After The Fire (One Pass Away Book 3) by Mary J. Williams Page B

learning each other’s every move, practically reading each
    other’s thoughts. Gaige never stopped looking downfield. He saw
    everything—including the exact moment Sean left the defense in the dust.
    Gaige didn’t hesitate. This time, the ball wasn’t flying
    fifty yards downfield. He sent a slant pass. Hard—with plenty of zip. It had
    enough force to break a man’s ribs. But Sean caught it in his sure hands,
    tucked it under his arm, and ran.
    Touchdown. Behind the mask of his dark blue helmet, Gaige
    grinned. Despite his friend’s ribbing, the surge that went through him wasn’t
    sexual. He didn’t get an erection. His muscles vibrated with power. His body
    was an instrument, and he knew how to play it like a master.
    Strong—and blessedly durable. Gaige didn’t know why he
    stayed healthy. It wasn’t always about being in the best physical condition.
    Some bodies simply weren’t built for the wear and tear of football.
    He started playing this game when he was thirteen. In all
    that time, the most serious injury he had sustained was during his junior year
    of high school. The sprained ankle had kept him out for one game. Bumps.
    Bruises. Cuts and scrapes. He’d had his share. But nothing major. It was time
    to stop pushing his luck. He planned on getting out of the game while he still
    had his health and was playing as well, or better, than ever.
    “Nice toss, old man.”
    Old man . Gaige knew that Sean meant it as a term of
    affection—gentle ribbing between friends. But he was only thirty-eight years
    old. Young in many circles. But in the world of professional football where the
    average career lasted less than three years, Gaige bordered Methuselah status.
    Yes, he still loved the game. And he probably could have
    played for another three or four years. But it was time. Time to find a new
    passion. It was time to live in a different world. One where he wasn’t
    considered an old man .
     
    “YOUR FOUR O’CLOCK appointment is here, Dr. Reed.”
    “Give me five minutes, then send him in, Marla.”
    Violet stepped into her private bathroom, checking her
    appearance in the antique silver mirror that hung over the sink. Her light
    brown hair, with new blond highlights, fell just below her shoulders. Quite a
    bit shorter than she usually wore it, she was still deciding if she liked the
    way it looked. She turned her head from side to side, watching the ends swirl
    around her shoulders. It had been time for a change. Besides, unlike some
    recent events, it wasn’t permanent. Her hair would grow.
    Blue eyes stared back at her, looking deeper. Her skin was
    smooth. Her neck, firm and unwrinkled. Was it crazy to wish she was seeing her
    nineteen-year-old reflection? She looked good for thirty-five. Hell, she looked
    good for any age. Chastising herself, Violet picked up a tube of lipstick. The
    man in the waiting room hadn’t known her sixteen years ago. He wouldn’t notice
    the difference.
    But Gaige would, a little voice reminded her. Violet
    was beginning to hate that little voice. Lately, it wouldn’t leave her alone.
    Gaige this and Gaige that. After years of effectively putting him out of her
    mind, she couldn’t stop him from creeping into her thoughts. Five or six—or a
    hundred—times a day.
    Violet dabbed at her lips, removed a bit of the cherry red
    color. She tossed the tissue into the wastebasket. One last look. Dark green
    was a good color on her. The knit dress looked professional but not stuffy. She
    always wore heels when in her office, changing them for flats when making her
    rounds at the hospital.
    The intercom on her desk buzzed, telling her that Marla was
    sending in her four o’clock appointment. Shoulders back, Violet entered her
    office just as the outer door opened.
    “Mr. Aldridge?” Violet walked forward, her hand
    outstretched.
    “Dr. Reed. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
    Terrance Aldridge smiled, shaking her hand. He was tall.
    Even in four-inch heels,