“I’m fine.” I make my way over to a chair closest to the open gym space. It’s also conveniently the farthest away from the front desk.
I take off the sunglasses that felt necessary earlier but feel stupid now, thanks to my brother’s comment. The pain pill I took earlier had to do double duty this morning, helping with the headache that comes when you’re nearing forty and have a hangover, as well as helping with my knee.
Musical laughter hits my ears.
Lily.
I look up to see her dancing with a patient. Yeah, actually dancing. Like some fancy ballroom shit or something. She’s smiling and so is the older guy shuffling his feet with her. I almost want to put my sunglasses on again just to dull the brightness that surrounds her. It’s too much for me to handle right now.
Yet, I’m so in tune with my body, thanks to years of conditioning, that I can’t help but notice my heart rate picks up a little.
Must be from the dread of not knowing what kind of special torture she has in line for me today. I swear, if she expects me to dance, she’ll be disappointed.
I watch the two of them out of the corner of my eye. I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to keep my eyes off Lily. Colourful earrings swing and sway with her movement, and I catch a subtle flash of purple in her hair occasionally.
How did I not notice she has purple hair? My fingers twitch in my lap as a fleeting thought of how soft her hair looks passes through my head. What the fuck is that about?
Lily threads her arm through the crook of the older man’s elbow and guides him toward me. Her eyes flare wide for just a second when she sees me, then her attention is back on her other patient.
“Okay, Leonard, I’ll see you next week. Don’t forget to ask Carmen to help with those exercises.”
The old guy salutes her. “Will do, Lily. Thanks again.”
She turns to me, popping one hip out and folding her arms across her chest. I get the feeling she’s assessing me and somehow finding me lacking.
“Well, let’s go, Donnelly.” She pivots on her feet and walks swiftly over to the doorway to the private room.
Inwardly, I groan. Great, time for more pain.
When I get inside, I sit down on the edge of the bed and start to toe off my shoes. Lily closes the door and lowers herself on to her stool. “Okay, so, did you remember to take the meds this morning?”
I nod.
“Great. And have you been icing and stretching like I asked?”
Another nod.
“Wonderful.” She pauses, and I feel her eyes on me as I lift my legs up onto the table. “Is today a grunt only day or am I going to get some words out of you?”
My eyes lift to meet her clear gaze. Her eyes are a perfect grey, light with a dark rim. They’re kind of mesmerizing.
I give my head a shake. Man, I’m starting to lose it if I’m busy describing someone’s eyes as mesmerizing.
“Sorry,” I rasp. “Tired.”
“And hungover, judging by the bloodshot eyes and fumes wafting off your body,” Lily notes.
Embarrassment fills me. Somehow, Lily calling me out on the drinking hits way worse than when my brothers do it.
“Sorry,” I say again.
Lily drapes a towel over my shorts and picks up the bottle of massage oil. “It’s fine. I understand needing to escape for a while, and using alcohol probably feels like the easiest option. But it’s not great for rehab. It dulls your senses, slows your reaction time, and adds a layer of discomfort that makes it challenging to determine what is true pain and what’s hangover pain. Not to mention the obvious rule of not mixing pain medication with booze, and honestly, the painkillers would do more for you. So in the future, if you could avoid drinking the night before our sessions, that would be helpful.”
Well, fuck. Now I want to go home and throw out all the booze. Somehow, this woman’s reprimand has me wanting to change the self-destructive habit I’ve fallen into when nothing else did.
Her warm hands land on my shin and I flinch.
“Oops, that’s on me, I should’ve warned you I was starting. Are you okay with me continuing?”
