Page 91 of Keeping 13

“Unnecessary,” I ground out. “I’m fine.”

“I see,” she replied even though she clearly didn’t see a damn thing. “And you’ve been doing your stretches and home exercises? You’ve been following the guidelines?”

Frustrated, I blew out a harsh breath and tried a different approach. “Listen, Doc, I’m going to level with you here. I have an important international campaign in the summer—one Ineedto be fit for. I’m doing everything you’re asking of me. I’ve done the physio. I’ve done the resting. I’ve done the bleeding everything, so I just need you to cut me some slack. I’m fit, I’m strong—” Resting my elbows on the table, I leaned forward and implored her with my eyes to take pity on me. “And I can’t wait anothermonthto get back out on the pitch.”

“You do realize how tremendously strenuous the surgery you’ve had has been on your lower body?” she asked, blinking back at me through her black-rimmed glasses. “Your body needs time to recover. Your muscles and tendons need time—”

“Then give me another two weeks and let me back out,” I interrupted. “I can do that. I can wait another fortnight, but you’ve got to help me out here. Ineedto get back on the pitch, Doc—”

“Johnny, you’re not listening,” the doctor cut in, tone sharp. “You’re recovering from two surgeries, in two separate areas of your anatomy. You need to havepatience.”

“I don’t have thetimeto have patience,” I shot back, jaw clenched. “What part of that doesn’t anyone get?”

“I understand that you’re keen to get back to playing, but you need to take caution—”

“He knows, Doctor,” my father, who was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, called out. “Patience is a virtue.” Dragging his gaze from a stack of paperwork he was sifting through, he turned his gaze on me. “Isn’t that right, Johnny?”

I glared at my father, using my eyes to communicate how little I cared about virtues. I was in a pissy mood with him and in no form for his early morning banter. He knew this and was still goading me.Lovely.

“Keep up with the program,” Dr. Quirke said, smiling knowingly at me. “And you’ll be back on the pitch in no time.”

“That’s reassuring,” I growled. “Because I havenotime.”

“Four more weeks,” she mused. “That’s nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

“Nothing except my future,” I grumbled, feeling thoroughly defeated.

“Well, I think we’re about done here.” Clasping her hands together, she gave me a bright smile. “I’ll see you next week for your follow-up appointment.”

“Lookingforwardto it,” I drawled sarcastically before turning to Dad. “Can we go now?”

“Thank you again for seeing us earlier than normal, Doctor,” Dad added, tucking his paperwork into his briefcase. “It’s his first day back after Easter and he’s hell-bent on getting to school.” Dad’s tone was laced with humor. “Apparently, his mother raised an overachiever.”

“That’s no problem, Mr. Kavanagh,” she replied, smiling knowingly. “And Johnny’s always a pleasure, but I’m sure he has some pressing engagements to attend to at school.”

“I’m sure he has,” Dad agreed with a smirk.

Jesus Christ…

Standing stiffly, I moved for the door, just about done with the whole bleeding lot of them, when the doctor called out, “Oh, before I forget—ejaculation should be fine now, Jonathan.”

The fuck?

I swung around and gaped at her. “Come again?”

The doctor smirked at me—she actually fucking smirked at me—before clearing her throat several times.

Was she laughing at me?

Shelookedlike she wanted to.

“The pain you were experiencing shouldn’t be an issue anymore,” she said instead, giving me a reassuring smile. “You’re good to go.”

“Uh…” I scratched my head, feeling unsure of how to deal with the curveball of humiliation I had just been thrown. “That’s, uh… Thanks?”

“Do you hear that, son?” Dad laughed, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “The doctor says you can pull on your balls again.”

Fuck.

---