by Tia Souders
“Hey.” Jinny plastered a smile on her face, hiding her nerves. “Come in.”
“Are you comfortable? Getting acquainted with the place?”
He was an attractive man, and according to the team site, five years her senior. With short blond hair, a strong jaw, bronzed skin, and vibrant blue eyes, he looked more suited to ride some waves at a beach, rather than work in a physical therapy office in Pittsburgh.
He smiled at her as he leaned against the doorframe to her office, completely at ease.
“Absolutely. It’s a tad overwhelming, but I’m excited to be here,” Jinny said.
“I’m glad to have you here, too. I was beginning to think they’d never hire a full-timer and I’d be managing both positions forever. With this season’s injury list, you’re right in time.”
“I can imagine you were swamped,” Jinny said. “And that last game was brutal. Really did a number on a couple of guys.”
“Speaking of…” Gabriel craned his neck, glancing down the hall. “I think your first appointment’s here.”
Emmett.
Jinny’s stomach twisted. Suddenly, she felt ill-equipped to face him.
Gabriel waved toward the waiting room and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Come on back. Your new therapist awaits,” he hollered, clearly familiar with the team and all its members, and unfamiliar with Jinny’s loathing of this particular one.
Jinny’s hands fluttered over her desk. Despite waking up at the crack of dawn to ready herself for the day, she wasn’t prepared. Why did he have to invite Emmett back? She’d had a plan. She was to go out and greet him, to meet him on her own terms. After all, she might be new, but this was her turf now. He was the patient, entering her domain. Not to mention, she needed to check her teeth, brush her hair, reapply her lip-gloss. All very important, very professional stuff. Nothing could be off when she saw Emmett. If it was, he’d call her on it, and though she prided herself on not giving a frack about whether she looked good for a man or not, she didn’t need his snide remarks. Show your enemy a chink in your armor, and they’d crack it wide open.
When Gabriel turned back to her, he flashed her a megawatt smile.
She tried to relax. Forcing her arms to hang loosely by her side, she smiled and practiced breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth. Slow, deep, calming breaths.
She had a hunch she looked crazy.
Gabriel tapped the side of her door. “Hey, maybe we could get lunch today? Talk shop? Get to know each other since we’ll be working together now?”
Jinny nodded, barely hearing him as her gaze locked on the man who appeared behind him. At nearly six foot seven, he towered over Gabriel. The sight was almost comical. He was the Hulk, and Gabriel was a meager human. If Emmett so much as leaned into him, Gabriel would topple over like a domino.
She mustered her best smile. “Sure, Gabriel, I’d love that. Lunch sounds great.”
“Awesome. Noon, then? Oh, and please call me Gabe.”
With that, he uttered another greeting to Emmett while Jinny murmured her agreement, and left.
Jinny stood there, alone, with Emmett hovering outside her office, fighting off the urge to run after Gabe and ask him to supervise like she was a ten-year-old in need of a chaperone.
She flexed her hands by her side. You are a capable and talented woman. You can handle anything and anyone. You’ve got this.
Finally turning her gaze to Emmett, she saw that he had dropped the crutches and wore a black DonJoy brace over his knee. When he shuffled further into her office, he did so gingerly, avoiding placing his full weight on his injured leg, which was good. For now, anyway. He’d need to be walking fully in the next week or two.
His normally vibrant hazel eyes were rimmed with shadows, hinting of poor sleep and fatigue, and his sandy hair was tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed. Without thinking, her gaze flickered over his athletic shorts and black t-shirt. The soft material clung to his muscles, sending her heart into overdrive.
He looked…lost, and for a moment, she felt a pang of sympathy as he shuffled further inside her office and turned in a half-circle. Taking in the small space, he whistled. “Man, pretty bland, isn’t it?”
All sympathy vanished, replaced by a deep-seated loathing.
She gritted her teeth to prevent herself from snapping. “This is my first day. I haven’t had a chance to put any personal…”
She snapped her mouth shut and shook her head. Why was she explaining herself to him? As usual, she was allowing him to goad her.
