Roughing the Kicker (Austin Troopers)

Chapter Five

J esus. Could he just get out of here? Rye didn’t know what the hell had happened, but now, in addition to his aching back, he had a raging hard on, and an athletic trainer with an amused smirk on his face. One who was also asking too many personal questions.

“No. What else would be going on?” Just my fiancée slamming me against the refrigerator door, and then later trying to seduce me as if nothing had happened. Yet Rye felt nothing, no arousal at all, when Kristen touched him. There was something about Cutter’s hands on his back, though, that was safe, comforting, and oddly arousing at the same time.

And it didn’t escape the trainer’s notice, judging from the smirk that passed over his face. It disappeared fast enough, though—Cutter’s smirk, that is. Rye’s erection was taking longer to go away.

“I don’t know,” Cutter said with a shrug that he probably intended to be casual, but came across as if he were trying too hard. “That’s what I’m asking. Look, Rye, I know a thing or two about bruising and football injuries,” he said, “and that doesn’t look like a bruise that came from contact in a game. That’s all I’m saying. I’m not trying to pry. I only want to make sure you’re okay. That there’s nothing else going on that you might want to talk to somebody about.”

Talk to somebody about the fact his fiancée was a cocaine addict with a propensity for slapping him around when she was high? That was for sure not happening, and certainly not with anyone affiliated with the team

“Everything is fine,” Rye said a little too tersely. “Other than a sore back from the hit I rook in yesterday’s game. The football game, Cutter. I don’t care what you think you know about bruising and all that, but I’m the one who was there. On the field. I know what happened. It was the game, okay?”

The trainer backed away a little bit, nodding his head as he did. “Got it. Sorry if the question upset you. You’re right. I don’t know anything. I wasn’t in the game,” Cutter said. “I hope it gets better soon. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He’d like more of Cutter’s magical hands on his back, but he could do without the personal questions. Rye grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, grateful his erection had subsided.

“I will. Thanks again, Cutter.” He tried for a friendlier tone. Nothing good would come from snapping at a well-intentioned trainer who was only doing his job.

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for.”

Rye left the training room, closing the door behind him and leaning against the wall. He closed as eyes as his mind replayed what happened. What the heck was that all about, anyway? He hadn’t gotten hard from a man’s touch since... No. Not going there. Sure, Cutter was handsome enough, if that’s what one was into, and he was reportedly into guys. But Rye wasn’t. No way, no how. Getting turned on by Cutter’s touch was only a one-time flukey thing, just like it had been with Max. Right?

“Rye?” Coach J’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Did you get your back looked at?”

Rye snapped his eyes open and nodded. “Yes, Coach. Cutter examined it, and he doesn’t have any concern about broken ribs or anything. Just some soreness and bruising that should be better in a few days,” he said. “I’ll be fine for Thursday.”

“Good. Take the rest of the day off,” Coach J said. “We’ll reassess tomorrow and see if you’re ready to practice. If not, you don’t. We’ll have to add you to the injury report if that happens, though.” He let out a chuckle. “You might give your fantasy football owners a heart attack when they see an injury designation by your name, though. Especially for an early game.”

Rye laughed, too. “Probably, but I’m not planning on that being an issue. Barring a big setback, I’m not missing any practice time.” No way was he going to let his personal problems get the better of his game preparation.

~&~

Cutter waited until Rye had left the training room before going down the hall and knocking on the door of his boss’s office. He waited for Rosie to yell “Come in,” before pushing the door open.

This was probably a bad idea. He should mind his own business. Maybe the bruise was from the game. Or maybe Rye was clumsy. Maybe it was the result of harmless fun, or rough sex with his fiancée. No, his mind sure didn’t want to go there.

“What’s going on?” Rosie asked, taking off her reading glasses as she looked up from her desk. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Cutter helped himself to one of the plush chairs opposite Rosie’s desk in her well-appointed office. Her diplomas from the University of Texas at San Antonio were displayed on the wall, and the credenza behind her desk was filled with photos of her and Margie. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Rosie nodded. “Okay.”

“We’re friends, right?” Cutter asked. “I mean, I know you’re my boss, but I’ve come to think of you as a friend, too.” Hopefully, he hadn’t overstepped too much or assumed something that wasn’t there.

“Likewise,” Rosie said, smiling. “We socialize after games. You’ve been to my house for dinner. Yes, we’re friends. So, what’s on your mind, Cutter?” The doctor asked. “Although if you’re about to offer me your resignation, I hereby reject it.”

Cutter chuckled as he relaxed against the back of the chair. “It’s not that. I know a good gig when I have it.” He crossed his legs and studied the doctor’s academic credentials on the wall. “I have this other friend, more of an acquaintance, really, and I’m kind of worried about them.”

“Worried how?”

Cutter hesitated. He’d come this far. He couldn’t exactly take it back now. Still, he had to be careful how much he said. “It might be nothing, or it might be the case of my medical training leading to an overactive imagination,” he said, “but my friend... I noticed unusual bruising on them, the kind of thing that doesn’t look accidental.” Or from a sports injury. He couldn’t say that, though, without risking Rye’s identity.

“Are you saying you think it’s a domestic violence situation?”

“I... maybe.” Was he simply assuming the worst because he’d never liked Rye’s fiancée? Or because he was interested in the sexy football player himself? “I think so, but when I tried to casually ask about the bruise, they deflected the question. Made excuses. Which we know is common in domestic situations.”

“Right,” Rosie said. “Been there, seen it, own the T-shirt.”

“What?” Cutter frowned. “You?” It was difficult to envision his strong, independent boss ever being a victim, but then again, if a millionaire professional football player could be a victim of domestic violence, then so could a tough, no-nonsense doctor.

“Not me, no,” Rosie was quick to say. “But once upon a time, I had a very good friend, and she was involved in a relationship that I... well, I didn’t fully approve of. Mainly because I thought it was unhealthy for her, but also probably because I was a little jealous, too, because I was interested in her myself.”

Ouch. Talk about hitting too close to home. “What did you do?”

“Tried to confront her about my suspicions, resulting in a big, ugly argument and almost ruined a great friendship,” she said.

“Almost?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, almost. In the end, things worked out okay for me, but if I had it to do over again, I’m not sure I’d take the same approach.”

“What are you saying?” Cutter asked.

“Probably too much,” his boss said, “which is why I’m shutting up now. Except to offer one piece of advice.”

“What’s that?”

“Tread softly, Cutter, and consider the ramifications. These situations aren’t easy for anyone involved.”