Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
M y eyes spring open, greeting a day drenched in sunshine, if not heat. At least the blue skies amp up my mood. With tentative movements, I push the sheet down my body and move my legs. The pain is still there, but less pronounced.
Once my morning rituals are complete, I slide a pair of shorts up my legs and then cover them with navy blue sweats. I’ll fit right in as I’ve noticed guys at the clinic working out in shorts. I toss on an Ozzy Martinez T-shirt and sweatshirt.
The walk to the clinic takes me only three-quarters of the time today. I bet I’ll get it down to under half before I leave. Standing outside the back entrance, I call Jenna.
“Hi, Bennett. Five minutes?”
The sound of her voice causes a thrill to zip through my body. I quash that shit. “Nah. I forgot to text you, and I’m downstairs now.”
“Okay. I’ll be down right away.” She disconnects our call.
Why am I even thinking about Darren’s girl like this? If he were here, he’d whack me upside the head and tell me to get my own chick, before kissing the fuck out of her. The visual is strong when Jenna opens the door for me. I raise my hand. “Thanks.”
When we’re inside the elevator, she pulls a hair tie off her wrist and gathers her lush blonde hair together into a ponytail. Damn. I much prefer her hair down.
“Why do you always wear it in a ponytail?” The question’s out of my mouth before I realize I’ve said it aloud.
“Because it gets in the way when I’m working.” She does a ninja maneuver and voilà , she sports a ponytail.
Once inside, I take off my sweatshirt and shoes. Jenna sucks in her breath when my hands go to my waistband, causing me to glance up. “I figured shorts might make this easier.”
“Oh, right.” She plays with her ponytail. “Very smart.”
I force myself not to smirk as I slide my sweats down my hips. “What should I do first?”
She nods. “Go ahead and do the exercises from yesterday, only add another ten seconds to each hold and do another round. When you get on the mat, I want to add something to that one.”
I nod and begin the exercises. They’re not as hard as the first day, even when I add in the additional time and reps. My thigh’s still complaining, perhaps not as loudly. I walk over to the mat.
“You did very well with those. How’s the pull feeling?”
“Around a four.”
She folds the towel and places it on the floor. “Great. You’re moving along nicely.” Jenna positions me on the mat and I put my foot onto the towel. “Now this time, after you slide out to the side, I want you to end with a squat.” She demonstrates.
Piece. Of. Cake. “I’ve done a million squats at the gym,” I boast.
“Then you should have no issue adding them to this exercise.”
I got this. My foot slides out to the side, I do a textbook squat, stand up. “Holy Hell!” My hand grabs around my thigh where the muscle throbs.
“How bad?”
Through gritted teeth, I reply, “Ten. ”
She rubs my back, which—shockingly—diverts my attention. Once the throbbing subsides, my breathing returns to normal.
“Better?”
I query my body. “I think so.”
“Great. Do it again.”
My eyes pop wide open. “Are you serious right now?”
She nods. “You have to work through this lateral pain. I know it hurts?—”
“Like a mother effer,” I supply, rubbing my thigh.
As if I hadn’t interrupted her, Jenna continues, “The only way you’re going to be able to get on the stage with a minimal amount of pain is to work through it now. Take it much more slowly this time. Don’t try to win a squat contest, but I need you to push yourself a little.”
Damn. The woman makes sense. Frowning, I rub my thigh. “No pain, no gain.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say it like that,” she corrects. “More like ‘no pain, no success.’”
I suck in my breath and focus on the task at hand. I can do this. I already know how bad it can be and I’m not revisiting. My leg slides out to the side. When I’m in position, I take my time in lowering toward the floor, moving my arms into a prayer posture at my chest. I raise to my full height with my arms sailing behind me, then use my leg to bring the towel to my other foot.
“How’d that feel?”
Through clenched teeth, I reply, “It hurt.” I exhale. “But not as badly.”
“Great. Think you can do it again?”
I concentrate and replicate the movements. “Pain’s about a seven,” I say without her asking.
“Much lower than the first time. I promise it’ll get less painful the more times you do it.”
“We’ll see,” I reply, heavy skepticism intended. My disbelief is disproven by the fifth time I do the squat. “I’m at a five pain level,” I admit when I stand.
She blesses me with a gorgeous smile, causing my heart to do a somersault. Unaware of her effect on me, Jenna says, “Think you can finish up a set of ten?”
“I’ll try.” I take the slide and squats carefully, nothing like the first time I attempted to do it, and feel like a million bucks when I complete them all.
Jenna claps. “Fantastic, Bennett. Want to take a short break before doing this all over again?”
My ears must be clogged. “Again?”
She walks over to the fridge and retrieves a bottle of water. “Two sets.”
“Fuck me.” I accept the bottle of water and drink half of it down in one gulp. “Who knew doing a squat could be this difficult?”
She remains quiet, although the slight smirk on her face tells me all I need to know. I raise my eyebrow. “Enjoying my pain?”
