by Sandi Lynn
“Thanks,” she spoke as she got up from the bed and took it from me.
“Who’s Mark?” I asked.
She looked at me, and for a second, she stood there frozen. “Is that who called?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s just a friend from back home.”
“Well, I’m going to make myself a sandwich. Do you want one?”
“No thanks. I’m not hungry.”
“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” I turned around and left her room.
Something was bothering her. I had a feeling she was still angry with me for yelling at her the way I did, but it also seemed like her mood changed even more after the first time Mark called her.
Chapter 17
Brooke
I pressed the voicemail button and brought my phone up to my ear.
“Brooke, come on, darling. Answer my calls. I wish you would have told me you were leaving town. I miss you like crazy. Please call me back so we can talk.”
After deleting his message, I threw my phone on the bed. Just hearing his voice made me sick to my stomach. I lay down on my side with my hands tucked underneath the pillow and thought about Logan. I was becoming too personally involved with him. He was right. I was hired to help him rehabilitate his leg and nothing else. After lying down for about an hour, I got up and went into the kitchen for something to eat. As I passed by the couch, Logan looked at me.
“Hey. How are you?”
“I’m good.” I gave a small smile.
Walking into the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and scanned it for something to eat.
“Are you hungry?” He hobbled over to me.
“A little.”
“It’s almost dinner time. I was thinking maybe we could order Chinese. That’s if you like Chinese food.”
“Sounds good. I haven’t had it in a while.”
“There’s a menu in the drawer over there. Tell me what you want and I’ll order it.”
I pulled the drawer open and took out the menu.
“Any suggestions?” I asked.
“The sweet and sour chicken is really good,” he replied.
“Sweet and sour chicken it is, then.”
“The game starts in five minutes. Are you going to come watch it?” he asked as he called in the food order.
“Sure, and as soon as you’re finished eating, you need to get on the treadmill.”
We sat on the couch, ate dinner, and watched the game. I could see Logan getting upset each time the other team scored a goal. The game was three to one with the Oilers taking the lead.
“What the fuck kind of play was that?!” he yelled as he grabbed each side of his head. “Did you see that?!”
“I did. Come on, angry man, it’s time to get on the treadmill.”
He sighed as he got up from the couch and hobbled over to it. As I took the crutches from him, he carefully climbed on while I set it on a low speed. The Rangers ended up losing four to one, which pissed Logan off even more.
“My leg fucking hurts,” he spoke in a stern tone as he climbed off and made his way to the couch.
As I grabbed the amber-colored bottle from the table, my phone rang. When I looked over at it, I quickly hit the decline button and Logan glared at me.
“Why the hell don’t you just block him if you don’t want him calling you?”
“I thought I did.” I sighed.
As I began to massage his leg, his eyes never left me.
“Who is he?”
“I already told you. He’s someone I know from California.”
“There you go again with the vague answers. Obviously, it upsets you when he calls. Is he a boyfriend or something?”
“He was a mistake. Leave it at that.” I tightened my grip around his leg.
“Ouch, Brooke. That hurts.”
“You haven’t even begun to experience pain yet, so get used to it,” I snapped at him.
“Listen, just because your ‘mistake’ keeps calling, you don’t have to take it out on me.”
I let go of his leg and stood up. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That’s all for tonight. I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” I grabbed my phone and the bottle off the table and went to my room.
****
Logan
I didn’t sleep at all last night. The one thing that prevented me from sleeping was a woman named Brooke Alexander. It bothered me that she was upset over this Mark guy and I wanted to know who he was. Grabbing my crutches, I went into the kitchen to find her standing over the stove cooking eggs.
“Morning,” I spoke as I entered the kitchen.
“Morning. I’m making eggs. Would you like some?” she asked as she took down a cup, poured some coffee into it, and then handed it to me.
“Sure. Thank you.”
Her mouth gave way to a very small smile before turning around and tending to the eggs.
“How did you sleep last night?” she asked.
“Terrible.”
“How come? Was your leg bothering you?”
I didn’t dare tell her that I was up all night thinking about her. “Yeah. It was bothering me, but I dealt with it.”
“Good. Not good that it was bothering you, but good that you could deal with it.”
“So am I getting on the treadmill after breakfast?” I asked as she set down a plate of eggs in front of me.
“Nope. We’re hitting the gym first. You can walk on the treadmill later.”
I watched her as she reached up into the cabinet and her shirt slightly lifted, revealing her taut, tanned skin. Her being upset last night wasn’t the only thing I was thinking about. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get the image of fucking her out of my mind.
“Something wrong?” she asked as she caught me staring at her.
“Umm. No. I was just thinking about the press conference tonight. You are going with me, right?”
“I didn’t plan on it. You’re a big boy. You can go by yourself.” She smiled.
“But I want you there.”
“You don’t need me there, Logan. It’s not like I’ll be working on your leg.”
I sighed. She was still pissed at me for what I said to her yesterday at the gym.
“You may be my physical therapist, but you’re also my friend, Brooke.”
