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The corner of Matty’s mouth quirked into a quick smile and I was momentarily speechless. “You could say that. How’s the week been for you?”
“I completed all schoolwork early, so in my free time I started a sports betting company and formed an indoor fighting ring with the Vaulteneau servants,” I joked. “Miss Paulina, whom I’ve yet to meet, is savage. I understand now why she’s lasted this long.”
“What are Franky’s odds?” Matty asked.
I checked my imaginary notepad and sighed mournfully. “Twenty to one.”
“Ouch,” Matty said, his eyes glinting with mirth.
I noticed the roll of black KT Tape on the edge of the hot tub. With several ripped-up strips, it appeared he’d tried to apply the strips himself. Given the angle, he’d never be able to pull the sports therapeutic material taut enough to make it effective.
I stepped closer to the hot tub. From this viewpoint you could look straight inside the main house and into a large living room with comfortable couches, an unlit fireplace, domed archways, and crisscrossed dark wood ceiling beams that added dimensional depth.
“You can say no, but…” I stalled. “Would you like assistance with the KT Tape? I imagine it’s difficult to apply it single-handedly, especially around the shoulder.”
I don’t know why I was nervous, but my chest started pounding.
Matty shook his head more vigorously than the situation called for. “I’m good, Ciaran, but thanks.”
I picked up the roll. It was the high-strength water-resistant version popular with swimmers and surfers.
“It’s not a big deal,” I added. “I helped my mom when she tweaked her knee during a ballet workout. You won’t even need to move. All we’d need to do is dry your shoulder and you have a towel right there.” I pointed to the small table within arm’s reach of the hot tub.
Matty twisted in the hot tub and tried to snatch the roll from my hands. His aim was off, but it was enough of a surprise to make me jump back and drop the roll in the bubbling hot water with a deafening plop.
We both scrambled to save it from ruination. Matty was closer, and therefore quicker. It almost became a competition because when he pushed himself to the other side of the hot tub to face me, his hand shot up in a victory move.
“Shit,” he hissed, yanking his arm back down.
I’d laugh if the action hadn’t caused him pain.
“Celebrate all you want, Matty,” I said, using the crisp white towel to dry my arms, “but maybe don’t injure yourself in the process. I’m helping whether you like it or not, so be still, you putz.”
He groaned but didn’t tell me to go to hell, so that felt like progress. I brought the towel with me as I rounded the hot tub. Given how he slouched in his seat, the water came to Matty’s ears.
“Sit up a little bit,” I said and Matty complied, jerking upward, which caused water to splash over the edge, drenching my shoes, shorts, and the bottom half of my shirt. “Maybe not so forcefully next time.”
Matty laughed. Standing behind him, I dabbed the towel around his neck, shoulders, and the upper part of his chest and bicep. He was clenching his jaw.
I stopped and asked, “Does this hurt?”
“No,” he breathed out. “It hurts when I lift it.”
An epiphany hit me. “Can I manipulate your arm, like a sports therapist? I want to see where in the range of motion the pain flares up. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
“Making promises now, Ciaran?” Matty asked.
I smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “Only in that I’ll be gentle, not that it won’t hurt you.”
Matty snorted, which I took to mean he was okay with me moving his arm like a marionette.
With a firm, steady grip, I took his elbow and guided the movement of his shoulder up and down, then side to side.
“Don’t fight it, Matty. You’re pushing against me.”
He snickered. “That’s a euphemism if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Yes, I get it.” The back of my neck felt hot. “You’re a sex god and you have a beautiful girlfriend, Matty.” I leaned down. Near his ear, I added, “How about this, go limp and relax.”
