Page 25 of The Spark Between Us

Chapter Seven

Sarah

It tookme longer than I’d hoped to pull my sweatpants on because I had to lower myself into a squat while keeping my head facing straight ahead and barely moving anything above the waist. Getting a long-sleeved shirt on would be a challenge because I couldn’t raise my arms over my head.

Since I’d crashed last night without unpacking a thing, all my clothes were still in various duffel bags and suitcases. Thankfully, I was an organized packer.

I used my foot to push a blue duffel bag out from behind the others and squatted to unzip it. Several pairs of pajamas sat on top, and I grabbed the first one I found. I also pulled out a running bra, which I could step into and pull up. There was no way I’d be able to reach around behind me to fasten an everyday bra.

Eventually, I gave in to screaming in pain for a second, but I managed to pull the bra up my body through the neck hole and only winced once as I put my arms into the sleeves of the pajama top and buttoned it.

It was no worse than what I’d gone through trying to use the French press.

When I came downstairs, Braden was ready with a black ergonomic-looking table set up in the room next to the kitchen. He had music playing from his phone, some hip-hop band I didn’t recognize.

I was relieved. If he’d been playing some kind of spa music with singing bowls and birds chirping, it would have gotten very awkward, very fast. I didn’t need a roommate who ran a massage parlor.

Though this roommate...he made me think twice about hot guys not being my type. They were absolutely my type, even if ogling represented the closest I’d ever come to dating one.

Yes, I’m objectifying him. Hot guy magic—check.

Bella came galloping in from the yard and started circling my legs, whimpering and doing her non-jumping jumping thing until I squatted and gave her a big scratch behind the ears.

“Good morning. I didn’t see you before, were you still sleeping?” My dog-friendly voice came in an octave higher than my normal voice. I couldn’t help it. Bella was adorable and sweet.

I wanted to believe the same was true of her owner, but Braden seemed reluctant to let go of his stoic facade. Then he’d do something caring and kind like he was doing now, making it impossible to dismiss him as a mountain of muscle who liked dogs better than people. His generous, grumpy, confusing nature intrigued me.

He was messing around on the coffee table with a gadget that had wires and small white squares of tape dangling from the ends. When I leaned against the massage table, he looked up. “Who knew I’d end up needing an in-home physical therapist? Are all your houseguests clumsy? Is that why you have this?” I asked.

“I don’t have a lot of houseguests.”

Okay. Maybe that was why he seemed a little uncomfortable when it came to having me here.

He went back to untangling the wires.

“I’m almost ready. Haven’t used this in a while, and of course it’s a clusterfuck.”

His swearing made me laugh, which made my neck hurt more. “Ouch. Stop being funny.”

“Didn’t realize messes entertained you.” He shot me a stern glance, and I realized I’d already gotten used to the slightly peeved way he looked at me. It was almost a sexy scowl—if a person was into that sort of thing. And ...I was.

Since I’d never lived in close proximity to someone of such spectacular physicality and I probably wouldn’t again, I pushed my better behavior aside and continued objectifying him. I took the opportunity to assess the way his forearms and biceps flexed as he untangled the wires. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he got frustrated at the mess. He was . . . just so beautiful to look at.

I sighed. Then covered by clearing my throat. “I’d offer to help, but knowing me, I’d blow up your house.”

He grunted without looking up. “I’ve got it. Can you get up on this table, or do you need a hand?”

“I think I can manage it.” Courtesy of my pole dancing experience, I flipped one leg up onto the table and the rest of my body followed.

Glancing back at the jumble of wires, I started to feel concerned. “What the heck is that thing? Are you planning to shock me into submission? Because you could just tell me to chill. Save the pain.”

He looked up, seeming to focus on me for the first time. “Nice jammies.” I couldn’t dip my head to see what I’d put on, but I had two pairs that were the dark shade I pulled from my bag. They were either maroon plaid, or they were the ones with teddy bears cooking breakfast on them. “Okay, this is the e-stim I was talking about. It sends an electric charge at very mild frequencies and stimulates a response in your muscles. Helps them relax.”

Those wires and the potential for some awful shock treatment scared the crap out of me. And the more stern and humorless he was, the more I wanted to get a rise out of him. “Electrocution as a calming technique. Wow, someone needs to introduce you to yoga, big guy.”

“Cute.” He actually smiled. “It sounds counterintuitive, but I swear it gets results.”

With the wires now hanging from the contraption, he nodded to the table. “I need you on your stomach.” I smiled, imagining him saying those words to legions of women under very different circumstances.

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