Van dipped his head. “Shame. I honestly think with your particular injury we’d have seen some real improvement in your knee.”
“The miracle cure?” This time I did scoff, even as a flicker of hope flared to life. I hated myself for wanting to believe in him. I hated Van for pretending full recovery was obtainable. “I don’t care about my stupid injury. My mother died. I lived. I don’t have to be perfect.”
Van’s face fell. “You know that’s not what I mean. It’s about you having the best life you—”
“So why try to fix me.” I clenched my hands at my sides. “I’m fine as I am. Having the best life.”
“That’s a ridiculous argument and you know it, Jess. I accepted you the other night. It wasn’t your injury making me lay down with you, kissing you, licking at your pussy.” He took a step forward with each remembered action until he stood in front of me. “When I made you come with my fingers. When I came inside you—”
“Stop it.” I jerked back, anger warring with lust, the need to touch tempered with the urge to slap him. “You don’t need to remind me. It was a mistake. Remember?”
My emotions rolled hot and cold, fire and chilling ice. I had to get out of here. I straightened my spine and opened the door.
“Jess?”
“Stay out of my business.” I turned back for my final parting shot. “And stay the fuck out of my medical file.”
Chapter Nine
Van
Spoiled. Brat.
Narcissistic. She-devil.
Sexy. Little. Minx.
Fuck. The chant went around and around in my head as I waited for my anger—and my hard-on—to abate.
She’d gotten the better of me. A second longer and I would have claimed that smart-ass mouth of hers, pushed her up against the door and had her. Fuck. She’d been thinking it too. In between the times when she’d wanted to punch my lights out.
I slumped against the nearest table. I’d known it was going to be hard to get Jess on board, but I’d thought at least she might be reasonable. My program was groundbreaking. It helped people exactly like Jess to get the most out of things.
Being with her had been a mistake. The best kind of mistake. But it had also ruined any chance of getting Jess on my program.
I loosened a sigh. Somehow I doubted I would have swayed her, no matter what had happened. Jess was stubborn. And she refused to acknowledge what she might be giving up.
But then, I knew firsthand people didn’t always do what was best for them. Wasn’t that why I’d been forced to drop out of medical school? Wasn’t that why I’d specialized in injury rehabilitation instead of diseases?
I rubbed at my chest as numbness crept in to claim me. My brother’s misdiagnosis five years ago had been a horrible mistake. But the tragedy hadn’t been Ryan’s untimely death, it had been how my parents had dealt with it. They’d taken Ryan’s death as if it were the end of their own lives. My father had sunk into a depression he’d never climbed out of. He’d turned his back on his marriage, his remaining son…his life.
The double loss had been the final straw for my mother. Once confident and determined, she’d gotten so she couldn’t do anything without checking with me first. I’d stayed on at home to look after her, unable to go back to med school.
The local physiotherapy school had been a good alternative, my affinity for people and my background in medical knowledge opening a lot of doors. I had specialized in accident injuries, meaning I stayed away from the medical wards and memories of Ryan. I wanted to work with people who had a chance to get better, and who generally worked hard to achieve it. Instead of saving the world, I saved those who wanted to save themselves.
The hospital had offered me the chance to roll out my program across the eastern states of America. My mother hadn’t wanted me to go, but I’d had to, for both of our sakes. I’d started my tour as far away as I could, working my way back to my small hometown. This was my last stop; home and my mother only a short drive away.
I felt guilty as hell for leaving her behind, but I’d craved the spark of energy people like Jess exuded. Yes. Jess was headstrong and had self-destructive tendencies, but I couldn’t fault her outlook on life. The way she seized it. Gave it a good shake. Yelled, “Here I am, you fuckers. Do what you can.”
I liked that.
I wouldn’t give up on Jess. And not just because I was attracted to her, but because her tenacity was exactly what I needed for the next step in my program. All I had to do was figure out a way to point her wheels in the right direction.
