Page 82 of Romeo

“Strained my hamstring fuckin’ you.”

“Bullshit,” she repeated, then lifted her eyes and met his. Her pounding heartbeat jumped into her throat. “You didn’t tell that to Maribeth, did you?” Again, this man had no filter. She wouldn’t put it past him to tell the receptionist they’d had sex. Of course, at the same time flirting with the woman.

“Said I tweaked it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “On your morning jog?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

She pulled in a breath and shook her head. “You know, now I have to treat you like a real patient. Let’s not forget, bill you like one, too.”

“You can give me a discount.”

“I can’t. That’s not up to me. I’m not sure if you looked at our rates, but our services here aren’t cheap.”

“How you gonna service me?”

She tapped her fingertip against her lips as she pretended to seriously consider his fake injury. “Well, we could start out with some exercises?—”

“Naked?”

“Like hamstring curls. Then move on to some hip extensions and wall stretches.”

“Any of that hands on?”

“You mean like a massage?”

“Yeah, I’ll take one of those.”

“No, not for a strained hamstring. Should’ve come up with a better fake injury if you wanted a massage.”

He jerked his chin toward the clipboard she was holding. “Can I get that paperwork back?”

“Nope. But I can easily rip it up and on your way out the door, you can inform Maribeth that you’ve decided you can’t afford PT and will let it heal on its own.” Problem solved.

His brow creased. “Who the fuck said I can’t afford it? Think I can’t pay?”

“I was giving you an out,” she answered.

“You’re givin’ yourself a fuckin’ out.”

That, too.

“Just here to help you, woman,” he grumbled.

“Help I didn’t ask for,” she hissed. A knock on her office door had her whispering, “Shit.”

“Who’s that?” Romeo asked.

She bugged her eyes out at him. “I won’t know until I answer the door.” She had a good idea, though.

She looked from the door back to Romeo. At least he’d been smart enough not to wear his cut while trying to pull off this ruse.

Without waiting for her to answer it, the knob turned, and the door opened, getting jammed against the back of the chair Romeo sprawled in with his boots and thighs spread wide.

“I see I’m interrupting.” Roger peeked his head around the partially open door. His eyes sliced from Maddie to Romeo. “A new patient?”

“That’d be me,” Romeo answered, staring at her boss over his shoulder. He didn’t move a damn inch or even shift the chair enough to allow the door to open fully.

---