Unless…
Unless what, Maize? Unless you seduce him and trick him into keeping you for a little longer? I almost snort at the idea as I walk to the examination room. The receptionist puts my file on the counter, and my stomach knots because I’ve yet to pay my bill. I was hoping once I got the boot off, and I could move around a little better, I’d apply for jobs on campus to help pay the medical costs. Christian’s payment only covered tuition and room and board, and I still can’t believe how this all turned out. The thing is though, when I become a successful lawyer, I plan to pay him back every cent. What happened was a freak accident, and while he was the one who threw the ball, an accident is an accident. The fault is not his, deep inside I know it, and I’m the one responsible for my own tuition.
“About payments,” I say and twist the strap on my purse. “I was hoping I could make installments.”
Her brow furrows like she has no idea what I’m talking about. Picking my file back up again, she flips through it. “Your bill has been paid, Maize. In full.”
I shake my head. “There must be some kind of mistake.”
She glances at the papers again, and shakes her head. “No, not a mistake.”
My mind races. Mom has no idea about the accident, so it’s not like she emptied her meager savings account and came to my rescue. Kaitlyn would have if she could have. She’s a scholarship student like me, without two cents to rub together. No, there is only one person who could have paid it, and I’m honestly not sure how I feel about that. I have no time to think about that though, not when the doctor is here to examine me.
He gives me a grandfatherly sympathetic smile. “How are you doing today, Maize?”
“I’m doing well, thank you. How are you?”
“Just fine,” he says. “How about you sit up here and let me have a look at your ankle.” As I walk to the examination table, he dims the lights, puts my X-rays up, and goes quiet as he looks them over.
“You’re healing quite nicely,” he says.
“Will I be able to run again?” I ask. Even though I’m off the team, I’d like to be able to run again someday just for exercise.
“I’m sure you will. But in time, maybe three to four months. Right now, we need to give you some strengthening exercises.” He turns the lights back on and I lay on the table as he removes my boot and feels around my ankle. “No swelling,” he says. “You’ve been taking very good care of yourself.”
I nod. I’ve had a very good caregiver. “Do I have to continue wearing the boot?”
“For at least a couple more weeks.”
“Do you think I’ll be better by Thanksgiving?”
“You should be pretty healed by then.”
“Able to go skiing?” I ask and shake my head. Now why on earth would I ask that? I have absolutely no plans to go with Christian. I miss my mother, and want to see her.
He laughs. “I’m afraid not.” He steps back and writes something in his file. “You don’t want to push it and have lifelong trouble. So, stay off it, and keep that boot on for another few weeks. We’ll set up another appointment.”
I nod, and while I hate the idea of wearing the boot longer, there is a part of me that is a little excited about it. As long as I have the boot, Christian won’t let me leave. Not that I can go back to my apartment. Not with the leaks and I’ll believe a new roof is going on when I see it.
After the doctor leaves, I put my boot back on and Christian stands when I enter the waiting room. He hurries over to me, and a little flutter goes through my body as he slides a hand around my back, and looks at me with questioning eyes.
“It’s healing nicely, and I should only have this thing on,” I lift my leg to show him the boot, “for a few more weeks.”
“That’s not so bad.” He leads me outside, helps me into his Jeep and I can’t seem to take my eyes off him as he circles the vehicle and climbs in. He checks his watch.
“You’re not going to be late, are you?” It’s Friday night, and there’s a home game he needs to get ready for, which is the only reason I’m not bringing up my bill. It will lead to an argument, especially when I’ll insist on paying him back. I don’t want him upset when he plays.
He reaches across and gives my hand a squeeze, and my sex muscles clench. Crawling into bed, with him on a cot beside me, has not left me with much privacy. Privacy to touch myself, while imagining it’s Christian’s hands on my body, on my breasts, and between my legs. Never in my life have I been so sexually frustrated.
“No, we’re good,” he says. “You going to stay in and study?”
I shrug. “I guess.” He’s not asked me to go to any games, and honestly, I’m not sure I want to hear all the girls screaming his name. He’s not been ‘fucking’ as far as I know. When he’s not at practice, games, classes or studying with me at the library, we’re in his room. Although he does disappear on Sundays for a couple of hours at a time, and never tell me where he’s going. I guess it’s none of my business. That doesn’t stop the curiosity though.
My phone pings and I fish it from my purse. He casts me a glance. “Kaitlyn,” I tell him.
I read her text, asking me how my appointment went, and I text her back and tell her. I stare at the phone until her response comes in, and I