I tapped my fingers along the edge of the desk. One way or another, and for a million different reasons, I needed Jess to change her mind. I wanted to see her again…
“Ah, there you are.” The pretty nurse who’d been giving me the eye since I’d arrived in Wellsford poked her head in the door. “They’re waiting for you.”
“On my way.” My gaze barely flicked up.
Zero interest.
My thoughts were centered on the one spoiled brat who didn’t understand what was good for her.
I pushed off the desk and followed the nurse—whose name I hadn’t bothered remembering—into the treatment room. My gaze swept the sea of expectant faces, picking out someone I did know. Jayne Allen, the shy blonde who was friends with Jess.
I smiled at her. Perhaps it was time to learn a little more about Jess. The kinds of things you didn’t find in a medical file.
Since that was now off limits.
Chapter Ten
Jess
My first reaction to the nasty surprise of unveiling Van’s secret identity was to stomp around my room, slamming doors and generally making Cole’s life unpleasant.
My second reaction was to do something. Anything. Any fucking thing to take my mind off the fact Van had made a fool out of me. I wanted to claw back whatever meager sliver of control I could claim for myself, any way that I could. Anger was a tight knot that kept winding inside me, tighter and tighter.
It took me until the end of the week to find exactly the right thing to ease the hard ache in my chest. And if I never heard of Van bloody Sheffield again, it would be too soon.
So, of course, he was the sole topic of conversation the next time I met Jayne and Tash for lunch. Jayne had entered his treatment program and raved on about Van like he was some kind of demigod.
“He’s so funny…he really understands my injury…he’s good with his hands…”
“So he’s helping?” Tash asked. Her injury had all but healed, so she hadn’t been eligible for Van’s workshop.
“Definitely.” Jayne couldn’t be more emphatic. “Yesterday he wore this white shirt and every time he moved you could see his muscles bulging.” Her mouth went slack as though lust had taken up the reins and overrode her intellect.
“He’s not so hot.” I handed her a tissue to wipe up the drool.
Jayne came out of her stupor long enough to shoot me a bug-eyed look. “Do you need glasses?”
“Seriously Jess?” Tash rolled her eyes. “I mean, I know you have a hang-up about physios as a rule, but damn, that man is sexy.
Jayne tripped over herself to agree. A whole five minutes of conversation about the stimulating attributes of Van Sheffield. As if I hadn’t already categorized every single one of them.
In the end, I had to physically seal my mouth with my hand to keep from spilling the beans about my lust life with Van. That would have shut them up. But no way was I ruining my street cred by telling them I’d gone after somebody medical.
I had seen Van once since our run in at the clinic. He’d tried to entice me to talk in private with him. That was the day he’d been wearing thigh-hugging jeans with a muscle-molding black shirt. My mouth had gone dry. My panties wet. I hadn’t wanted to be alone with him. It was everything I could do to shove my nose in the air and keep walking like he was invisible.
“So, talking of things that are good for us”—I cast a sardonic glance in Jayne’s direction—“I ha
ve a much more exciting proposition for you.” I paused to get their attention before waving the flyer I’d found on one of the campus notice boards in front of their faces. The Mud, Sweat, and Tears challenge. “What do you think about entering this?”
“No.” Jayne didn’t even look at the advertisement.
Tash snatched it out of my hand, her jaw dropping lower with each passing second. “Are you frickin’ crazy?” She shook her head. “This shows giant, dirty college athletes slogging through a muddy assault course. How the hell are we supposed to compete with that?”
“I know.” I grinned. “Doesn’t it look like fun?”
“An assault course. Fun?” Jayne stared at me like I was some kind of freak.
“Look.” I smoothed the rumpled flyer out on the table. Big burly dudes covered in mud were crawling under a cargo net. “They’re smiling. They’re having a blast.”
“They look like they’re gritting their teeth.” Tash decided after studying the picture closely.
“Don’t be stupid.” I waved off their concerns. “They wouldn’t let us do it if it were dangerous.”