“Let me grab your file and we’ll head to one of the exam rooms.”
“Ah, so professional.”
Jinny ignored him and moved the stack of papers on her desk, grabbing the manila file folder she had placed there earlier and snatching up her laptop.
“Already making lunch dates with your coworker?” Emmett asked as they entered the hallway.
When Jinny glanced up at him, he added. “Seems unwise, if you ask me.”
“Well, I didn’t ask you.”
Emmett chuckled and raised his hands in defense.
“Follow me,” she snarled, heading toward the first exam room on the right.
It was brightly lit, with soothing cream walls and abstract art. A state-of-the-art exam table sat in the middle of the space, and cupboards for supplies ran along one wall. Pretty typical, until you glanced to the other side of the room. A mini fridge full of beverages, a snack bar, and several leather chairs, as well as a large-screen television were arranged in an informal seating area. Nothing but the best for star athletes, she supposed. Still, the posh surroundings would take some getting used to. Replace the exam table with a bed, and it would look like a hotel room.
Jinny set the laptop and file down on the counter by the cabinets and motioned for Emmett to take a seat on the exam table. Once he was settled, she turned to him. “Let’s cut to the chase. I imagine having me as your therapist is about the worst nightmare you can imagine. Likewise for me. You think I’m a career-vaulting mooch, and I think you’re an arrogant jerk. So while we’re inside this building, how about we keep things professional, yeah?”
Emmett shrugged, lazily taking her in. His heavy gaze made her skin prickle and her fingers twitch.
“Great. Now that we have that settled, let’s get started.”
She turned back to the counter and plucked the thick frames she used for reading from her front shirt pocket and put them on, skimming down his file and the orthopedist’s notes. “It looks like everything went well with surgery. And when you came in, I didn’t notice any abnormal swelling. Also, I see you’re off crutches but still in the brace. You must have followed your R.I.C.E recommendations and elevated and iced. Did you do the recommended post-op exercises daily?”
“Sure did,” he chirped.
Ignoring his smart tone, she glanced up at him, stepping toward the table with his file. Peering over her glasses, she allowed her gaze to sweep over his knee. “How are you feeling?”
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
Jinny blinked at him, caught off-guard, then narrowed her eyes. “They’re for reading.”
A slow smile curled Emmett’s lips, and Jinny caught a glimpse of his dimples, which framed his disgustingly perfect mouth.
“So I gathered,” he said, then licked his lips. “What was the question again?”
Jinny shifted under his gaze. Why was he looking at her like that?
“I asked, HOW ARE YOU FEELING?” she said, emphasizing the words like he was hard of hearing.
“Well, I’m kind of hungry. Also, I’m a little tired today, but overall, I’m feeling pretty good. It’s a Monday, and though most people hate Monday’s, I—”
“Your knee.” She glared at him, which only made him smile wider.
“Right. The knee. You need to be more specific, slim.”
Her nostrils flared at the nickname, but she bit her tongue, waving for him to continue.
“It’s fi
ne. Great, actually. When can I get back to playing ball? I think I could shoot some hoops right now.” He mimed making a shot in the air with his hands.
Jinny put the folder down on the table and removed her glasses, tucking them back into her pocket, noting the flicker of disappointment in his eyes at their absence.
“No basketball. No shooting hoops,” she said, her tone firm.
Emmett rolled his eyes.
“I’m serious. Do you want to get better or not?” she asked, sensing his impatience.
It was only week two, post-surgery. If he was already impatient, she couldn’t imagine what he’d be like a few weeks from now.
“So, when?” Emmett asked.
“Let’s do a little work. I want to see where you’re at with flexion and extension. At the end of my evaluation today, we’ll talk time frame, treatment plan, what to expect, everything.”
“Dr. Bauer told me about all of it.”
