Status: *** I plan to update every few days. Thanks for any comments/feedback received!
She's Not Afraid
Four
After class I headed to work. As usual, we were pretty slammed and I wasn't expecting less when I walked in my office with a pile of appointments. I was stacked for the next 5 hours with no time in between to even have a routine cup of coffee.
I settled through the list, one by one, my clients came in. I adjusted, massaged, oiled, coughed, laughed and I even made someone cry today. It wasn't my fault, she was just really sore. It was a relief to know that I was landing on my last client of the day, the name was recognizable.
"Sup Celeste." James walked through the door, dressed like an actual person and not some hobo athlete like other day. "It's been 24 hours, how ya feeling?" He was sincere, his eye focused on me the entire time as he sat in the chair in front of me.
"Actually, much better."
"I take all the credit, of course."
"Of course," I smiled. "So we actually get to play around today. Chris sent me your sheet, oblique soreness?" I looked at him directly, he nodded his head.
"It pulls when I go to shoot."
"Let me get a look." I stand in front of James. "Pull up your shirt, please." I request. No smart remarks. For once, James Neal was being serious.
"How does that feel?" I press my hand slowly into his side, moving my fingers counter-clockwise, he groaned slightly. His muscle was tight, this poor boy hasn't worked this muscle in days, no wonder it's sore.
"Okay. Well, you definitely need to loosen that muscle. I assume you've been working out and working with the training staff but you haven't been using the muscle which is causing it to tighten up which is keeping you from playing. With training and a regular massage, you should be back on the ice by next week."
James looked at me confused, like he had no idea what I was saying. He just smiled and nodded his head. "So is this where I take my shirt off now?" He asked.
I lead him to my work station. A medium-sized room with lots of cabinets, massage tables, a TV and my iPod dock. Photos lined the walls like old hockey and soccer photos, inspirational quotes and of course, my massage and CPR certificate courtesy of the University of Pittsburgh.
"We can do it however you'd like, shirtless or shirt on, it's up to comfortability."
Without hesitation James ripped off his shirt revealing his lean stomach. He had abs, no doubt, but they weren't overly worked. Perfectly visible but not in-your-face. No chest hair, he was bald which is surprising due to the amount of hair that grows on his face during playoffs. However, he had a slight trail of hair from his belly button down to his...pants. His v-lines were pretty nice too, just like the abs they were perfectly visible.
I coughed. I meant to cough. It's my way of distraction, I didn't need him to know I was checking him out even though I was certain he already knew I was.
"Okay, just lay down there and we'll get started."
He hopped up on the table, back flat out and completely relaxed.
***
I watched Celeste grab the oils from the cupboard, she was so adorable standing on her tip-toes like that. If you could have seen her face when I took my shirt off, damn, she was busted but she tried to cover it up with a cough. It was cute.
"Just relax. Let me know if I'm hurting you or something." I grinned watching her every movement. She smelt amazing, like flowers but not roses. Something exotic, it was intoxicating.
Her hands felt my hip, they were warm from the oil. She worked the muscle in circles while applying small amounts of pressure.
"Holy shit..." I couldn't help myself, it felt like nothing I've ever felt before. I've had plenty of sports-related massages before but not like this one. Not by a very attractive woman.
Celeste looked focused, like she was on a mission. No smiles, no jokes, all seriousness.
"So what are the types of massages?" The awkward silence went on for too long.
"Ummm. There's sports, Swedish, reiki, aromatherapy, Shiatsu, stone and..." she went quiet.
"And what?" She looked at me hesitantly.
"Oh you know what!" She quipped, looking uncomfortable. I knew exactly what she meant.
"Hand jobs." We both started laughing.
***
"There. All done." I went over to the sink, washing my hands from the stench of nasty body oil.
"You have great hands. Best. Massage. Ever." James put his shirt back on, his abs stretching as he did so. Jesus Celeste. Stop checking him out.
"It should help your recovery even just a little bit."
"So do you have any plans later?" I knew he was going to ask this. I just had this feeling, he was adamant.
"Actually, I do." I turned around to see James guarding the only door out.
"Like what? Surely you can cancel." He suggested.
"Nope." I dry off my hands, grabbing my clipboard. "But if you want, you could come with. The kids would freak out." I pushed James out of the way, sliding past him.
"Kids?"
"Oh, I hope your skates are in your trunk."
***
I followed Celeste to The Ice Castle. Apparently it's an ice rink.
"Are we going skating?" I couldn't help but crack up. "You know I'm a professional, right?"
Celeste turned around, walking backwards towards the door. "You're point being? Remember, I could've played for the national team...have you even played for yours?"
Her words cut like daggers. "Actually, I was called to training camp this summer thank you very much."
I ran to catch up to her, holding the door open she walked past me, waved to the front desk staff and proceeded to the back.