“I don’t know Jess—”
“What can it hurt to put in a team?” I pressed harder.
“In other words, you’ve already put our names down.” Tash didn’t return my smile.
“Well. Yes. But we don’t have to do it if it’s too much.”
Annoyance sparked on Jayne’s face. “Maybe I should check with Van?” She sounded less than convinced.
This time, I did roll my eyes. “What for? You don’t need to ask his permission.”
“No. But it might upset my new treatment regimen.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Jayne. We’re just going to muck around on an assault course. If we fall, there’s mud. Soft, squishy mud.”
“Yes, but I like talking to him…”
Jayne launched into another ten-minute monologue on the hotness of Van Sheffield and the flyer became a crumpled mess in my hand.
Let them pant over him. I didn’t care.
Okay. I did care. It wasn’t just anger stabbing me in the chest every time Jayne went on about Van. The thought of him working with Jayne, touching her with those strong, sure hands…
I consoled myself by going home to bury myself in my favorite place—Madison’s closet.
It was official. The pretty debutante had the best clothes ever.
It hadn’t taken me long to take to my new digs…and the contents of Madison’s wardrobe. The woman had a figure to die for, though she was much taller than me. Legs up to her armpits. Still, Madison’s shorter skirts and tops fitted me pretty well and looked a whole lot better than my usual clothes.
A pity about the shoes. I pulled my head back out of the closet and shut the door on rows and rows of delicious foot-candy. I could never wear them. My orthotic moldings wouldn’t fit, for one. And my knee just wasn’t that forgiving. I frowned into the floor to ceiling mirror. It was a shame, because with extravagant shoes like Madison’s, I could have gotten away with anything. Even scars.
But then, no one was looking at me these days anyway. Like her shelves full of perfectly appointed footwear, Madison was drop-dead gorgeous. Everyone noticed her and for once, I could walk down the street and know people weren’t studying my limp. They weren’t even aware of my existence. All they saw was Madison.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” She interrupted my footwear fetish thoughts, popping her head in the doorway. She showed no surprise that I was drooling in front of her closet. Again.
“Coffee?” I raised a brow, prompting a smile from Madison.
“I hear they’re trying out a new blend of Arabica and Robusta from Vietnam. It could be interesting.”
“Oh my God.” I stared at my new friend. “How do you know all of this?”
Madison grinned. “I’m on their email list. In my line of work, it pays to know your coffee.”
“What, being a rich socialite?” I snorted. I still didn’t know how I had ended up as roomies with Madison. Or how my brother had lucked into landing in her bed.
Not that that was something I wanted to think about. I wrinkled my nose. Especially since my own bed was depressingly empty. I’d tasted the forbidden fruits of a certain physiotherapist and would have been up for more…if he wasn’t a physiotherapist.
Which brought me to the real reason I loved tagging along with Madison for coffee. My sole motivation for walking six blocks to a coffee shop on the other side of suburbia? Madison’s route took me right past Van’s apartment.
It was my dirty little secret.
My guilty thrill.
As we drew near his street, my heart would start pounding, adrenaline pushing up my heart rate. Fight or flight. I had no idea what I’d do if I actually laid eyes on him. And that was part of the torture.
I wanted to see him. I didn’t want to see him.
And would he even notice me while I was beside Madison?
We walked together, with me only half listening to Madison prattle on about how Vietnam had risen to become the second largest coffee-producing nation in the world. It provided a nice distraction as we turned the corner to Van’s block. Van’s street.
My pulse picked up tempo, the beginnings of a flush creeping up into my cheeks.
Van’s car was there.
My heart started to pound its way out of my chest.
“Jess, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
My footsteps slowed. My skin felt like it was on fire, yet I was cold, my fingers icy. I barely registered Madison coming to a stop beside me because all my attention was on Van’s car.
And the man standing next to it.
