“Neither do you.”
“Not what I meant.” He shakes his head, a smirk curving the corner of his lips. “What happened to your neck?”
“It’s fine.” I wave to Raymond and Quinn as they follow the teams out into the hallway. “I just tweaked it.”
“I can take a look at it if you want. You might be out of alignment.”
My eyes widen as I feign terror. “And give you control over my spinal cord? No, thanks.”
“I’m a professional.” He puffs out his chest. “I know what I’m doing.”
I shake my head, and then clutch the side of my neck. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
Landon slides the strap of my bag off my shoulder and strides ahead of me, carrying my duffle with his own. “Let’s go.”
“I said I’m fine.” I speed up to walk beside him. “Give me back my bag.”
“Stop being so stubborn for once in your life. Maybe that’s why your neck is so tight.”
“You don’t know anything about my neck.”
He pushes open the door to the main entrance of the school, and heads for the parking lot. “I know you’re high-strung and wound as tight as a drum.”
“Tight as a drum?” My nose scrunches. “What’s with you and these idioms? You sound like an old man.”
He chuckles as he clicks the button on his key fob to unlock his Explorer before swinging open the passenger door.
“You’re opening doors for me?” I bat my eyelashes. “My Prince Charming.”
He rolls his eyes. “Can’t you let someone do something nice for you?”
“Someone? Sure. You? No.”
He slams the door shut. “Fine. Good luck with your neck.” He shoves my duffle into my chest and mumbles something about me being a pain in his ass as he rounds the front bumper.
“I’ll meet you there,” I blurt out.
I can’t believe I’m letting this man work on my neck, but I’m desperate. This shit hurts.
Five minutes later, I pull into the spot beside Landon at the front of the physical therapy clinic. I’ve never been inside this place, but dozens of players have cycled through over the last couple of years. Our sports program has a good rapport with the new owner—Quinn’s sister, Sloane—and she always welcome our athletes.
Landon heads inside, letting the door close in my face before I can reach it. I chuckle to myself as I yank it open and follow him in.
The receptionist greets me with a bright smile. “Hi, Ainsley.”
“Hey, Nancy. I’m with him.” I jerk my thumb in the direction of Landon. “Unfortunately.”
“I heard that,” he calls from several feet ahead.
“I meant you to.”
Nancy shakes her head as she smiles. “Nothing has changed since you two were teenagers.”
Not sure that’s such a good thing.
“Here comes trouble.” Sloane Whitaker smiles as I enter the therapy room. I’ve met her a bunch of times, and she’s cool. She comes out to games and helps stretch players on the sidelines.
And I make fun of Evan because of the way he stares at her when he thinks no one is watching. She’s ten years younger than him, and way too sweet for his old, grumpy ass.
