The Back-Up Plan by Debra Webb

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
    What was wrong with him? He should be worried about Stevens, not getting a hard-on. He pushed to his feet and backed away. “I’m just...I need to...check on the team.” He needed some air. “I’ll be right back,” he explained as he backed toward the door.
    Hank collided with an equipment rack and helmets clanged to the floor. His useless efforts to grab the falling gear only served to send it in a dozen directions across the floor. Damn , he muttered as he picked up the mess he had made. Maybe he needed a doctor instead of Stevens. He needed his head examined, that’s what he needed.
    Jacobs didn’t seem to pay any attention to his clumsiness. She continued to question Stevens to make sure he was coherent.
    With the equipment rack back in order, Hank crossed his arms over his chest and went to the door to check on the rest of his players. The team captain had the others running laps. Hank propped against the open door and scanned the parking lot. Watching for Mr. Stevens to arrive would keep him out of trouble. He needed an excuse not to leer at Donna Jacobs like a horny teenager. She looked entirely too tempting in those tight jeans and that clingy blouse.
    Obviously he wasn’t thinking straight. Stevens had scared the hell out of him. Besides, doctors weren’t supposed to look like that. At least he had never been lucky enough to have a doctor like Donna Jacobs.
    To his relief, the boy’s father arrived. Dr. Jacobs explained to Mr. Stevens they had determined that it had probably been two days since Stevens had taken his medicine. She emphasized the dangers of his carelessness. Stevens promised that he would be more careful in the future. She recommended the kid see his regular physician right away for a thorough examination. Better to be sure than to regret it later, she urged.
    His sentiments exactly, Hank added silently.
    He saw Stevens and his father off, then dismissed the rest of the players. With as much anticipation as anxiety, he returned to the field house where Dr. Jacobs waited. Why hadn’t she left when everybody else did? That way Hank wouldn’t have to worry about doing or saying something stupid. In his present state of mind he might just do either one or both. But he knew why she’d stayed. She would have twenty questions about his allowing the Stevens kid on the team. Jacobs had made no attempt to hide her skepticism.
    “Thank you, Dr. Jacobs. I appreciate your coming so quickly.” He extended his hand as he approached her and produced what he hoped was a charming smile. This entire day had sucked. Hank was ready for it to be over. He could see a couple of cold ones in his immediate future.
    “I’m curious, Mr. Bradley.” She tucked her stethoscope into her little black bag. “Were you aware of Stevens’ epilepsy when you allowed him to play on your team?”
    “Of course.” Hank drew back his unshaken hand. “Complete physicals are required for all players.” Did she consider him negligent as well as incapable? Something about the expression on her face told him that the answer to that question still hung in the balance.
    “What made you decide to let Stevens play?”
    Long brown hair fell across her shoulders as she cocked her head to study him. She usually wore her hair pulled back. He liked it down.
    “Mr. Bradley?”
    “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
    “I asked what made you decide to let the Stevens boy play.” Her right hand tightened on the black bag and the left came to rest impatiently on one hip.
    “Stevens is ah...Stevens is a good kid. He wanted to play so badly he could taste it. I had a conference with his parents. They wanted him to play.” Hank shrugged. What else? Oh, yeah. “I personally spoke to his doctor who gave me his okay. Stevens is the kicker, so there’s little or no possibility of his being injured on the field.” He paused and shrugged again. “I saw no reason not to let him play.”
    She pursed her