Page 10 of Second Chance to Score

One of the things Steph and I had bonded over during the course of our friendship was having terrible fathers. Although in fairness, mine might be a misogynist asshole but he wasn’t an abusive drunk like Steph’s had been.

“Your father knows your ex?”

“Yeah, Robbie plays for him. He’s a kicker.”

Steph reared back in surprise. “Wait, your ex is Robbie Mason? The football player for the Cougars?”

Another thing Steph and I had bonded over was football. We usually went to a couple of games together every season.

“Yeah, you didn’t know that?”

“No.” Steph topped off our glasses of wine. “All the games we saw him in, and you never said a word. I need more details please.”

“There’s not a lot of details to give. After college he was drafted for the Cougars and has played for my father ever since. Now he’s injured and my father heard that I...,” I made air quotes with my fingers, “helped some gal who plays soccer and figured maybe I could help Robbie.”

“Don’t they have PT people on the team?”

“Yeah, but my father is one to try anything to get what he wants, even if it involves a backhanded acknowledgement that I might actually be good at my job. At least after the men who work for him recommended me.”

I took a sip of my wine.

“Even though I refused to do it, Robbie showed up for an appointment and since he was there, I examined him. God help me Steph, but I’m still attracted to him. That man has aged like a fine wine. I could hardly focus on my exam, I just wanted to roll him on his back and ride him until we were both screaming in release.”

Steph’s eyes were as wide as saucers, probably because she’d never heard me talk like this before.

“Did he seem happy to see you? Or how was he?”

“His penis was happy. It crawled right out of his boxers to greet me.”

“What?” Steph’s voice pitched high enough that neighboring tables turned to stare. She cleared her throat. “He flashed you?”

“Not intentionally. He had a hard-on, which sometimes happens with guys when you’re examining them, so we’re trained to just ignore it. I was manipulating his leg in different positions trying to assess his hip, and the little guy peeked out from the fly of his boxers.”

“Little guy?” she laughed.

I felt myself blush. “You know how you call a fat guy tiny?”

She nodded.

“Let’s just say there’s nothing little about Robbie.”

“Girl, maybe you should hit that. Just for old time’s sake.”

I shook my head violently. “No way.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I spend time with him, there’s no way I won’t fall back in love with him.”

“Would that be so bad?” she asked.

“Yeah, it would be a disaster.”

Twenty years ago...

I lay on Robbie’s shoulder, idly playing with his chest hair. He had the perfect amount of hair, not too little, not furry. He’d been gone for two away games and between that and my own schedule, I hadn’t seen him in two weeks. Way too long for either of us. The minute he’d gotten to my apartment I’d latched myself to him like a koala bear. He’d unzipped his jeans, shoved my panties to the side, and fucked me right against the front door.

Good thing my roommate wasn’t home.