Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

“Because your roots are coming in,” she said gently. “Why did you dye it?”

“So I won't be recognized as easily.” Oliver lifted a hand to touch his hair, as if his fingers could see the color shift. “I'll have to tell Nikki to fix it. She's back in California, so it'll be a little while before I can get it dyed again.”

Without even thinking about it, Elsie said, “I can help you fix it if you want.”

Crap, talk about being unprofessional, she thought, as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

Oliver lifted his head from the table and looked up at her. “Really?”

Elsie shrugged. “My mom was a hair dresser. I've picked up a few techniques over the years.”

Ollie brought his face back down once more and relaxed. “You know, that would be great, actually. Nikki really shouldn't have to worry about my hair anyway.”

Elsie found a big knot in Oliver's right shoulder. She focused the pressure there, applying her weight to try to work it out. As she did, she hoped that he'd keep on talking because it seemed to help distract her from his amazing body. For some reason, though, she didn't really want him to keep talking about Nikki and she wasn't sure exactly why.

“So, what does your mom do?” Elsie asked. “You've told me a lot about your brother, but nothing about your mom.”

Ollie chuckled and Elsie could feel it vibrate through her hands. “She's supposed to be retired, but she's one of those people who refuses to take it easy. So she spends most of her time volunteering with a cancer foundation near where she lives.”

Elsie nodded. She wasn't too surprised, given the story of his brother. If anything like that had ever happened to one of her sister's kids, she would have volunteered at a cancer foundation too.

“What did your mom do while you were growing up?” she asked.

“Everything,” Ollie stated, with no hesitation. “She did everything. She was a single mom with two sons. It wasn't uncommon for her to work three jobs, just to keep my brother and me fed and our health insurance paid up.”

“Wow, she sounds like a strong woman,” Elsie said, easing her weight a little harder onto the knot in Ollie's shoulder.

“She's the strongest woman I've ever know,” Ollie replied. He paused for a moment. “I think she'd like you.”

Her hands stalled for a moment. The compliment made her heart flutter and her stomach go bubbly. “Really?”

“You listen the same way that she does,” he said. “Even though she was working all the time while we were growing up, she always made us kids feel like we were the center of her world. You do that too.”

Elsie felt her face heat. She knew she was blushing, and felt grateful that Ollie couldn't see it. He had given her a high compliment, though. One that she wasn't expecting.

“Thank you,” she finally said.

Oliver's phone rang. The ringtone was one of her favorite country songs, which made Elsie smile. He slowly raised his head and reached into his pocket to the pull out the phone. “I need to take this call. It's Coach. Can we finish this massage up later?”

“Of course,” she said, taking a step back to grab a towel from her bag. “I was almost done anyway.”

She wiped the oil from her hands with the towel, as Oliver sat up on the massage table. Despite her will power, she was unable to maintain focus on his face. Her eyes drifted downward. His abs called out to her. And his muscular pecs and the firm ridges of his shoulders.

Good lord, I can see the jagged edge of his serratus anterior as perfectly as if I was looking at a text book right now, she thought, as a warm tingling sensation filled her.

“My eyes are up here,” Ollie joked.

Once again, Elsie felt as hot blood rushed to her cheeks from embarrassment.

“I, um, well,” she stuttered. “Sorry.”

Oliver just chuckled. Elsie spun around and put the oil back in her bag. By the time she turned back, Oliver had put a shirt on and she was grateful for it. He still looked like sex on a stick, but at least she could pretend to maintain some level of professional decorum.

“I'll see you soon, okay?” he said, as he lifted his phone to answer it.

“Sounds great,” she replied, picking up her bag and clipboard. “Should I bring some hair dye for next time? Maybe some bleach to match your current shade?”

Oliver pondered for a moment. “That's probably best. I guess I'll stick with the blond for a little longer.”