"Where are you going?" She was walking fast, I could barely keep up.
"Practice." She grabbed two hockey sticks from a rack before lacing up her skates. Hockey skates. She wears hockey skates. This girl.
I laced up mine, grabbed the stick she practically threw at me and followed her onto the ice. About 15 kids were skating around, dressed head to toe in hockey gear. Two other guys were standing off to the side with clipboards in their hands.
"Ah Celeste! Running a little late today, eh?" The guy with the spikey hair said. My hair is ten times better than his.
"My appointment ran late. Tyler, Rob, this is..."
"James Neal." Both guys went in for a handshake.
"Yeah. Figured he could help us out today since he's a professional and all." She nudged me in the side.
"Fantastic. James Neal, welcome to the Pittsburgh Predators practice." The guys skated off towards the kids. Celeste followed.
"Hey!" I caught up with her, she was a fast one. "You never told me you coached hockey!" This girl is absolutely amazing. She loves hockey, plays and coaches hockey, she's funny and hot as fuck.
"You never asked." She smiled. "Kids. I'd like to introduce you to someone. This is James Neal, he's a member of the Pittsburgh Penguins and Nealer here, has been kind enough to volunteer his help in practice today."
They all cheered, some banging their sticks on the ice. You get used to seeing people cheer for you when you're on the ice but it's different when it's a bunch of kids. To them, you're their superman. You never know, one of these kids could have my poster hanging on their wall.
It was insane.
I helped out as much as I could with practice without getting in the way. I was astounded by the joy these kids had for the game; it brought me back to when I was playing peewee hockey back in Whitby.
And Celeste. She was a great coach, very respected among the kids and even her assistants. Her skating ability was incredible and her patience was one-of-a-kind. The things I would do to see her on the ice for real, playing herself.
"So this is what you do for a second job?" I found her on the blue line, whistle in mouth as the kids did the dreaded suicides.
"Nah, just for fun. Predators hockey is all volunteer, it's for the kids not us. Like I said yesterday, I love the game too much. I don't need to get paid to coach. Just seeing them out here on the ice, wanting to be here and seeing the smiles on their faces when they score or get back up after a huge fall; that's why I do it."
"Have I told you you're amazing?" She took the whistle from her mouth.
"You're pretty amazing yourself."
***
After practice I watched the kids bombard James. He was laughing and posing for photos with each of them, signing whatever they wanted.
At one point he looked over at me and waved. He could be so adorable at times. .
James Neal wasn't who I thought he'd be. He cared and he was damned determined. He worked his charm and I was falling for it.
Every last drop.
I settled through the list, one by one, my clients came in. I adjusted, massaged, oiled, coughed, laughed and I even made someone cry today. It wasn't my fault, she was just really sore. It was a relief to know that I was landing on my last client of the day, the name was recognizable.
"Sup Celeste." James walked through the door, dressed like an actual person and not some hobo athlete like other day. "It's been 24 hours, how ya feeling?" He was sincere, his eye focused on me the entire time as he sat in the chair in front of me.
"Actually, much better."
"I take all the credit, of course."
"Of course," I smiled. "So we actually get to play around today. Chris sent me your sheet, oblique soreness?" I looked at him directly, he nodded his head.
"It pulls when I go to shoot."
"Let me get a look." I stand in front of James. "Pull up your shirt, please." I request. No smart remarks. For once, James Neal was being serious.
"How does that feel?" I press my hand slowly into his side, moving my fingers counter-clockwise, he groaned slightly. His muscle was tight, this poor boy hasn't worked this muscle in days, no wonder it's sore.
"Okay. Well, you definitely need to loosen that muscle. I assume you've been working out and working with the training staff but you haven't been using the muscle which is causing it to tighten up which is keeping you from playing. With training and a regular massage, you should be back on the ice by next week."
James looked at me confused, like he had no idea what I was saying. He just smiled and nodded his head. "So is this where I take my shirt off now?" He asked.
I lead him to my work station. A medium-sized room with lots of cabinets, massage tables, a TV and my iPod dock. Photos lined the walls like old hockey and soccer photos, inspirational quotes and of course, my massage and CPR certificate courtesy of the University of Pittsburgh.
"We can do it however you'd like, shirtless or shirt on, it's up to comfortability."
Without hesitation James ripped off his shirt revealing his lean stomach. He had abs, no doubt, but they weren't overly worked. Perfectly visible but not in-your-face. No chest hair, he was bald which is surprising due to the amount of hair that grows on his face during playoffs. However, he had a slight trail of hair from his belly button down to his...pants. His v-lines were pretty nice too, just like the abs they were perfectly visible.
I coughed. I meant to cough. It's my way of distraction, I didn't need him to know I was checking him out even though I was certain he already knew I was.
"Okay, just lay down there and we'll get started."