“Am I really? Are we friends, Logan? Because from what you said yesterday, I thought being friends was off the table.”
I finished my eggs and pushed the plate away. “I’m sorry for yelling at you the way I did. It’s just I’m in control of my life and I make my own decisions. I always have and I always will. You make the decisions regarding the rehabilitation of my leg. But regardless, I consider you my friend, and as a friend, I would like you there for support.”
Narrowing her eye at me, she bit down on her bottom lip. A lip that I so badly wanted to lick.
“Fine. I’ll go as your friend for support.”
“Thanks.” I smiled as I got up from the table. “I think I’ll take you to dinner afterwards as a thank you.”
“To a restaurant?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes. To a restaurant.”
As I went to my room to change, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Christmas was in a few days and I really needed to get Brooke something. What do you get a girl you barely know? Flowers are lame for a gift. Jewelry is too personal. I could get her a collection of bubble baths since I knew she loved to take them. Nah, that was stupid. Shit. I racked my brain over it as I got dressed and suddenly, something came to mind. I silently smiled at the idea. She’d love it.
Chapter 18
Brooke
Logan completed an excruciating workout and was more than ready to head home. He was in a foul mood, so I didn’t say anything to him because I didn’t want a repeat of what happened yesterday. As soon as we reached his apartment, I made him lie down on his bed while I worked on his leg before he took a shower.
“Are you ever going to tel
l me about that Mark guy?”
“Why are you so concerned about him?” I asked as I continued massaging.
“Because I could tell how upset you were by his phone calls. You’re my friend, Brooke, and if there’s anything I can do to help, I will.”
A small smile crossed my lips. “Thanks, but there’s nothing you can do, Logan. Like I said, he was mistake. A huge mistake.”
“It seems like he’s not over you.”
“That’s his problem now, isn’t it?”
“I guess it is, but still. Did he hurt you?”
“No. In order for him to hurt me, I would’ve had to been in love with him, which I wasn’t.”
“That much of a douchebag?” Logan asked with a grin.
“Yeah,” I replied, nodding my head. “The biggest douchebag in the world. Okay, you’re all set for now. How does it feel?”
“It hurts like a bitch. Were you in pain like this?”
“Much worse pain. Go take a shower but make sure you sit down. If you need my help, let me know.”
“I get the feeling you’re just trying to see my dick.” He winked.
I cocked my head. “And I get the feeling there’s nothing to it and that’s the reason you’re so dead set against me seeing it.” I smiled as I walked out of his room.
“Think what you want, Brooke. But I can guarantee that it’s probably the best-looking dick you’ve ever seen,” he shouted.
I let out a soft laugh as I went to my bedroom and changed my clothes. After Logan finished showering, he walked out wearing his Rangers jersey. He looked so ruggedly handsome that my belly did some wild flips because he definitely took my breath away.
“Look at you. How did it feel to put it back on?” I asked.
“A little strange, but good.”
Sensing a sadness in his voice, I walked over to him and clasped his shoulders.
“You will be wearing that again.”
He didn’t say a word. He looked down and then hobbled into the kitchen. His mind was filled with doubt, and with doubt, he’d never step foot on the ice again.
****
Walking into the Four Seasons, I was in awe of the beautiful and elegantly Christmas-decorated lobby. I could tell Logan was nervous as we stepped into the conference room and his coach walked up and gave him a light hug.
“Good to see you out of that bed, Logan.”
“Thanks, Gene. It’s good to be out of it. Gene, I want you meet my physical therapist, Brooke Alexander. Brooke, this is Coach Gene.”
He held out his hand with a smile as I lightly shook it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Brooke.”
“Likewise.” I smiled.
“If you’ll excuse us for a moment, I need to speak with Logan in private,” he spoke as he led him behind the large curtain that was dividing the room.
As I stood there, the press began to scramble in as cameras were being set up and noise began to filter throughout the air. After about fifteen minutes, Gene walked over to me.
“Where’s Logan?” I asked.
“He’s talking with Bruce. He won’t be back out until the conference starts. Listen, Brooke, Logan doesn’t sound too sure that he’ll ever be back on the ice. I can tell his mind is filled with doubt and, to be honest, so is mine. The doctors said verbally and in their report that his hockey career is over. I’m really feeling the heat from management. They want me to permanently replace him at the end of the season. I’m doing everything I can to hold them off, but, with that being said, I can only do it for so long. All these people hear is what the doctors said. Now, if he were to make a miraculous recovery and let’s say get back on the ice for the last few games, then I’ll have a leg to stand on.”
I cocked my head in disbelief over what I was hearing. “You’re talking three and a half months.”
“And you’re telling him that he’ll be able to play hockey again.” His brow arched.
“In time. By the fall, it’s a probability. But three months, Gene. Come on. I’m not a damn miracle worker.”
“Listen to me, sweetheart, Logan needs you to be his damn miracle worker right now and so do I.”
He looked at his watch and placed his hand on my shoulder. “The conference is about to start. Come with me. I think you need to have a talk with him before he comes out.”
