Anything but Love (The Cannon Beach Boys #2)

Chapter 1

Wes

Who would’ve thought Wesley James Ellison would be a grown-ass adult with a grown-ass job—and a good job, at that? I’ve never made so much money in my life, and I can’t think of one damn person who hasn’t rooted for me. I wouldn’t be here were it not for the support of my family and friends.

I’ve been at this job for a month, and my mind is still fucking blown. Nuclear blown. Like I’m having my cake, and I get to eat it, too.

Life wasn’t easy growing up in Cannon Beach with a disabled mother and a family that barely made ends meet. Yet, it was filled with love and support. It didn’t hurt that I also had my best friend Dennis, who always had my back and pushed me to be my best. Not everyone is that lucky.

After nearly six years of working my ass off in school and getting a doctorate, I finally have the job I’ve always wanted.

Well, almost. I wanted to become an athletic trainer for the track and field team, since I used to run on the Ducks’ cross-country team.

But being a physical therapist opens more doors for me, and I still get to help the athletes.

With a nearly empty coffee cup in my hand and my satchel draped across my chest, I raise my free hand in the air to the man heading in my direction. “Don! My man!”

“Bro! Mornin’,” he chuckles, slapping my palm as he keeps on walking. I look at him as he turns around to face me, now walking backward. “Grabbin’ some coffee at that new place down the street. You know the one, Juniper Java. Want somethin’?”

I hold up my cold cup of coffee. “Who would say no to more caffeine? Yeah, grab me something bold, just like my personality.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Jesus, your jokes suck, man.”

I wink at him. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much!”

“Sure,” he scoffs. “Anyway, want something in it?”

“A touch of cream and two Stevia, please. Thanks.”

“You got it.”

“Need some cash?”

“You can get me next time.”

“Deal.”

Don Stevens is a physical therapy tech and a former linebacker from right here at the University of Oregon. Go Ducks! He’s currently getting his doctorate in physical therapy, but he helps out until he graduates.

I chug back the last bit of my coffee, wince at the cold, stale taste, and toss the paper cup into the garbage in the hall before walking into the physical therapy facility.

We share the space with the sports medicine department, which is all part of the University Health Services.

When I reach my workstation, I remove my bag and hoodie, then clip the work badge onto the collar of my grass-green polo with the yellow University of Oregon logo. Then, I sit at the computer and pull up my schedule for the day.

With school and football just starting, I haven’t been too busy yet, but I have a girl coming in for a herniated disc in her neck, and a drummer in a college band with tennis elbow.

While typing out my therapy plan for the student with the herniated disc, my phone rings to the specific ringtone I gave my mother.

I swipe it open and answer. “Hey, Mom! You okay?”

“H-h-hi, h-h-honey. I-it’s fine. J-just want t-to tell… you th-that… I’m th-thinking of… you. M-miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Mamasita.” She giggles at the nickname, which I’ve been calling her since my early teens. She loved it, so I kept saying it. It helps that she’s five feet nothing, so she’s my little mama. “I’ll be by to visit for Halloween weekend. How’s work?”

Mom’s been working at the local grocery store as a cashier since before I was born.

It’s the only job that has the patience for her.

She’s very intelligent. I got my brains from her after all, but she fell off a ladder when she was younger, landing on her head, which left her brain damaged. She’s struggled to speak ever since.

The damage also affects her mood, so she sometimes flies off the handle unexpectedly. Much of that stems from her struggles with communication. It’s never bothered me, since it’s all I’ve ever known. She’s always just been ‘Mom’ to me.

“G-g-good…”

“Are Grandma and Granddad okay?”

“Y-yes, they’re w-well. D-d-dad is at w-work.”

Grandad has had to work past retirement to take care of everyone.

Mom still lives with her parents because of her disability.

Plus, she had me way too young. I was kind of an accident, so I grew up with my extended family.

Honestly, I love it. I’m close to all of them, but I’m especially close to my granddad.

“Well, you tell him to be a good kid and to behave himself.”

She giggles again, making me smile. It’s my life’s mission to make her laugh.

“S-stop, y-you’re such a… tease.”

“I do my best! Anything else you need, Mamasita? I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes.”

“N-no, I j-j-just wanted to… h-hear your v-voice.”

“I’ll sing you a song tonight and send it to you, then you can play it back to your heart’s content.”

“Ugh, n-no… y-you s-sing t-terribly.”

“You’re so mean! I thought parents were supposed to love everything about their kids.”

“N-not your… sing… singing.”

