Page 8 of Physical Therapy

“Yeah.” Another step.

My fist closes on top of the desk. Unless you’ve got deep pockets, I’m not much of a people person.

“I’d like to take things further with her, but I need to get something straight first.”

What the fuck does he want? My blessing? Since when did I become the godfather of this goddamn circus? “Go ahead.”

He reaches the front of my desk; his sinewy hands clasp the front lip as he leans down to level our faces. “I’d heard you and her…” Jackass waves a hand between us. “You know.”

Fuck me—this is way too much fun now. “We what?”

“You know. You and her…”

Give it a second for emphasis… and… “Fucked?”

I swear the guy shudders. “Had a relationship. Yeah.”

Hands braced behind my head, I lean back a little further. “No, Rogers. No relationship for us. We only ever fucked.” I abruptly sit forward and send him reeling back. “Actually, no. She blew me a few times too.” I point to where he stands. “Right there.”

Poor sap nods. “I see.”

“But you know,” I say dismissively. “You can’t judge the poor girl by her past if you really like her that much.”

A hand goes to the back of his neck. “No. You’re right. I can’t.”

“I’m sure you’ll be happy together.” I feign interest in my laptop. “No need to worry about me, pal. Any history Kendra and I share is exactly that—history.”

He hesitates, seeming to collect himself. “Yeah. Thanks. Thanks for clearing that up for me.”

I watch him in my periphery, waiting until he steps foot just outside my office door. “I take it you’ve had the same conversation with Daniels and Malarkey then?”

He freezes, gaze fixed to the floor beside him as he answers. “No. I hadn’t.”

My breath hisses between my teeth. “Better make sure you see Malarkey at least. Pretty sure he still had an interest in her last month, man.”

God, I’m an asshole.

“Thanks for the advice, Johanssen.”

“Any time.” But damn, do I love it. “Wishing you two only happiness.”

It was cruel. Most definitely a little low. But hey. What else does Kendra expect after she stole my goddamn Gucci watch?

Mess with something I like? Then I mess with what you like.

It’s called getting even.

Simple.

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