“Not at all.” She sips her own water. “I’m thrilled at how much energy you’re putting into PT. I understand how difficult this can be, but know when you’re up on stage, you’ll thank yourself for doing it now.”
I finish the water and toss it into the garbage can. “I’m ready for round two.” Heart pounding, I step onto the mat and place my foot onto the towel. Exhaling, I begin the exercise again, and before I know it, I’ve reached ten repetitions. My pull is growling and grumbling, but I still made all the reps without stopping.
“I did it!” Arms high in the air, I pick up Jenna in my exuberance and spin around. For her part, my physical therapist throws her head back and laughs.
A knock sounds. “Excuse me, Miss Westfield?”
The male voice penetrates my mind and I let her slip down to the floor. Jenna adjusts her scrubs. “Austin.” Her hands fly to the back of her head and she yanks on her ponytail, which loosened when I picked her up. “I’ve told you several times to call me Jenna. ”
I focus on the new guy. He’s almost as tall as me, with short, light brown hair and brown eyes. A few years younger than me. He smiles at Jenna and a dimple appears. Dude.
“Jenna,” he repeats as instructed, although his gaze bounces between the two of us. “Did I interrupt?”
“Of course not,” she responds. “Bennett here just completed a difficult exercise and I’m going to ice his leg now. Do you have something you want to discuss with me?”
He glances at me and flexes. Seriously? “I do.”
Not responding to his dick move, Jenna tilts her head. “Go into my office and I’ll be there once I get Bennett set up.”
“Sure thing.” He brushes way too close to her than he needs to.
Jenna walks over to the freezer and pulls out an ice pack. “Here you go.” She places it on my bare thigh, causing me to hiss. Without waiting for me to say anything, she sets the timer and vacates the exercise area into the office. At least she left the door open.
I lie on the exam table, keeping the ice in place while shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation. If she had wanted it to be private, she would’ve closed the door, right? He discusses one of his patients with her, but I can see through his lines. He wants in her panties.
Heat surges through me.
What was that ?
Austin—who my mind has nicknamed “Asshole”—chats her up about the protocol to help another patient. To me, though, he seems to have all the answers and is seeking affirmation. More like access. Asshole .
At the very least, I’m not hearing any giggles from her. Has to mean something. Perhaps these two are involved? No way. He’s too apple-pie for her. She likes her men a bit rougher around the edges, if Darren is a good example.
Darren.
Shit .
I tune the two out and focus on reviewing the exercises from today. The squats sucked, but I managed to do them. I’m going to kick this groin pull’s ass. Is that even a thing? Whatever, I’m going out on tour with UC as planned, and that’s all there is to it.
The timer goes off and I remove the ice pack. I glance toward the doorway, but they’re still talking. Getting off the table, I walk to the freezer to replace the pack, then put my sweats over my workout clothes. Instead of lingering in the exercise room, I enter her office. They’re standing close to each other. Four eyes land on me.
I plaster a smile on my face. “Timer went off so I replaced the ice pack.”
“Great, thanks.” Jenna glances between me and the Asshole, landing back on me. “Good session this morning.”
My head bobs. The two of them remain on the same side of her desk, and my chest tightens. I’ve never experienced such an annoying feeling. I rub my upper pecs.
Asshole—Austin—says, “It’s lunchtime, Jenna. Want to grab a bite?”
No way am I letting some snot-nosed guy insert himself into Jenna’s life. Not on my watch. “Sorry, dude. We’ve agreed to go out to celebrate my hard work.” I extend my arm toward Jenna.
To his discredit, the Asshole squares his shoulders. “We don’t mistake patients for friends, right, Jenna?”
Seriously ? “Jenna and I go way back.” I refrain from calling him pipsqueak. Barely.
Jenna’s head bounces between the Asshole and me, and she adjusts her ponytail. “Austin, that’s our usual rule. Bennett here is an exception given he was friends with Darren.”
Austin’s expression remains mutinous, although it’s clear he knows who Darren was to her. For my part, I ignore the pang that comes with being tied to her dead boyfriend, UC’s keyboardist. My good acquaintance. An unknown longing to be her friend rises up.
Deciding to end this odd standoff, I step forward and toss my arm around her shoulders. “Where should we go?” Dismissed, Asshole.
Jenna addresses her next comment not to me, but to him. “You’re doing a great job here, Austin. I like your protocols. We can pick this up later.”
He looks like he wants to protest, but Jenna shuts him down. I refrain from pumping my fist. When he leaves, she turns to me. “Seriously?”
I step back, hands in the air. “What?”
“I don’t remember agreeing to go out to lunch with you.”
I grin. She didn’t tell that to the Asshole. “We need to eat.”
“Well, true.” Her shoulders lower.
“How about this? You drive, I pay.” When she doesn’t look convinced, I add, “Then we come back here and do it all over again.”
“Guess I’ll save the weights until later.”
Weights? This woman has way too many tricks up her sleeve. “Should be interesting. Let’s go eat.”