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This isn’t the first time I’ve felt close to a patient.
I’ve been in the field for a few years now, and closeness happens. Though it never happened to me before, it is notunheard of to have the closeness manifest into a crush. Which is why I try not to give my feelings too much weight.
However, when Nate grabs back, it makes my head spin.
“Feel good?” My voice is strained.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
I release Nate, and he adjusts himself on the bike seat, spinning himself forward and attempting to do my work for me by lifting his leg into one of the slings for his foot.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. I’ve got to get you hooked up first.”
Nate huffs but does not argue.
The living room of the Lyons penthouse has become as close to a functioning physical therapy office over the past several months as possible. In fact, it’s even better than the clinic I work at, with all the state-of-the-art options Edwin Lyons, Nate’s father, can afford.
The black card he handed me when he hired me is not just for medical expenses like equipment and medication. Edwin insists I use it for my living expenses too. Which means all the money I’m making is going directly to my bank account.
I’m not exactly comfortable with this arrangement, regardless of how rich he is, but I can’t argue much when the one thing I need the most in the world is to be financially secure.
Life has had a lot of ups and downs, and I need to make sure I’m never so down as to be helpless. If I have financial stability, I know I can handle anything the universe throws at me. Because I can deal with almost anything.
Except maybe people… Love… That requires a whole other level of preparation and availability I’m not sure I have anymore.
But I do have preparation and availability to help Nate.
And this bike has been one of the best things for keeping Nate’s muscles conditioned as it keeps his frustrations at bay when he is feeling confined and helpless.
I push aside Nate’s robe to reveal his legs, covered to his knee by a pair of athletic shorts, and then place the sticky pads connected to the wiring of the machine on his thighs. “That feel okay?”
“Fine for now. Already thinking about how these things are going to wax off my leg hair once we’re finished,” Nate’s tone is dry.
I laugh. “Maybe we ought to start shaving your legs, hm?”
“Would that make me pretty?” Nate clasps his hands together and bats his eyelashes.
“Might take a bit more work than that.” Lord help me if he got any prettier.
“Hey!”
I grin over my shoulder at Nate.
We’ve always had a rapport like this.
It used to feel silly, just friends ribbing each other. Now, it feels like more. Makes my heart flutter and my stomach flip.
The jokes have turned into teasing.
And I like it more than I should admit.
I get Nate’s legs into the stirrups, Velcro him in, and start the machine.
He grabs the handlebars and begins to pump his legs with the help of the electrical stimulation.
“Wow, look at you…” I marvel at the ease with which his legs are moving.
“It feels a lot better.”