He led me behind the curtain and over to where to Bruce and Logan were talking.
“Hello, Bruce. Can you give me and Logan a second, please?”
“Sure.” He smiled.
As he walked away, I looked into Logan’s eyes, which displayed the same look as when I first met him.
“You are to go out there and tell the world that you will, without a doubt, play hockey again.”
“Brooke, it’s over.” He looked away.
I took a firm hold on his shoulders, and his eyes locked onto mine.
“Being defeated isn’t an option. Do you understand me? Fuck what everyone is saying. You wanted me here for support and it’s what I’m giving you. If you don’t believe, nobody else will either and then you will have done nothing but wasted both of our time. I don’t waste time, Logan. Time is too precious. Do it for your dad, your brothers, and for Tommy. Do you think he’d want you to give up?”
“Logan, it’s time,” Gene spoke.
“You can do this.” I placed my hand on his cheek as I stared into his unsure eyes. Eyes that made me a nervous wreck, for I didn’t know what he would say out there to the press.
Taking in a deep breath, he stepped out from behind the curtain. Pulling out my phone, I made a call.
“Hello, Brooke.”
“Woo, I need your help.”
****
Logan
I stood in front of the podium as the flashes from the cameras began to go off and the crowd of people stood in the room awaiting their chance for questions regarding the accident and my career. I gripped the sides of the wood as nerves flooded my body. Inhaling deeply, I began to speak.
“I want to thank everyone for coming here tonight. As you are all aware, two months ago, I was involved in a car accident that took the life of my best friend and teammate, Tommy Goodwin, and left me with a seriously injured leg. I am here to tell you all tonight that I will be back on the ice and playing for the Rangers again. When? I’m not sure yet, but I have started rehabilitation and I will make a full recovery.”
Shouts in the room, hands being raised, and continuous flashes filled the area. I pointed to Jess, a reporter I’d known for years.
“Are you out for the rest of the season, Logan?”
“That has yet to be determined, Jess. Tim?” I pointed.
“You said that you’ve started rehabilitation. How is that going so far?”
“Painful.” I laughed. “But so far, so good.”
I pointed to a guy in the back.
“The Rangers have lost multiple games. How does that make you feel to sit and watch your team lose since you’ve been out?”
I swallowed hard. “The Rangers are an excellent team, with or without me. They’ve just hit a bump in the road but will be back on top before you know it.”
“Logan?” A reporter named Barney raised his hand.
“Yeah, Barney?”
“I heard that your physical therapist is Brooke Alexander. She wouldn’t happen to be the same Brooke Alexander who won the gold in the U.S. Champion games thirteen years ago?”
A smile crossed my face. “Yes. That is the same Brooke Alexander and she’s right over there.” I pointed to the side of me. “I’ll answer one more question. Yes?” I pointed to the young guy in the front.
“How do you feel about your endorsements dropping you?”
“How would you feel about it?” I smiled. “It doesn’t matter because I will be back on top and they’ll be regretting that decision when the time comes. Now if that’s all, I have some rehabilitating to do.”
“Wait!” a voice in the back shouted. “Can we ask Miss Alexander some que
stions?”
I looked over at Brooke as she bit down on her bottom lip. Slowly, she began to walk towards the podium as I moved to the side so she could have access to the microphone.
“Miss Alexander, you have your work cut out for you. Many people are doubting that Lightning Logan will ever play ice hockey again. The doctors sure don’t believe it, so why should we?”
“You can believe anything you want. You can doubt anything you want. If Logan wants to play hockey again, then he will. Only he has the power to make that decision. As long as he believes it, he will be back on the ice.”
“Isn’t that giving false hope? Not only to him but to us as well? Come on, his leg is damaged goods now, beyond repair, according to the medical reports. How can you stand there and promise that he’ll play again? It seems to me like you’re setting him up for failure.”
She stood there for a moment, choosing her words carefully before she spoke. That question pissed me the fuck off, but Brooke stood there calm, not showing an ounce of anger on her angel face.
“I had an inoperable spinal cord injury that paralyzed me from the waist down. I was told that I’d never walk again and that my skating career was over before it even truly began. I defied those odds that were against me and Logan will too. Like I said, only he has the power within to get better.”
“It sounds to me that you’re going to be using some Eastern medicine practices on him, yet you’re a physical therapist who graduated being taught Western medicine.”
“And?” She grinned.
“Doesn’t that go against some type of ethics?”
“No. It doesn’t. I am privately employed by Mr. Jackson and he is fully aware of what treatments I’m using on him. I am concerned, however, why you seemed bother by this?”
“I’m not bothered. It’s just a bunch of bullshit and I feel you’re providing false hope.”
Brooke stepped aside and to the front of the podium, holding her arms out.
“Am I a bunch of bullshit? Modern medicine failed me when I was fourteen years old. Modern medicine gave up on me. Yet here I stand today, in front of all of you, when I was never supposed to get out of a wheelchair. So you can take your false hope and shove it up your ass.”