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“God, no. If he did, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. And Carter? He would have more to worry about than his arm. No, his punishment consists of going home, lying low, and working with me.” I scoff. “He may not know what’s going on, but he sure as hell is doing a great job of punishing us for it.”
“I know this is all bad, but you have to admit, this has the makings of a great romance. Forbidden romance, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, second chance romance, all wrapped into one.”
“You can forget the second chance part. Carter made sure I was more than aware of where I stood with him.”
“Meaning?”
“He told me I am his therapist, nothing more. Not now. Not ever.”
With a wave of her hand Abbie blows of the statement. “Men are such drama queens sometimes. Two days away from here with you and he’ll be on his knees beggingyoufor forgiveness.”
I roll my eyes.
“And,” she continues, “if that doesn’t happen… at least you get your dream job, right?”
I suppose that is a silver lining. When one door closes, another opens right? Now if only I can get Carter to work with me to help improve his arm.
Chapter10
Carter
When I walked out of the coach’s office, my head was spinning.
Seeing Lexie walk into the coach’s office? To hear her call him Daddy?
I half hoped she was having an affair with him rather than the reality.
The woman who turned my shit show of a life into something bearable is my coach’s daughter.
Fuck.
And to make matters worse, I’m going to be with her day in and day out?
The sight as I pulled out of the lot only served to remind me of my other problem. The video. Mobs of people, reporters, fans—probably more correctly, ex-fans—surrounded the place. Anywhere I went, I was going to succumb to the same fate, thanks to the shit show my life has turned into. The last thing I need is any more trouble or attention.
So, I go to the only place that’s safe—home.
I do the one thing I had been avoiding all day.
“Carter?” the voice on the other line says… my mom’s voice. A voice that’s usually comforts me is laced with distress… because of me.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Are you okay? What’s happening?”
“I’ll explain everything… when I get there.”
“Get there? You’re… you’re coming home?”
“Yeah. Coach thought it would be good for me to lie low for a while.”
“I’m not pleased with the circumstances, but I’m glad you’re coming home.”
“Me, too, Mom,” I lie. “There’s one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“My physical therapist is coming with me.”