I chuckle at that. “I guess that’s fair. Well, I gotta go, Mom. My patient’s arriving soon.”

We say our goodbyes, and as soon as I hang up, my coffee arrives.

“Anything else, your highness?” Don says, smirking.

I take a tentative sip and sigh. “You’re the best, man.”

He bats his lashes like a queen. “Don’t you forget it!”

I chuckle as he walks off to prep for my first appointment.

When Don lets me know she’s ready, I grab the tablet and head toward one of the treatment tables, where my patient is sitting, swinging her legs back and forth.

“Good morning, Miss Pérez.”

“Morning.”

I look through her files to see she’s a sophomore and doesn’t have much of a medical history.

“Can I call you, Liz?”

“Yeah.”

She’s pretty, with sleek black hair and dark brown eyes, though I’m not interested and can’t afford to be.

“I’m Wes.” I scroll through her paperwork, though I’ve already taken a look at her scans. “It seems you’ve got a herniated disc in the C5, C6 vertebrae. The bulge in C5 is causing a pinched nerve to C6.”

She nods and tucks some hair behind her ear. “Yep, I was sparring in my Taekwondo class when one of the other students swung his leg and hit my head.”

“That’s illegal.” I take her right arm and feel around because that’s the arm that would be affected the most. “Did you roundhouse him back? I would’ve.”

She snorts a laugh and bats her eyelashes at me. “Nah.”

Oh, boy. I’ve got to put on my professional panties for this one. “Did you lose consciousness?”

“No, but I fell to my knees and was disoriented for a second.”

“No concussion?” I ask, though I didn’t see one on her chart.

“Nothing like that.”

I nod and inspect her fingers. “Any numbness?”

“Yeah, there’s pain that radiates down my right arm, and my first two fingers are like numb and tingly at the same time. It’s annoying ’cause I can’t do much, and it’s my dominant hand. I’ve got papers due, and I can barely type.”

These are typical symptoms, and her treatment should be pretty straightforward.

“We’ll get you feeling better in no time, as long as you come to your appointments regularly and do your home exercises.

So, for the next six weeks, I’d like to see you here three times a week.

Don will schedule your appointments around your classes. ”

Her shoulders sag, but she nods in agreement. “Yeah, I guess I can do that. Life’s busy, ya know? I gotta job, classes, studies…”

“I understand, but the key is to keep you out of invasive surgery. That’s the last thing you’d want.”

“Yeah, no… I get it.”

“Let’s start with some neck traction. That should take some pressure off that nerve. You’re going to love it.”

“God, that sounds great.”

I work with Liz for the next hour, teaching her some at-home exercises and how to sleep to keep that pressure off.

The rest of the day goes by fast before I wrap it up and head home.

It’s Friday, and I’m eager as hell for some fun tonight, and not just the dancing and drinking kind. Sexy fun.

I look into the mirror, finger my hair back, and roll up the sleeves of my button-up to expose just enough muscle and veins on my forearms to entice. I wear royal blue because it shows off the color of my eyes.

With a few spritzes of cologne, I leave my bedroom and grab my leather jacket from the front closet.

As I shrug it on, I look into the living room of my condo, filled with a sudden pride.

I recently purchased the place, and it’s the first home I’ve ever owned.

I still can’t believe it’s mine, and I never get tired of looking at it.

It’s a little sparse and could use some decorative touches, but I’ll get there.

Baby steps. Hey, at least my mattress isn’t on the floor, and I have a couch—silver linings and all that.

The bar is within walking distance, so I don’t have to worry about drinking and driving.

I step outside with my hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket, since the night is chilly. I head four blocks to Jeremy’s Junction, a hopping bar that serves over 150 different types of beer. My mouth waters at the thought of a tasty lager.

Eugene has become a second home to me. Dennis and I were undergrad students here. I left for a couple of years to live near Portland while I received my doctorate. I do miss Cannon Beach and the ocean, though, and being close to the water.

As soon as I open the door to Jeremy’s, I’m blasted with heat, the scent of beer, and bright purple and pink neon lights.

While they cater to beer lovers, they also have a dance floor.

It’s a good way to get the ladies in here.

My ears vibrate to the catchy beat of I Just Might by Bruno Mars, which makes me want to wiggle my hips.

When I see my friends Justin and Rose standing at a bar table next to the dance floor, I do just that, swaying my ass and spinning until I reach them.

After saying hi to Justin, I wrap my arm around Rose and dip her as I sing along to the song. She rolls her dark brown eyes and slaps me away, giggling.

“Off, you beast!”