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“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said and sipped her coffee.
I shook my head. “I’ll be in my office.”
I walked past Adam’s door and said hello. He gave me a curt nod and went back to typing. I closed my office door and woke up my desktop to check the most recent reviews. Pride filled my chest as I read the heartfelt words from my patients. Some had given me similar praise in real life, but others, like Mr. Carmichael, came to their sessions, did the exercises, and left without so much as a thank you. Carmichael’s comment made my eyes burn.
Good man. Knows how to get the work done. I don’t like chit chat and most of my doctors talk my ear off. Dr. Cardoso is a friendly fella. He’d joke around with the other patients, but he understood I was there to get better, not cluck like a chicken.My hip don’t hurt at all now. I hope I never need PT again, but if I do, he’s the only physical therapist I’d see.
My overall ranking had improved since Avery had stopped posting as well. Instead of relief, the pause made me nervous. Our brief text exchange hadn’t settled anything. She’d dumped several more negative reviews online after it, then gone oddly quiet.
Cammie sent me a message saying Rowan had arrived. My stomach did an odd flip. I needed to get myself under control around her. At least for the next hour. We had an entire weekend ahead of us, but just thinking about the possibilities of what we could do in that time made me hard. I ran through a couple JMU vs. Tech final scores to cool down and headed to the front.
Thankfully, Rowan had swapped the crop top and leggings combo she wore on Monday for a baggy t-shirt and athletic shorts. Even without the skin show, her warm smile hit me straight in the chest. My whole body tightened with anticipation as I erased the distance between us.
“Good morning,” I said. It took an absurd effort to stop several feet from her. I hadn’t seen her since yesterday morning when I’d greeted her with my head between her legs. She’d delayed her Thursday session a day to accommodate a rare new patient request I received, and I’d been looking forward to thanking her again when we were alone.
“Morning, Dr. Cardoso,” she said.
Cammie looked between us and smirked before turning back to her computer screen.
“How’s your back feeling today?” I asked as I led her to the table for heat therapy. She was walking slower than usual.
“A little tight,” she said. “I may have overdone it yesterday. I baked for several hours.”
My stomach sank. She hadn’t progressed as much as I’d hoped by this point in our sessions, but her gait had improved. I’dnoticed her pain ebbed and flowed depending on her exertion level. I hoped the peaks would level out before our sessions ended. “Cammie mentioned you’re helping Lauren.”
“Standing is usually better than sitting for me,” she said, lying face down on the table. “But I’m definitely feeling it today.”
“Were you standing on a rubber mat?”
“Mostly the tile. There’s a mat like that by the sink.”
“An anti-fatigue mat at your workspace would help. Also, shoes with proper support.”
She nodded. “That makes sense.”
I grabbed the heat blanket and checked that Adam was still at his desk on the opposite side of the office. When I got back to the table, I ran my hands across Rowan’s lower back before putting the blanket over her. She sighed, and I grabbed the stool and scooted as close to her as I dared.
“Maybe I’ve been too rough with you,” I whispered, lowering my voice.
She opened her eyes and smiled at me. “No rougher than I’ve been on you.”
“You can’t hurt me.”
Something flickered across her eyes before she pushed it down and smiled. “I’m fine, really. Your suggestion about the shoes and mat should help. I admit, I wore flip flops yesterday while I worked.”
I cringed and a small laugh escaped her.
“After work, I’m taking you shopping for a mat and orthotic inserts.”
“Just tell me what inserts to get. I’m not wasting a Friday night with you at Walmart.”
“Did you have something else in mind?” I knew what I wanted to do with her, but I could spare a half hour to get her things that could help her back.
“Well, you’ve made me dinner twice. I thought I could bring groceries to your place and cook for you. There’s something I want to talk about as well.”
My stomach sank. Planning a talk was never a good sign. Still, I nodded and pretended to add notes to her chart. The front door opened, and I glanced up, expecting to see Adam’s first patient. Avery stood in the doorway instead, wearing a sports bra as a top and a pair of leggings with more cutouts than fabric.
“What the hell,” I breathed.
