“They’re very boring,” Rodriguez says cheerfully. “But effective, I guess.”
“Who’s been your most difficult patient?” Luca asks from across the table. “Besides Captain Stubborn here.”
“Hey,” Roman says mildly.
“You added thirty pounds to your prescribed exercises,” I remind him.
“Once.”
“Three times.”
“The first time was a test.”
“Of what?”
“Whether you were paying attention.”
The words are delivered completely serious, but there’s something in his eyes that makes me think he might actually be teasing.
“And the other two times?”
“Insurance.”
I laugh. “Insurance against what? Proper healing?”
“Boredom,” he says, still perfectly serious. “Your exercises are boring.”
“Well you never seemed bored, showing up early to every appointment.”
Dex perks up. “Wait, early? How early?”
“Once it was forty-five minutes early,” I confirm. “Except that Friday you came in late, limping, complaining about your IT band.”
Roman goes very still beside me.
“Your left IT band,” I continue, something nagging at my memory. “You were very specific about it being the left.”
“It was tight,” Roman says carefully.
“But you were limping on your right leg.”
Silence. The entire table is watching now.
I turn to look at him fully, pieces finally clicking into place.
“Your IT band wasn’t hurt at all, was it?”
Roman’s mouth quirks slightly but he doesn’t answer.
“Oh my God.” The full picture crystallizes in my mind. “You came in limping on the wrong leg because you wanted—you thought I would—” I stop, face flaming as I realize exactly what treatment an IT band injury requires.
Deep tissue work. On the hip. On the glutes.
My hands on his?—
“You faked an injury,” I say slowly, “to get me to massage your—” I can’t even say it. “And instead you got forty minutes in an ice bath with Jake?”
The table has gone completely silent.
