Page 38 of Opening Strain

“I have an open-door policy for all my physical therapists. It’s as much for them as it is for me, you know. Keeps me involved.”

Something tells me she knows more about physical therapy than the Asshole ever will. “Don’t you miss it, though? Being hands-on?”

“Seems like I’m pretty hands on with you.”

Other ways she could be hands on with me flit through my brain.Whoa.“Guess it falls on me to keep you on your toes. Can’t rely on Austin for everything.”

“I probably should see some patients now and then. To keep my skills sharp.”

The server comes and I pay for our meal, as promised. This interlude has made me see Jenna as more than my physical therapist—or Darren’s ex. She’s quiet, yet vivacious when talking about something that stirs her soul. Outgoing in a reserved kind of way. Her inner strength is captivating.

And still on theDo Not Fucklist. Perhaps it’s not as ironclad as I once believed?

I stand up from the table, only to have my bad leg hip checked. Pain shoots throughout my body. “Holy fuck!”

My yelp could be heard throughout the restaurant. The perpetrator—Michelle—caresses my mid-thigh. “Oh my God, Bennett. I didn’t realize you were there.”

Jenna rushes to my side. “Get your hand off him. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

I’m ushered into my chair, stars tangoing before my eyes. The server returns to see if she can do anything, and Jenna orders an ice pack. Oh joy.

Hovering, Michelle now strokes my shoulder. “I’m so very sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?”

A frown mars Jenna’s face. “Seriously, Michelle?” she snaps. “Haven’t you done enough already?”

In a saccharine voice, the bitchy chick replies, “If he were getting the therapy he deserves, I’m sure he would’ve taken my little mistaken tap in stride.”

The server returns with some ice in a baggie, which Jenna places onto my thigh. My physical therapist then steps between Michelle and an empty chair, positioned in front of me.

Jenna directs me to elevate my leg, which I do. She returns her attention to Michelle. “How do you know I’m working with Bennett?”

A smirk crosses Michelle’s face, her glossy lips twisting. “He told me.”

Jenna stands to her full height, a couple of inches shorter than Michelle. “Then let me do my job.”

“Like you did with your other boyfriend?”

This ramps down from entertaining to downright nasty. “Ladies. I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I was surprised, that’s all.” The throbbing has dropped from a twelve down to a ten. Bordering on nine.

Michelle tosses her long brunette locks and points at Jenna. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and get this poor guy a drink?” Her fingers swoop in to stroke the hair on the back of my neck. I move away.

“We were finished and about to return to my clinic before you got here.” Jenna stands her ground.

I can’t help but notice the way she used the word “my” before clinic. My palm moves and some ice falls over the side of my thigh, causing me to hiss.

Michelle bends down to check out what’s wrong, her lips inches away from my junk. Jenna places her hands on her hips. “Seriously. Are you going to massage his pulled muscle or give him a blow job?”

The last two words out of Jenna’s mouth are so unexpected, my lips drop open. Michelle’s not distracted by them, though. “At least he’d enjoy it.”

I address the annoying Michelle. “All right, I can handle this from here. Jenna’s doing the right thing by icing and elevating my leg. Why don’t you go on your way?”

Michelle licks her plump, glossy lips. “You can’t mean it.”

The way the woman’s acting is nuts. We’ve met a grand total of two whole times. Plus, she insulted Jenna, who’s standing behind her, her eyes spitting fire. I know where my loyalties lie.

“I do, Michelle. Why don’t you find some other guy who’s receptive?” I’m not. And after today, I’ll never be.

“Well.” She huffs as she stands, towering above me in the chair. “Good luck with this...ice queen.” She flounces away.

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