Page 33 of The Goalie in Room 1

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because you’re my patient.”

I rolled my eyes. “And I have a buddy who fucked his coach, who happened to be his dad’s best friend. I’m a fucking adult. And so are you. We met and were attracted to one another before all this, Doc. We get to choose⁠—”

“That’s not how medical licensing boards look at it,” he said, interrupting me.

“What are you talking about?”

“There are ethical issues around doctors dating or fucking their patients,” Thad said, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, the fucking seeming to get hung up in his throat a little.

I stepped away with a sigh, my arms crossing over my chest. “So you’re telling me I can have you in my bed or I can have you in the operating room but not both?”

“Yes.”

His hand slid into the front pockets of the dress pants he wore. The material stretched tight over his groin, highlighting that he was just as hard as I still was.

I couldn’t help the smirk that played at my lips as his eyes locked on my hand and the cock I palmed. I gave it a squeeze as I adjusted myself. I’d place money on him not realizing how closely he tracked the movement or that his tongue licked his lips as if he hungered for a taste.

God, I’d love to have that man’s beard burning my thighs while my dick stretched those luscious lips still wet from the best kiss I could ever remember. “Well, that tracks with how shitty my life has always been.”

I turned back to the desk where I left the binder Davina gave me.

“What’s that mean?”

I laughed, holding up the binder and waving it around. “I have around twelve grand to my name and no health insurance, Doc. I can’t afford your miraculous cure. The Breakers are only obligated to pay for shit to maintain the knee I have.”

Twelve instead of fifteen because I’d purchased money orders for Mrs. P so she couldn’t refuse the rent I owed for over staying the end of the lease.

“I’m not worried about the payment, Cash. Anyone who is a resident at Halo House is covered financially⁠—”

“Absolutely fucking not. No. I’m no charity case. Just living there without pitching in⁠—”

“Cash, you aren’t a charity case. You are a smart, resourceful guy taking advantage⁠—”

“Of a program. Yeah, Doc, sounds like a charity case.”

“Cash, I donate hundreds of thousands of dollars in free and discounted healthcare to Halo House a year. If it’s outside my wheelhouse, I hand it off to a network of doctors I’ve compiled who do the same. This surgery will be just another tax break for me. It’s a life-changing opportunity for you. Hopefully a game changer, but it doesn’t make you a charity case. It would make me your patron. It’s how Halo House functions. It’s how we help residents⁠—”

“Well,” I interrupted, “you let the medical licensing board make decisions for you, so how about you let me determine what makes me a fucking charity case, since I’m the expert on how that feels,” I said, dropping the binder on the desk before leaving the office and him behind.

I couldn’t get away fast enough. I’d behaved like an ass. I knew it. I owned it. And now I needed to put space between us. Especially with the trauma of my childhood echoing in my head. Trauma I locked away years ago. Sometimes it leaked out though. Sometimes something smashed the box to smithereens.

This shit with my knee had pulverized the fucking thing.

Sunlight nearly blinded me when I shoved through the building’s entrance and stepped onto the sidewalk. Thad’s offices were in the medical pavilion next to the hospital. A pedway connected the two buildings. I stared up at the rays of sunlight filtering between the buildings. The hustle of people overwhelmed me after several bumped into me with little more than a muttered apology.

I turned, walking away from the hospital to the small outdoor space I knew sat just a few blocks away. Whenever I had imaging appointments at the hospital, I always came here to wait for someone to pick me up.

In the beginning, it had been one of the guys or someone from the team. But then the second surgery happened, and the guys had been working their asses off to make the playoffs, so I’d stopped asking. Then the third surgery happened, and I stopped asking anyone for anything. I could see the pity in their eyes.

Why the team hadn’t referred me to Thad in the beginning, I didn’t know. If I ever saw any of those fuckers, that would be the first question I asked.

Before I made it to the park, my unbraced knee protested—the pace or just the walking in general, who knew. Spending so long on my feet on Halloween still had me fucked up. Walking or standing for long without being braced wasn’t advisable, but neither was biting off the head of the doctor who just offered to do my surgery for fucking free.

I just couldn’t bring myself to let him do it. It probably would save him thousands of dollars in taxes if he could classify it as a donation to Halo House, but I couldn’t fathom letting someone give me that kind of cash. Especially not someone whose cock I wanted to ride.

Karma, life, whatever you wanted to call it, hated me. I’d known that my entire life. My earliest memory began the pattern, and today nailed the lid shut on the box I locked all the evidence in until the next time I allowed hope to loosen the top.