderness it had when he’d spoken to her in the stands a few months ago, and Ayanna again questioned her feelings for Shane, which kept bubbling below the surface.
Ayanna stood. “Don’t ever command me to do anything again.”
“Neither you nor I would ever want me to make that promise.” His mischievous grin made clear his meaning, and Ayanna’s cheeks were hot and flushed.
“Good night, Shane,” she said and fled. She headed into the house and grabbed another beer before retiring to her room. She was already feeling the effects of the first and second one, but she wasn’t driving. No, she was coping—trying to, anyway. Her emotions were tricky to pinpoint, like an unsteady infrared on a rifle unable to scope its target. Eoghan was so different from the man she’d initially been attracted to in Dublin, and though she knew it was because of his injury, that fact didn’t seem to help. Then there was Shane, who seemed to be attracted to her and flirted with her at times but kept a fair distance from her in that department. Could she feel for Eoghan past their match-day surprise and the romantic moments that she’d sworn would stay in Dublin? Did she even want to?
And why the hell did her temperature rise every time she thought about or came in contact with Shane?
Chapter Sixteen
Shane tossed in bed, haunted by another dream of having her. He’d beaten one out of himself in the shower last night in hopes he’d get a restful sleep, but beyond his desire for her lay the tender way she’d listened to him and touched his hand as if his feelings were her own.
“Feck, lass,” he groaned into a pillow, squeezing it to him like he’d wanted to do to Ayanna countless times. Why did she have to be a woman both he and Eoghan wanted? Did Eoghan even want her, or had she just been a local convenience? With Eoghan’s ego, he couldn’t always tell.
Shane scrambled out of bed like his alarm had gone off. Why did he have to be so fucking honorable to the agreement between them? The pact hadn’t even been because of anything he’d done other than be a good boyfriend to Eileen. He’d given her his all even while injured, given her his black card to shop for anything that would make her happy, and fucked her as best he could even when he’d come dangerously close to blacking out from the excruciating pain in his leg as he’d tried to heal. Still, Eileen had set her sights on Eoghan.
Had it not been for his stepmother, who’d introduced him to the senior center in the Bronx, he didn’t know who he’d be today. Three years ago when his stepmother had brought him there for the first time, he’d been drowning in despair, heartache, and betrayal. He’d needed a trip away from Ireland—in fact, his life had depended on it. Volunteering at the center and taking care of others had taken the focus off himself and allowed him to truly start healing. The residents like Daphne, Martha, and Fred had since become his friends. Now as he stayed at Purchase House, he volunteered there every Thursday, and the change of scenery and sense of giving back helped him check his ego, but he still had a few days until Thursday.
He stripped naked to cool off, yet his mind wandered to how Ayanna would look in nothing at all. When she touched his bare chest, his thighs, would she attack him like she did her workouts or skim her fingers down his muscles like the way she lightly stroked the back of her hair?
Blood pumped through him. “Christ Church Cathedral.” He was hard again from his unruly thoughts. If he had any hope of getting back to himself, he had to get out of the house.
The fresh spring air invigorated Shane as soon as it hit him. The tension of the last few weeks had finally started to compress him like the black material of the Under Armour leggings he wore beneath his shorts, just not in a good way. However, as soon as he flipped his gray hoodie and his trainers hit the ground for his run, his lungs opened up and he remembered what it was like to move his body this way. He hadn’t been as consistent as he should with his exercise. He planned to change that and take advantage of the healthful environment, aside from living with and wanting a woman he couldn’t have, and easy access to the gym.
How’d he get into this situation again? He and Eoghan had promised to never date the same woman again after Eileen, but Shane had no idea how Eoghan felt about Ayanna now, given his sulky mood and ill-treatment of them all since he’d gotten here. Shane wasn’t even sure what their pact meant anymore or what he would do even if he did have the all clear to pursue Ayanna. He ran faster until the sharp pain in his ankle seized him. He slowed down and walked the rest of the way. He hadn’t taken any painkillers in weeks, but he might need one tonight.
When he returned to the house, he headed for the gym. He obviously needed to focus more on strengthening some of those muscles around his ankle. He heard a voice he didn’t recognize. Inside, Ayanna was working out, performing burpees, five by his current count, from a strength-and-conditioning workout via Peloton.
Feeeck! The brutal circuit kept going, and Ayanna looked right fit doing it. He heard her breathing, but she was smiling, enjoying every minute of it. She did a double take when she saw him, gave him a quick wave, and kept going.
“Five more seconds,” he heard the instructor say before continuing the countdown. “One and done.”
“Whew!” Ayanna huffed, pouring sweat that glistened over her brown skin.
If anyone knew how much he wanted to lick every drop off her, they might think him weird. “You do that every day? That’s a proper workout.”
She guzzled water. “I do something four, sometimes five days a week. It’s good for me to be strong and flexible for my work. I tell my students that all the time. Legs aren’t light. Neither is deadweight when someone can’t hold themselves up.”
He hadn’t thought on it. He’d always get worked on before matches and after but hadn’t really considered that his therapists were also keeping themselves strong and conditioned for their profession.
“Are you getting ready to work out?” she asked.
“Yeah. Had a run. Getting back into a routine,” he said.
“You should try it,” she suggested, pointing to the machine.
“Do you mind if I work out while you’re here? Or sometimes when you’re working on Eoghan?”
“Why would I mind? You’re exercising. Eoghan’s your friend. Plus, it might be a good thing to keep you accountable and on a schedule too.”
“Are you sure? If you want the privacy—”
“You’re good. Do your thing.” She toweled off and did her stretching while he worked on cardio.
He focused on a thigh machine, which happened to be in view of her yoga mat, and his wandering eyes kept sliding her way. Her flexible legs, balance, and coordination rivaled any athlete’s.
“What do you do for core?”
“Mostly floor exercise, crunches, planks, and the like,” he answered.
“Try yoga or Pilates.”
“Are you trying to get me on your routine, Ayanna?” He hadn’t meant to become a part of her workout in any way, but this was the most conversation they’d had in some time, and he remembered how interesting she was and how much he enjoyed talking with her.
“It’s good. Look, this is a chair pose.” She reached her arms up and sat back on her heels in a bit of a squat. “Try it.”
He did, and she came out of the pose and over to him. “Mind if I . . .” She mimed touching him.
“No, no. Go on.” He gave his body over to her freely.
She gripped his hips, and he faltered at her gentle, small hands on his waist. “Easy. Try to keep your balance. Stay grounded. Arms up, and tighten your core.” She continued to touch him on each area she mentioned, and he held his breath for fear he’d moan or embarrass himself in some other form.
“Breathe,” she whispered close to his ear.
Even with the growing intensity of the chair pose, the woman undid him. “Ayanna.”
“Hold for a couple more breaths.” She ran a hand down his back. “Keep it straight. Strong.”
Fuck me. He squeezed his lower abdomen and willed himself not to get hard.
“And stand up. Reach for the sky. Hands to the side. Follow your breath,” she instructed. “Good! How did that feel?”
“Fucking amazing.”
By the light crimson dusting her cheeks, he already knew that his complexion flared red with the heat she so easily ignited in him.
She busied herself with some arm stretches of her own. “You’d be surprised how great you feel. Especially Yin for stretching your leg.”
He bounced in place to shake out the tension in his body. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“With what?” she asked, eagerness in her voice.
Turning me on. “Fixing people.”
“I don’t fix people. I help them fix themselves.” She stopped midpose. “They just have to want to.”
Her words settled on a seat in his heart.
“Oi, finally decided to get back in form?” Eoghan chided him as he strutted in with a “the talent has arrived” vibe.
