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“Lady. We’ve been polite.” A bald, thickset nurse in scrubs held open his hands in protest, his arms too wide and visible for her to dodge safely as he advanced at her. “We’ve warned you people several times already.”
“Hmph.” She frowned and flicked the red bob.
The security guard inched inside behind the sound guy. “That was assault.”
The nurse scowled and herded the invading crew back toward the parking lot like an aging defensive lineman. “We got you on tape, lady. And I saw you strike a patient. I’ll testify.”
Cilla gasped. “Ridiculous. That’s a lie.”
“We’ll press charges. I’m happy to call the police again. If you persist, I can guarantee the rest of your afternoon is a thorough cavity search.”
Tyler turned away from the melee to face the desk.
“Limelight, huh?” The receptionist shot Tyler a sympathetic smile and muttered, “Exam room’s open. Number five.”
“Thanks,” Tyler mumbled with a grateful nod. He fled down the hall into an exam room and slammed the door shut.
Tyler leaned against the closed door, allowing the coolness of the metal handle to ground him. His heart raced like he’d run wind sprints at the combine. Damn vultures would kill him if they could, just to climb whatever crappy ladder. All they cared about was the story, not the person they used to prop it up.
His big hands shook as he stripped to his shorts.
Tyler hopped onto the table, his fingers drumming an erratic rhythm on the thin paper covering. Little by little, his eyes adjusted to the bright fluorescent lights of Dr. Reynolds’s office.
His old life left a lot to be desired.
Tyler took a few deep breaths to calm himself as he waited for the doc. Despite the reporter ambush, his relief and anticipation were genuine.
Though he’d dreaded this checkup, Tyler felt lighter and more energetic than he had in years. For the past month, each visit had marked real progress in his recovery, which had stagnated those first two months after the heart attack.
Even the idea of driving this far alone would’ve paralyzed him. Today, he felt stronger than he had in a long time, maybe since his first year with the Swells. His heart beat steady behind his ribs.
All thanks to Josh.
A knock came at the door before Dr. Reynolds entered.
“Mr. Fantana?” Dr. Reynolds closed the door, her brow furrowed in concern. “You look flushed. Everything okay?”
“Ran into a tacky reporter outside,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his sore neck. “Didn’t expect that kind of ambush so soon. I should’ve known.”
She stepped closer. “My apologies. My staff should have been better prepared.”
“Press. Some kid trying to make a name for herself. It’s not her fault, really. They can be… impolite.” He grinned. “I’m fine.”
“You are.” And then Dr. Reynolds seemed to really look at Tyler. “Aren’t you. Hale and hearty.” She glanced at the door. “I am sorry for the excitement out front.”
“No need. It bothered your people more than it did me. Although the shock did get my heart thumping. I’m not used to that anymore. Out of practice.”
“No.” She raised her cold stethoscope to his chest and back to listen. As she began the examination, Tyler couldn’t help but notice how different he felt compared to his last visit. “But your breathing is strong, and your heart sounds great, if slightly elevated, for obvious reasons.”
“I bet.”
“Your vitals are looking good, Tyler,” Dr. Reynolds observed, checking off notes on her clipboard. “And if I’m not mistaken, you seem… noticeably happier. A great deal happier.”
“Guess I’ve been making some changes,” he admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was true. Ever since Josh entered his life, something inside him had shifted.
“Changes?” She raised an eyebrow. “Care to share?”
“Been working out,” he said, avoiding the question’s emotional implications. “Running every morning. Easy weights.”
