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“Okay, I see how it’s going to be. Ignore me, then. Keep going, tough guy. Push because that’s what you’re used to doing. Rehab doesn’t work the same way, Julian. If you overdo it and push, you will end up back in surgery,” the therapist snaps.
Surgery?
I don’t like the sound of that, but I try to remain professional and mind my own business.
I glance at my watch. I’m five minutes early. Maybe I should turn around and let them hash this out.
But what if they see me leaving? That's even odder.
I slow my steps, my eyes ping-ponging around. Where can I hide? There, the leg press machine. I scurry behind it.
Julian keeps doing chest presses, grunting each time the weights are pushed up. That sound goes right to my sex. A bead of sweat falls down the side of his face. I shamelessly look all over his body, playing a game of connect the dots. Those biceps, his hard chest, the way his thick thighs are spread wide over the bench.
Harper is right… fuck me sideways.
“I feel fine,” Julian grunts, but the strain in his neck says otherwise.
I inch lower, peering through the weighted bars of the machine. Officially, it's a new low for me, but my ovaries are happy, so there’s that.
The guy next door and the CEO have alter egos. My neighbor Julian listens; he’s the only guy I’ve met that I feel listens to what I say. However, Mr. Sterling, the CEO, doesn’t give a fuck. What he wants, he gets, much to the therapist’s dismay.
“I’m paying you to push me to my limits so I can use my arm again, not to do fucking ten chest presses the entire workout. It’s a waste of time. If I can do more, then I will,” Julian snaps, his voice laced with frustration and anger.
“I get it. You don’t like seeing my face, but guess what? You will see me a lot longer than planned if you don’t listen. You’ll end up back at square one. Unlike the other two therapists who quit, I'm not quitting, Julian; you're stuck with me, so get used to it.” He jerks his chin in defiance.
“What are you doing?” a voice whispers directly in my ear. My scream screeches across the entire gym, and I can feel every eye on me.
I turn to see Kent smiling down at me.
“Kent, what are you doing?” Julian shouts.
“What are we doing?” Kent sarcastically whispers to me.
My hand flies to my racing chest. “You’re trying to kill me,” I bite back as I step out from my not-so-hidden perch.
“Hi,” I say to Julian, who lowers the weights and sits up.
Kill me now!
“I didn’t want to interrupt, so I was waiting for you to finish,” I glare back at Kent.
“Sure you were,” Kent elbows me and chuckles.
I walk closer to Julian, but Kent stays in step with me.
“I was looking for you, Pumpkin,” Kent says with cheer.
“Don’t call her that,” Julian snaps. Even from this distance, I can feel his possession for me.
“Oh,” Kent glances at me and winks. “Touchy, isn't he?” He leans closer and whispers in my ear, “Have you two been touchy?”
I don’t have to worry about myself slipping up; Kent will give our secret away easily.
I eye Julian with worry, and from the ‘I’ll fucking kill him’ look, he flashes Kent; I know Julian understands my fear.
“Pumpkin, I wanted to ask you for Harper’s number,” Kent says.
I narrow my eyes. “Harper doesn’t give her number out.”