Van hadn’t spared one glance for Madison. I knew this because he hadn’t stopped looking at me since the moment we’d locked eyes. A collision of heat and longing. Tinged with regret. I felt it too.
All I had to do was keep walking.
“Jess?” Madison spoke my name sharply.
“I’m fine,” I croaked out.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I wasn’t ready. It had been easy to deal with Van at the clinic. I’d had time to brace myself preparing for the jolt of awareness when I saw him. Harden my resolve. Pack away my libido.
I don’t know how I kept putting one foot in front of the other.
Just keep walking.
I came so close to making it.
“Jess. Stop,” Van called after me. His voice was raw, like my name had been ripped from his throat against his will.
“Keep going,” I urged Madison, a hysterical giggle building in my throat. I heard the pound of footsteps behind me.
“He wants to talk to you.” Too late. Madison tugged me to a stop and Van stepped in front of us.
“Jess. Just the person.” His gaze tracked to Madison then back to me, a question in his eyes. “Hi. I’m Van.” He raised his hand.
“Madison St. James. You know Jess?”
“I’m a friend.” Van paused, giving me the opportunity to explain. “We met a few weeks back,” he continued when I didn’t say anything.
“Oh. Me too.” Madison relaxed into a smile.
My stomach tightened. Madison was totally gorgeous at the best of times, but when she smiled, even I had to take a step back. My gaze tracked to Van. He hadn’t even blinked.
“Jess is a hard person to get hold of.” Van grew a little bolder, his stare still on me. “I’ve been wanting to see her again.”
“Oh?” Madison’s eyes widened as she caught his drift. “Ohhh.”
I glared at my supposed friend. “If you have nothing to say except oh, can we go for coffee?”
“Uh, no.” Madison became flustered. She dug in her bag and peered at the screen of her cell. “I just realized. I have a fitting.” Color rose in her cheeks. “You know, for the auction.” Her gaze lingered on Van for a moment.
“I thought that was tomorrow?” I directed a big, fat liar glare at Madison. “And you promised me coffee.”
“Perfect.
I owe Jess big time. I’ll take her for coffee,” Van put in.
He and Madison carried on as if I were invisible. I gritted my teeth, grinding them together when he caught my expression and threw me a wink. Pure evil.
“Great.” Madison was nodding like an idiot. “See you Jess. Have fun.” She disappeared so fast I was surprised there weren’t flames dancing out her butt.
“What are you doing?” I turned on Van.
“I’m taking you for coffee.”
“I don’t even like coffee,” I declared, crossing my arms in an effort to hold in my frustration.
“Then I’ll take you somewhere else.” Van didn’t miss a beat. “Where would you like to go?”
“Nowhere with you,” I muttered. “I don’t even like you.”
One brow rose, but Van said nothing. I dropped my gaze.
“This isn’t about whether you like me or not,” he said finally. “I’ve been way out of line in my dealings with you. And I want to say sorry.”
Damn it. I bit my lip to stop my automatic acceptance of his apology. He looked so cute when he was full of contrition.
“I know what you’re doing,” I huffed. “It won’t work. My brother is the king of subversive.”
“No tricking.” Van put up his hands. “No sales pitch. I just want to make it up to you. Anything you like. Coffee. Cake. Dinner for two.”
I leaned back, studying his face.
“Okay,” I said, narrowing my gaze. “I’d like to go for a hike in the Appalachian Mountains. I’ve always wanted to follow one of the tributaries of the Potomac up to the source.”
His face fell.
Gotcha! I wanted to laugh out loud. I’d known he’d back off as soon as I mentioned doing something physically challenging.
“I can’t today. But only because I don’t have time,” Van added when my eyes started rolling back in my head. “I have to be at the clinic by three..
I had heard enough. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say.” I spun on my heel.
“Give me a chance. It’s not what you think.” He stepped around in front of me again.
Damn, he was quick. I skidded to a stop to avoid running into him. My knee twinged in protest and I glared at him harder.
Her Release (One Night Stand Book 3) Page 6