Page 44 of Physical Therapy

TWENTY-ONE

Boe

I hurl the bag of new clothes into the wardrobe space where my suits used to be; over five thousand dollars worth of expensive threads donated to a charity downtown that dress homeless trying to gain employment.

Literally the most generous thing I’ve done in my life. I guess it’s a little bit crazy what a woman can do to your head.

Thought you’d be here by now.

I toss my phone aside after sending the message and then head for a shower. The apartment is a goddamn mess still—new shit to personalize the space lying half unpacked on the sofa and kitchen counter—but who cares?

I feel lighter already.

Water droplets still dot my body when I step out of the bathroom to answer the buzzer. I let her in without saying a word through the intercom and then head back to my bedroom to throw on some clothes.

She steps into the living area at the same time I do, her hungry eyes roving over every inch of my bare chest. The only thing I have on? The gray sweatpants that seem to drive her nuts.

I adjust them a little lower onto the V of my hips. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

She surveys the furnishings laid out haphazardly around the place. “And yet you… prepared for me?”

“A work in progress,” I assure her, stalking closer. “Why?”

Her head inclines to one side. “Why do I want to know about your sudden remodeling?”

“No. Why did you come?” I clarify. “Talk to me, Edith.”

“I honestly don’t know.” She fidgets her hands before her, frowning down at them. “I just knew I didn’t want to miss out.”

Fingers beneath her chin, I draw her gaze up to mine.

“Why did you ask me?” she whispers. “Why did you ask me here tonight? Is this you simply using me again?”

My lips curl on one side. “I didn’t ask you.” She doesn’t protest as I tug the tie open on her coat. “I told you to be here. And no. I never used you. I just couldn’t admit the truth, so I lied.”

She shakes her head with amused frustration. “So complicated.”

“You love it.” I guide the dusky pink coat from her shoulders. It hits the floor with a satisfying swish. “What happens with my therapy now?”

She sighs, chest heaving. “I’d rather not discuss Mr. Johanssen with you outside of hours.”

My hands cradle the sides of her full breasts, thumbs tracing the swell. “I do believe I have a vested interest.”

Her gaze follows my caress. “I turned in the report. You’re officially… rehabilitated.”

Good girl. “See,” I say with a smug smile. “It all works out just fine.”

“Molly knows,” she admonishes. “If you want your diversion to stay valid, you need to be more discreet, Boe.”

“Fair point.” My hands cup her neck, thumbs massaging her throat. Goddamn, I want to grip onto this column tight while I fuck the daylights out of her. “I got you a key.”

“Pardon?” Her brow furrows.

I kiss it away. “While I was out. Got one of those little kiosks to cut a duplicate.”

“Boe…”

“Ssh.” She smiles as my finger presses to her lips. “You can thank me later.”

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