“Yeah, well, Dr. Bauer may be the best in his field, but he’s an orthopedic surgeon, not a physical therapist. So let’s just focus on what we’re doing right now, and what I have to say at the end of it. Mmkay?” She tried to keep the attitude from her voice, but the man in front of her tested every ounce of restraint she had.
Emmett sighed.
“Let’s start with flexion and extension. Lie down on your back.” She patted the table.
“I knew you were a control freak, so I should’ve taken you to be bossy, but this is a little forward, even for you.”
Jinny shot daggers at him with her eyes and gritted her teeth while he chuckled. She hated him. So much for remaining professional.
“More crude comments like that, and I could file sexual harassment, Mr. Hall.”
If possible, he laughed even harder.
“You know you love it, Miss Kimball,” he said, mocking her.
“Contrary to what you womanizers believe, I don’t like being dehumanized and treated like an object. Shocker, I know.”
“Except between the sheets, then all bets are off. Am I right?”
Jinny stiffened. “No, you are not right.”
“Oh, come on. All you feminists act like you want to be treated with respect, like you’re our equal. Women’s rights and all that. Blah, blah, blah. But what you really want is a man to take the reins.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You are such a total—” She bit down on her tongue until it ached, cutting off her words.
Anger bubbled inside her. And she needed to quell the building storm in order to remain professional.
Breathe.
“Lie down,” she snapped, biting the inside of her cheek at his smile.
He knew what he was doing. He was trying to get under her skin, and he was winning.
She motioned to his legs. “Lay both legs flat, then bring your left knee up at an angle toward your waist. Don’t push it too far. Just to where it feels on the edge of comfort.”
She watched as he did as she asked. She eyed his bent knee and took a measurement of the angle.
“Okay, good. Now, slowly lower.”
She wrote his flexion down. He was close to ninety degrees already, which was great. He’d meet their goal within a week, so they’d be right on track.
“Now I want you to push your quads into the table while flexing your knee and foot. Your foot will lift slightly off the table.” Jinny touched his calf as he did so. “Good, yes, just like that. Hold for a few seconds.”
She paused, scanning down his leg, taking in the extension of his knee. “Fabulous.”
They worked in silence for a few more minutes. It was as close to bliss as she could get in his presence until he ruined it with his mouth.
“So, is that your type?” he asked.
Jinny glanced up from his file and frowned. “What?”
“Swanson. Is he your type?”
When she stared down at him with a blank expression, he arched a brow. “Gabe?”
“Oh.” She dismissed him with a wave of the hand and returned to writing in the file. “I don’t have a type.”
Emmett snickered, and she glanced up at him. Placing his file down, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What?”
“Everyone has a type.”
“I don’t think so.”
“They do. The question is what is yours, because I know for certain the last few losers you dated weren’t it.”
Jinny arched a brow. How did he always know the exact thing to say to irritate her? “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, these last few guys. Most of the men you’ve dated, I’m willing to bet, were just to pass the time. They were something fun to do while you prepared for your real life to start.”
Jinny averted her gaze, uncomfortable with how close to the truth he was.
“And if I’m right, then we’ve yet to see your real type emerge. Who was the last guy? What was his name? Tim? Ted?”
“Todd.” Jinny glared.
Emmett laughed, still flat on the exam table, clutching his stomach like he was a regular comedian.
“That’s right. The first time I saw you with him, I thought, ‘you gotta be kidding me with this dude.’ His long hair, pasty skin, and budding career serving beer at the campus pizza joint. What a winner.”
“Maybe I like guys who are different.”
“Being an unambitious, beer-guzzling hobo doesn’t make you different. Quite the contrary, actually.”
She let his words deflect off her jerk forcefield.
“Maybe we should focus here. Sit up,” she said, then moved toward his upper body and placed a hand on his back, helping him sit. Though she tried her best to ignore the feel of his muscled back through his shirt, she failed.
Her pulse raced, betraying her. She cleared her throat, let go of him, and subtly shook out her hand as if it burned from the touch.
“Let your legs hang freely over the table here,” she instructed.