He hopped up on the table, back flat out and completely relaxed.
***
I watched Celeste grab the oils from the cupboard, she was so adorable standing on her tip-toes like that. If you could have seen her face when I took my shirt off, damn, she was busted but she tried to cover it up with a cough. It was cute.
"Just relax. Let me know if I'm hurting you or something." I grinned watching her every movement. She smelt amazing, like flowers but not roses. Something exotic, it was intoxicating.
Her hands felt my hip, they were warm from the oil. She worked the muscle in circles while applying small amounts of pressure.
"Holy shit..." I couldn't help myself, it felt like nothing I've ever felt before. I've had plenty of sports-related massages before but not like this one. Not by a very attractive woman.
Celeste looked focused, like she was on a mission. No smiles, no jokes, all seriousness.
"So what are the types of massages?" The awkward silence went on for too long.
"Ummm. There's sports, Swedish, reiki, aromatherapy, Shiatsu, stone and..." she went quiet.
"And what?" She looked at me hesitantly.
"Oh you know what!" She quipped, looking uncomfortable. I knew exactly what she meant.
"Hand jobs." We both started laughing.
***
"There. All done." I went over to the sink, washing my hands from the stench of nasty body oil.
"You have great hands. Best. Massage. Ever." James put his shirt back on, his abs stretching as he did so. Jesus Celeste. Stop checking him out.
"It should help your recovery even just a little bit."
"So do you have any plans later?" I knew he was going to ask this. I just had this feeling, he was adamant.
"Actually, I do." I turned around to see James guarding the only door out.
"Like what? Surely you can cancel." He suggested.
"Nope." I dry off my hands, grabbing my clipboard. "But if you want, you could come with. The kids would freak out." I pushed James out of the way, sliding past him.
"Kids?"
"Oh, I hope your skates are in your trunk."
***
I followed Celeste to The Ice Castle. Apparently it's an ice rink.
"Are we going skating?" I couldn't help but crack up. "You know I'm a professional, right?"
Celeste turned around, walking backwards towards the door. "You're point being? Remember, I could've played for the national team...have you even played for yours?"
Her words cut like daggers. "Actually, I was called to training camp this summer thank you very much."
I ran to catch up to her, holding the door open she walked past me, waved to the front desk staff and proceeded to the back.
"Where are you going?" She was walking fast, I could barely keep up.
"Practice." She grabbed two hockey sticks from a rack before lacing up her skates. Hockey skates. She wears hockey skates. This girl.
I laced up mine, grabbed the stick she practically threw at me and followed her onto the ice. About 15 kids were skating around, dressed head to toe in hockey gear. Two other guys were standing off to the side with clipboards in their hands.
"Ah Celeste! Running a little late today, eh?" The guy with the spikey hair said. My hair is ten times better than his.
"My appointment ran late. Tyler, Rob, this is..."
"James Neal." Both guys went in for a handshake.
"Yeah. Figured he could help us out today since he's a professional and all." She nudged me in the side.
"Fantastic. James Neal, welcome to the Pittsburgh Predators practice." The guys skated off towards the kids. Celeste followed.
"Hey!" I caught up with her, she was a fast one. "You never told me you coached hockey!" This girl is absolutely amazing. She loves hockey, plays and coaches hockey, she's funny and hot as fuck.
"You never asked." She smiled. "Kids. I'd like to introduce you to someone. This is James Neal, he's a member of the Pittsburgh Penguins and Nealer here, has been kind enough to volunteer his help in practice today."
They all cheered, some banging their sticks on the ice. You get used to seeing people cheer for you when you're on the ice but it's different when it's a bunch of kids. To them, you're their superman. You never know, one of these kids could have my poster hanging on their wall.
It was insane.
I helped out as much as I could with practice without getting in the way. I was astounded by the joy these kids had for the game; it brought me back to when I was playing peewee hockey back in Whitby.
And Celeste. She was a great coach, very respected among the kids and even her assistants. Her skating ability was incredible and her patience was one-of-a-kind. The things I would do to see her on the ice for real, playing herself.
"So this is what you do for a second job?" I found her on the blue line, whistle in mouth as the kids did the dreaded suicides.
"Nah, just for fun. Predators hockey is all volunteer, it's for the kids not us. Like I said yesterday, I love the game too much. I don't need to get paid to coach. Just seeing them out here on the ice, wanting to be here and seeing the smiles on their faces when they score or get back up after a huge fall; that's why I do it."
"Have I told you you're amazing?" She took the whistle from her mouth.
"You're pretty amazing yourself."
***
After practice I watched the kids bombard James. He was laughing and posing for photos with each of them, signing whatever they wanted.
At one point he looked over at me and waved. He could be so adorable at times. .
James Neal wasn't who I thought he'd be. He cared and he was damned determined. He worked his charm and I was falling for it.
Every last drop.