there with her. "She's just weird, Evan. I don't want her in the bathroom with me eyeing my goods. Will you just wash my back? That's all."
She sensed my hesitation right away.
"Listen, it's not like I'm asking you to give me a rub down. I just need help around the bandages on my back."
I didn't know where the hell her nurse was, but fuck if I didn't want to be the guy that gave her a bath. It seemed inappropriate to do so, but when she dropped the robe, I gave in. Her arms covered her front as she hunched over the tub.
Friends do this, right?
So far since I brought her in, I had practically seen her naked. It was easier seeing her this time, not as difficult as it was seeing her that night with all the blood and bruises covering her body. Now she'd healed and looked considerably different.
Her skin, still milky white, was smooth and innocent. She looked healthy.
I was officially a pervert. Look at me eyeing this girl .
I should have stopped there and got the nurse before actually putting my hands on her, but I didn't and I knew it would fuck me later.
"Don't be afraid," she said, sighing. "I trust you."
The problem was I wasn't so sure I trusted myself right then.
There was a sponge sitting on the edge of the small tub, so I reached for that. I couldn't see everything, but my male hormones were filling in the blanks nicely.
It was hard. Speaking of hard. Fuck.
Taking a deep breath, I stuck the sponge under the running water, checking the temperature. I soaked it and then brought it to her back. I was stiff at first, taken by surprise that she would want, let alone trust me, to do this for her.
After a moment, I saw her inhale and take a deep, relaxing breath. All my motions felt tight and shaky. I could barely hold the fucking sponge steady. The further I went, the stiffer I became, and I was frustrated that I couldn't get my shit together.
All she asked me to do was wash her back around the gauze, and once I was finished, I stood quickly, wanting to get the hell out of that bathroom before I did something stupid.
"Thank you," she said over her shoulder, keeping her arms wrapped around her chest, the robe pooling around her waist.
I gave a response, probably a nod—I wasn't really sure—and left the room to wait outside.
Ami was in there another ten minutes as she finished washing the areas she could reach on her own, and I sat in her room thinking.
Not good thoughts either. Dirty thoughts I had no business thinking.
When she finally came out, her hair was wet, skin pink and relaxed. "I feel better," she said as she passed by me to get back into her bed. I helped her adjust the blankets and then kissed her forehead. Yeah, not cool, but I did.
"I gotta go. I'm leaving for Dallas in the morning."
Her cheeks, warmer now, spoke for her. She either liked the kiss or she was about to knock some sense into me. "Thanks…for your help."
With a tight nod, I left.
Ami was young, and she was innocent. She didn't know herself and had been through something horrible. She didn't need an overly aggressive hockey player wanting her in ways overly aggressive hockey players wanted women.
But sadly, I was left there wondering what she would think of me and if she wanted something more than a friendship eventually.
I wanted to know her, too. That was what got me. I wanted to really know her. I wanted to know everything about her, like what her favorite food was so I could order her dinner without blinking an eye or shopping for her without having to think long and hard about what she would like. I just wanted to know her.
Game 58 – Dallas Stars
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I couldn't get Ami out of my head.
I would lay there in bed, think of her, get mad that I was thinking of her in ways I shouldn't, and then have to get up and work out just to focus on something else. A few things happened. I got in better shape, sure, but I also never slept. That right there wasn't good for me considering the focus I
She sensed my hesitation right away.
"Listen, it's not like I'm asking you to give me a rub down. I just need help around the bandages on my back."
I didn't know where the hell her nurse was, but fuck if I didn't want to be the guy that gave her a bath. It seemed inappropriate to do so, but when she dropped the robe, I gave in. Her arms covered her front as she hunched over the tub.
Friends do this, right?
So far since I brought her in, I had practically seen her naked. It was easier seeing her this time, not as difficult as it was seeing her that night with all the blood and bruises covering her body. Now she'd healed and looked considerably different.
Her skin, still milky white, was smooth and innocent. She looked healthy.
I was officially a pervert. Look at me eyeing this girl .
I should have stopped there and got the nurse before actually putting my hands on her, but I didn't and I knew it would fuck me later.
"Don't be afraid," she said, sighing. "I trust you."
The problem was I wasn't so sure I trusted myself right then.
There was a sponge sitting on the edge of the small tub, so I reached for that. I couldn't see everything, but my male hormones were filling in the blanks nicely.
It was hard. Speaking of hard. Fuck.
Taking a deep breath, I stuck the sponge under the running water, checking the temperature. I soaked it and then brought it to her back. I was stiff at first, taken by surprise that she would want, let alone trust me, to do this for her.
After a moment, I saw her inhale and take a deep, relaxing breath. All my motions felt tight and shaky. I could barely hold the fucking sponge steady. The further I went, the stiffer I became, and I was frustrated that I couldn't get my shit together.
All she asked me to do was wash her back around the gauze, and once I was finished, I stood quickly, wanting to get the hell out of that bathroom before I did something stupid.
"Thank you," she said over her shoulder, keeping her arms wrapped around her chest, the robe pooling around her waist.
I gave a response, probably a nod—I wasn't really sure—and left the room to wait outside.
Ami was in there another ten minutes as she finished washing the areas she could reach on her own, and I sat in her room thinking.
Not good thoughts either. Dirty thoughts I had no business thinking.
When she finally came out, her hair was wet, skin pink and relaxed. "I feel better," she said as she passed by me to get back into her bed. I helped her adjust the blankets and then kissed her forehead. Yeah, not cool, but I did.
"I gotta go. I'm leaving for Dallas in the morning."
Her cheeks, warmer now, spoke for her. She either liked the kiss or she was about to knock some sense into me. "Thanks…for your help."
With a tight nod, I left.
Ami was young, and she was innocent. She didn't know herself and had been through something horrible. She didn't need an overly aggressive hockey player wanting her in ways overly aggressive hockey players wanted women.
But sadly, I was left there wondering what she would think of me and if she wanted something more than a friendship eventually.
I wanted to know her, too. That was what got me. I wanted to really know her. I wanted to know everything about her, like what her favorite food was so I could order her dinner without blinking an eye or shopping for her without having to think long and hard about what she would like. I just wanted to know her.
Game 58 – Dallas Stars
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I couldn't get Ami out of my head.
I would lay there in bed, think of her, get mad that I was thinking of her in ways I shouldn't, and then have to get up and work out just to focus on something else. A few things happened. I got in better shape, sure, but I also never slept. That right there wasn't good for me considering the focus I
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