Quitting the Quarterback (The Nash Brothers #4)

CHAPTER 23 Cassie Fields

The Pain Isn’t So Bad With You Around

A dart of anxiety pings through my chest as I pull into the driveway for day two.

Is he going to be the grump I dealt with yesterday? Or did he magically change back to the Tanner I met in Vegas?

I ring the bell, and rather than being greeted by his voice through the Ring, the door opens, and his lookalike stands in front of me.

“Hi, I’m Cassie. I’m here to work with Tanner today.”

“Right, we met in the orthopedic office that day. I’m Miller. Come on in.” He’s much friendlier than his grumpy brother, though hearing the same voice from someone else is a bit unnerving. “He’s on ice in the family room, but he’s just about done.” I hear Miller’s watch beep, indicating that the time is up.

“Good morning,” I say cheerfully. “How’s our quarterback doing today?”

I grab the ice from his leg before he can protest, and I dump it out over the railing on his patio like he did yesterday .

He sighs but doesn’t answer with words, and he powers off the television today—a step in the right direction, anyway. Maybe it’s because his brother is here.

I study him for a few seconds, and he looks about as grumpy as he was yesterday.

“How’s it looking today, doc?” Miller asks.

“She’s not a doctor,” Tanner says.

“Dude, don’t be a dick.” It’s funny hearing the same voice from two different men.

“I’m not. She’s a physical therapist,” Tanner clarifies for me as if I’m not standing right here.

“I’m technically a doctor of physical therapy, but nobody calls PTs doctor .” I shrug. “My boss has an MD in sports medicine, so he’s officially a doctor.” I glance at Tanner’s knee. “And it’s looking a little better. Still some swelling, but not quite as inflamed as yesterday.” I shift my gaze to his face. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he grunts.

“That would explain the crankiness,” Miller says in a loud whisper meant for Tanner to hear.

“I’m not cranky,” Tanner protests petulantly. He’s definitely cranky.

“Let’s get started on the first knee extension, shall we?” I suggest, ignoring them both, and he stretches out his leg where he is on the couch.

“I have to get to practice, but can I have a word with you?” Miller asks me.

I wonder for the briefest second if he knows Tanner and I slept together.

“You can say whatever you have to say in front of me,” Tanner says, contempt in his tone.

“Okay, I’ll go ahead and do that. Doc, Tanner hasn’t been sleeping at all. He’s barely eating. Usually he’s quick with a retort—too quick, if you know what I mean. I hear that complaint from his female visitors all the time, actually.” Miller glances playfully at his brother as he insinuates his brother is a quick shot—which, by the way, I can confirm he is not, though it doesn’t appear his brother knows about that—and I can easily see that they have a quick banter between them. He’s trying to keep things light, and he’s waiting for his brother to hit back.

“Fuck off,” Tanner mutters instead.

Miller sighs, and I can see that he’s worried. “Is there anything you can give him for his state of mind?”

“Are the sleep issues stemming from pain or from something else?” I ask, directing my question to Tanner.

“I’m fine,” he hisses.

I drop it. For now.

“He’s not fine,” Miller says to me.

I reach into my purse and pull out a card, and I hand it to Miller. “If you need to get in touch with me for any reason at all regarding your brother, feel free to use the number on my card. It’s my personal number.”

I glance at Tanner, and I see him glaring at the two of us.

Miller holds my card between his first and second finger and presses his lips together. “Thanks. I need to head to practice, but I’ll text you in a bit to check in on him, okay?”

“I’ll be here. And Miller?” I say, and he turns toward me. “I’m happy to team up with you to get your brother back to one hundred percent.”

He nods. “Thank you, Cassie. I appreciate that.” He turns to his brother. “Want me to tell the team anything?”

Tanner just leans his head back and closes his eyes instead of replying.

Miller sighs. I can sense his frustration, and I wonder how much of it has to do with the fact that he’s feeling some of his twin’s emotions. I don’t really know how all that works .

“I’ll see you around,” he says to me, and then he heads out.

I sit two cushions away from Tanner with my tablet while he works through his first knee extension.

“Let’s go over the plan for today, okay?” I suggest, and he agrees. We run through today’s goals, and I tell him a lot of what we’re doing will be guided by me, but that I’d like him to do some of the same exercises tonight after I leave—just like yesterday. “I can write down a list for you to tackle each night after I go.”

“If I pay extra, will you stay longer?” he asks.

I chuckle. “I can’t. I have to pick up my kids. Besides, do you really want me here?” I ask bluntly.

He slides his head to the side so his eyes meet mine. “To be honest, Cass, the pain isn’t so bad with you around.”

My chest squeezes together at his words, and it feels like a tiny bit of progress.

He’s quiet as I take him through his exercises, and around eleven, he asks, “What do you want for lunch?”

My brows dip together. “Oh, I brought my lunch.”

“Yeah, I know. You did yesterday, too, and you deserve something better than a cheese sandwich and yogurt.”

My brows rise. I had no idea he paid attention. It’s all I had left when I made my lunch yesterday, and I didn’t have time to hit the store yet, so it’s all I had left again today. We’re out of peanut butter, so no PBJ, and I saved the good Uncrustables for the kids.

He sighs as he taps on his phone. “I’m ordering from Fresh Market. What do you want?”

A text comes through, and it’s the menu for the place he’s ordering from.

“I’ll take the Cobb salad with ranch,” I say quietly.

He nods, and he adds that to his order. An hour later, our food arrives. We sit at the table together as I eat my salad and he attacks his chicken over brown rice, side salad, and fruit mix as he ices his knee.

I snap a photo of him with his food, and he glances up at me with a question in his eyes.

I shrug. “Miller said you weren’t eating, so I’m just preparing to have the evidence ready when he texts me to check in on you.”

He mutters something I don’t quite catch under his breath, and I can’t help a little smile. He doesn’t love that his brother and I are going to team up, but I do. I have someone on the inside who’s on my side, and that can only bode well for this man’s full recovery.