Emmett complied, but kept on talking. “Then the guy before that. I don’t even know his name, he was so immemorable. That software guy from Caltech. What a nerd.”
Jinny huffed. “He liked Star Wars. So do millions of others.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Maybe you’re just jealous.” She sneered and leaned in closer, taking in the scent of soap and freshly laundered clothes, which made her want to bury her face in his chest and stole a bit of her snark. “Maybe that’s the real problem here.”
“What if I am?” Emmett’s laughter faded as his eyes shifted to her mouth.
“Wait—what?”
“What if I am jealous? I think, deep down, you want me to be.”
Jinny blinked. It wasn’t the response she expected. She stared at him a moment, her breath catching in her throat before she finally snapped out of the hold he had on her.
He was messing with her, but she wasn’t playing his games.
She pointed to the bottom of Emmett’s leg. “Bring your ankle outward for external rotation, just a little, like this,” she said, rotating his ankle. “About thirty degrees, then inward. I’m going to place my hands above your ankle for palpation, but you should be doing all the movement.”
She placed her hands above his ankle, noting the warmth of his bronzed skin. A fluttery feeling rose in her stomach.
“Aren’t you going to respond to what I said?” he asked.
“Aren’t you going to do this flexion exercise?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Emmett rotated his ankle outward, then inward, while Jinny watched his patella.
“So, going with your theory that everyone has a type,” she said, ignoring his question, but still taking the bait and hating herself for it. “Then am I to assume yours is air-headed, jock-chasing bimbos?”
Emmett grinned. “Naw. See, that’s where you’ve got me all wrong.”
Jinny shook her head. “I seriously doubt it,” she muttered under her breath. Then she grabbed his file and added her notes.
“Maybe I’ve been doing the same thing as you. M
aybe I’ve just been waiting to date the right kind of person, at the right time.”
Jinny bit the inside of her cheek, swallowing down her retort.
Could’ve fooled her. Last she checked, the right kind of woman wouldn’t be impressed with his massive rap sheet of conquests.
∞∞∞
“That’s all for today,” Jinny said, typing into her computer.
“Wait. What?” Emmett asked, aghast.
Jinny opened her laptop and pulled up his records, then began to type out her notes. “The first session is typically shorter because it’s mostly assessment and going over your course of treatment, goals, and expectations. I’ll see you again tomorrow. All our other sessions will be longer, especially in the coming months.”
“Speaking of the coming months. Are we going to talk about all that? When I’ll be up and running again? What I’m supposed to do in the meantime?”
Jinny placed a hand on her hip. “We just finished your assessment. If you’d give me a chance, I’d love to discuss all of that with you.”
“Sorry. I’m just a little impatient,” he said. “I’m not good at waiting for things.”
Jinny raised a brow, and, for the first time since he entered her office, she wasn’t irritated. “I noticed.” She smirked and finished typing, then turned, focusing all her attention on him. “The next week will probably feel the slowest, so you need to try and be patient and not get frustrated. Remember, this is only week two, post-op. The next seven days, our main focus is going to be on continuing to control inflammation. We’ll work on your range of motion, and the goal is by the end of the week to have you at 90 degrees flexion. You’re already close, so that’s great. You’re off to a wonderful start.”
She smiled, trying to ease the concern she saw in his eyes. “We’ll work on achieving quad control and patellar mobilization. We’ll even get you in the exercise room. We’ll probably use the 4-way hip machine, as well as some other flexion exercises, and by the end of the week, I hope to have you on the bike.”
Emmett clapped his hands together. “Awesome. Sounds great. I’m ready for it.”
“As far as what to expect longer term, for the first three months, we’ll increase your exercises and cardio, and continue working on flexion. By the end of that time, you’ll hopefully progress to a light jog, and you should have full range of motion. Things will get much more intense in months three to five, with more sports-related exercises, cardio, and agility training. We’ll really work on strengthening the muscle. Hopefully, by month six, you’ll be able to return to team practice and by month eight or nine be able to compete.”