Page 15 of Frozen Flames

I tidy up the kitchen and then finish setting up the rest of the equipment before I realize he’s not going to leave his room.

So I spend my time scrolling through Instagram, sending reels to my college friends. All of them took jobs out of state or overseas. Some days I really miss them. It would be nice to vent to them about how much of an ass Harvey can be, but I refrain. It’s not professional, plus I have my mom for that.

Surprisingly, not long after, Harvey shows up.

He avoids my stare and gets himself off his chair and onto the bars without much difficulty. I stand behind him, giving him some much-needed space.

And he goes hard at it.

And it makes me proud. That he’s taking his time, pushing through the trembling, letting it pass before moving forward at his pace.

His burgundy shirt is soaked with sweat at the end, so is his forehead. He’s red in the face, giving him a boost of color.

I wish he could see himself right now, the way I see him.

“You have it all wrong,” I whisper. “Not saying thank you or bringing your plate to the sink when you can, that can be avoided. But someone like you, in a wheelchair…” I laugh lightly, shaking my head. “The mental strength it takes each day to push yourself repeatedly while your body might not be cooperating, especially surrounded by judging eyes… Let’s just say the rest of us will never ever be able to comprehend that.”

His Adam’s apple moves, constricting in the middle of his sweaty neck. His blue eyes are blazing at me on full alert. He heard my message loud and clear, and, well, hopefully it gives him something to think about.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

I’m beaming, there’s no doubt about it. “My pleasure, Harvey.”

Harvey

There’s something about Claire.

One minute I want to tell her to shut up, to leave, hoping that things could go back to the way they were and Gemma could be here instead. But sometimes, just sometimes, Claire goes and blows me away with her words.

And her stares? She looks at me the way Gemma used to. As if I’m special and appreciated. Maybe even desirable.

And it almost bothers me.

The same way it bothers me when Gemma wants me.

It’s like a physical switch goes off, and I know I won’t be able to get turned on.

And then what? At what point will Gemma feel defeated, ruin her own self-confidence because she thinks it’s her fault, and start to resent me for it?

No, what we have now works for both of us.

She just might not know it yet.

I finish training, and I have a good session today. It puts me in a good mood. I’m in an even better mood once I’m freshly showered, and I can smell the sizzling bacon as I wheel myself to my room.

“Harvey, I’m making us BLTs…” Claire stops dead in her tracks when she notices I’m only wearing a towel.

If this is enough to make her stare, imagine what my abs would’ve done to her in the past. Though I’m seeing more definition to my stomach lately due to the weight training and eating Claire’s homemade meals.

I’m liking the progress.

“I’m so sorry… I should’ve knocked!” She swallows, a flush creeping over her cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Right. Well, I’ll let you get dressed.”

I watch her walk away in her dark green scrubs. The color goes well with her red hair, especially the pants.