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Again, Josh managed to get himself into my office alone, wearing the same inviting grin he’d worn the last time I shared his company. His face shaved, his eyes bright and alert, and his hair perfectly styled, Josh offered his left hand once more which I shook with an assertive grip.
“Good morning, Mr. Adams. How’s your knee feeling today?” I asked, making easy conversation as I pulled his file from my desk.
His gaze was purposeful and he seemed to follow my movement as I bent to retrieve the folder, no doubt checking out how well my pants fit me, and then he said, “Better than it did a week ago, Ms. Roberts.” Goosebumps rippled down my arms when I met his eyes again and found them still unabashedly fixed on me.
What he said next made me tuck my lower lip between my teeth in curiosity—“You look pretty, standing there by the window with the sunlight coming in.” Josh uttered it so casually I almost thought he misspoke, but the challenging smirk on his face told me it was entirely intentional.
Deciding to let it slide for now, given that his compliment wasn’t outright sexual like the other comment he’d made, I politely responded, “thank you, Mr. Adams. Now that you’ve gotten your flirting out of the way, would you take a seat over there?”
I gestured to the other half of my office which had been outfitted as a small gym. In the center were two chairs surrounded by a variety of foam rollers, stretch bands, and other small stretching equipment. Josh glanced in the direction I pointed and then looked back at me. “Gladly.”
Waiting for him to get settled, I fiddled with the knickknacks on my desk and when I heard the sound of his crutch being placed on the floor, joined him. I always tried to show clients they could do more than they thought while injured, which is why I hadn’t helped him into his chair, and by the self-satisfied smile on his face, I knew I’d made the right choice.
“Alright, Mr. Adams,” I said, setting his folder on the floor and motioning toward his knee. “Can I take a look?” Josh wordlessly rolled the hem of his pant leg up, giving me a glimpse of his swollen joint.
“Okay, I’m going to put my hands here and, without pressing or anything, try to get a physical sense of your injury, alright?” I informed him, waiting until my patient nodded before delicately caressing his knee with my fingertips.
He patiently let me prod for a few moments in silence and when I pulled away muttered, “Feel anything weird?”
“Nothing other than the swelling,” I assured him while picking up his file to make a few notes. “Have you been able to put any weight on it at all in the past week?”
“I tried last night,” Josh said, wrinkling his nose at the memory. “Didn’t go so well.”
Ignoring how cute I thought he looked with such a boyish expression on his face, I cheerily replied, “You’re still on your way to recovery so don’t let that bum you out. If anything, your desire to put weight on it is a step in the right direction.”
“If you say so,” my patient sighed, leaning back in his chair. “How’d someone like you get into a job like this?”
His phrasing was brash and because I didn’t know the real intention of his words, I replied in kind, answering curtly, “I did well in school and used my passion for knowing how the human body moves to get where I am now.” Josh raised an eyebrow at the phrasing of the latter half of my sentence and I didn’t let him comment, instead asking a similar question, “What doyoudo for work?”
I had assumed he was in something financial with what I supposed was a nine-figure salary, some corporate job that kept him behind a desk all day until he could experience his midlife crises while on vacation.
Josh surprised me. “I’m in publishing. I own Collective Expectations which puts out seventy thousand books a year.” He regarded me nonchalantly. “Do you like to read?”
Furrowing my brows, I replied, “Of course I do. Doesn’t everyone have at least one book they enjoy?”
“You’d be surprised,” he shot back with a smirk. “What kinds of books does a girl like you like to read?”
There they were again, those two words that suggested I was different. “You keep implying I’m not like otherwomenmy age, Mr. Adams,” I noted calmly, scrutinizing his expression when I added, “Why?”
Josh whistled lowly. “You’renotlike them, are you, Ms. Roberts? After all, that’s why I picked you.”
I could feel myself growing frustrated but managed to maintain my questioning expression. “What’s so special about me? And if you say some dirty joke, you’ll be seeing yourself out.”
He frowned and leaned forward, resting his left hand on his uninjured knee, crowding into my space to say, “I need a physical therapist, not Miss Manners.”
Mimicking his body language, I got close enough to feel the heat of his breath on my face. “And I didn’t agree to be your next conquest, Mr. Adams. I thought we came to an understanding the last time you made inappropriate comments.”
Josh’s mouth formed a hard line as his jaw tightened in annoyance. “Have I said anything outrageous today? No, didn’t think so.” This sudden gruffness was making my thighs squeeze together involuntarily as I sought relief for the ache building inside of me. I had never been so frustrated yet so aroused by a man before and it was beginning to show.
My client caught the subtle movement in my legs, his lips curling upward sinfully. “You doing alright, Ms. Adams?” he mocked. “Now who’s being inappropriate in her office?”
With a face that was almost the same shade of red as my hair I stood and marched over to my desk. Over my shoulder I decisively said, “This session’s over. We’ll only bill you for the half hour and I’ll see you next week.”
He chuckled while adjusting his pant leg and grabbing his crutch. “You can charge me for the full time. Think of it as a consolation prize since I managed to irk you so much.”
“Mhmm,” I grunted, doing my best to keep the humiliated waver out of my voice. “Have a nice rest of your day, Mr. Adams.” My ears picked up the shuffling sound of his shoes and the squeaking of my door and I thought I was rid of him until—
“See you next week,Red.”
