Page 12 of Frozen Flames

If our breathing in close proximity does something to me, imagine my seeing him naked. Now that would be pretty awkward.

I’m a professional though. If I needed to, I would.

Harvey takes one more step, then another, before his legs shake horribly. I put my arms around his torso just in case.

“I have you,” I whisper, helping him get through this moment.

He clears his throat, a bit out of breath. “I’m fine. Today’s not a good day. Let’s just do the other exercises.”

“Okay, grab on to this bar.” He puts his hands around it while I take the other bar closer to the wall. I bring his kitchen chair over, and he sits on it without any struggle.

“Thanks. You’re not going to give me a speech about not finishing?”

I’m taken aback by his question. “Of course not, Harvey. You listen to your body. If today’s not a good day, then perhaps tomorrow will be.”

A solemn expression comes over his face, and he simply nods. Then he proceeds with weight training and wrist exercises.

I don’t bother him.

I just tell him what I want from him. Otherwise, I stay quiet.

The only thing speaking is our eyes. He’s barely looked away from me since I made that comment about listening to his body.

I muster every cell within me to remember that he’s my patient and he has a girlfriend. Yet as he hands me back the weights after multiple sets and then pushes his hand through his disheveled straight blond hair, I wonder for a split second what it would be like to see him sweat without a shirt on.

I take the weights back to the corner of the mat, knowing I need to relax. The last thing I should be doing is lusting after him.

So I shift my focus.

I avoid his gaze and simply take notes on my work iPad to finalize his chart. I let him know that we’ll be working on legs tomorrow.

“Alright” is all he says before transferring to his wheelchair and going off to his room. He shuts the door louder than necessary, as if I’m responsible for ruining his day.

I sigh deeply.

I don’t know what his problem is. I don’t know if he’s always like this or if he simply hates me.

Later, I text Audrey to tell her I’ll pick her up from school. She spends the entire ride home and while I’m making dinner chattering about girls in her class who post slutty videos online. I remind her not to judge and to keep doing her own thing, but her gossiping tongue can’t resist.

When my mom comes home later in the evening, we all eat together, listening to Audrey recapitulate her day. When it’s time to clean up afterward, though, my sister’s off to her room in no time, while I’m stuck putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

“You cooked, Claire. I’ll do it,” my mom tells me, shooing me away.

I don’t object. I prepare two teacups for us and bring them to the dining table, where I sit, watching my mom, her medium blonde hair tied back smoothly.

I can still remember my younger days when I looked up to her and wished dearly and enthusiastically that I could grow up to be just like her.

I admire her.

She works hard, and despite her busy career, she always managed to prioritize me and my sister.

“How was your day with your patient?”

Patient.It feels weird calling Harvey that.

“His name’s Harvey. He’s…difficult.”

“More difficult than your baby sister?” She smiles, wiping her hands with a towel once she’s done cleaning everything up.

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