Chapter 7 #2
“Are you saying I don’t know my own body?” He ground his molars.
Her entire posture relaxed on a sigh, and she softened her tone.
“Look, this is not a contest. I’m not trying to one-up you.
I’m trying to help you. I want you to get there faster too.
I want you to have another shot this year, but high ankle sprains are tricky, and everybody heals at a different pace.
” A tiny smile sprouted on her face. “Know what else? I don’t want to have to deal with you anymore, so I’m just as motivated to get you out of here faster. It benefits me too.”
“So now you’re saying I’m a pain in the ass,” he deadpanned.
“Give the man a gold star! He gets it.” The smile blossomed into a full-on smirk, and his tension ebbed.
Then her expression shifted back into professional mode.
“I know how important this is to you, Sam. But I don’t want to see you hurt yourself or set yourself back because you believe your body can take more than it’s prepared for.
We all know how tough you are, so you’ve got nothing to prove.
Especially now.” She stared at him for several long beats, as though waiting to see if the message sank in.
“Do you understand what I’m telling you? ”
He gave her a reluctant nod. He wasn’t going to be able to exercise tonight anyway, so why fight her?
A light seemed to wink on in her pretty blue eyes.
“Tell you what. Lie down, and while I check your ankle, tell me everything you put it through today. And don’t leave anything out, even if it’s as simple as you stopped at a convenience store to pick up Gatorade and stood in line for two minutes.
I can’t help you if I don’t have all the facts.
Once I know, and after I’ve evaluated your ankle, maybe we can run through a few movements. Would that satisfy your stubborn soul?”
“What choice do I have?” he grumbled.
She looked like she wanted to roll her eyes. “You have many choices. The one I wish you’d make is to trust me to have your best interests at heart and get you there as quickly as humanly possible.”
“You’re not trying to get your revenge on me?”
“My … what?” Her features screwed up in a question mark of puzzlement. Recognition finally seemed to dawn. “You really think I would use your injury to get back at you for what happened six years ago?”
“Maybe?”
She cast her eyes down, and her mouth quirked as she obviously fought a smile.
When she raised her gaze back to his, the smile broke out in its full brilliance.
“I admit I considered it when you first walked in. But that would go against everything I’ve been trained for, everything I believe in.
I love what I do, and I want to be a good therapist, Sam.
Believe it or not, I consider you my most important case, and I want to nail this not only for your sake, but for mine too. I have skin in this game too.”
He grinned for the first time that evening. “I’m the most important case you’ve got? Like, I’m at the top of the heap?”
Now she did roll her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, ace. Considering my heap is fairly short, that’s not saying much.”
He hopped onto the bed, swung his legs over the edge, and lay back, a ridiculous amount of satisfaction oozing through him.
Even more flowed through him when she removed the boot because normally he would have done that, but something about having her fingers on his skin …
The way she touched him felt good, and he didn’t feel like denying himself the pleasure—especially since she was the closest he got to anyone touching him anywhere these days.
After her examination, she reached out for his hands, taking them in hers to swing him upright.
He didn’t need the help, but it was so natural that he let her tug.
He even threw some of his body weight into the effort.
Once again forgetting how strong she was, he overshot when she pulled and nearly tumbled her backward.
Still seated on the edge of the table, he grasped her elbows to steady her.
“Sorry,” they said at the same time.
The space between them froze, as if suspended in a sci-fi time warp.
The air was still, silent, except for the humming of the lights and the electricity crackling between them.
Their hands remained clasped. Angie was so close he could pick out silver flecks in her irises.
Was that what lent them such a startling crystal-blue color?
He didn’t give a fuck when those eyes lowered to his mouth, and his gaze wandered to hers. Her lips were parted, as if inviting him to take them. Memories of kissing her before, of how sweet she’d tasted, how plush and warm her mouth had been, sent an arrow of desire to his dick.
What he was about to do was wrong on so many levels, and he knew it. Every synapse in his logical brain fired off, ordering him to stop, but the brain in his pants surged forward and slapped the noise down.
He balanced on the precipice of disaster, and he didn’t care.