Page 42 of Opening Strain

It’s time for me to face the music, or rather my physical therapist.Who I nearly kissed. But I didn’t.

I slip into my new warm winter coat and hike the blocks to the clinic. If the adrenaline from playing the arcade game revved me up, the cold wind keeps me in check. I arrive at the back door, unnoticed by the citizens of Aroostook. Being off-season has its perks.

I stand outside the building, trying to get the courage to go up. All I need to do is take the elevator to the second floor, go in the back room, and start doing my exercises. Jenna will see me and come out to supervise. That’s it. Easy peasy.

Then why is it as though I’m getting ready for my own execution? It was no biggie. It was so nothing she’s probably already forgotten about it.

My last thought spurs me to test the door, which is unlocked. I refuse to dwell on what this fact could mean as the elevator takes me to the second floor.

Too soon, I slip into the back exercise room and hang up my coat, then deposit my sweats next to it. On bare feet, I look for the towel I use when doing the slide-and-squat exercise, but don’t see it.

My chest expands. Time to face the music.

I approach her office door. Since I’ve never knocked before, I guess I shouldn’t start now. I fling her office door open only to see Jenna tossing some paperwork into a messenger bag.

She flinches. “Bennett. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Chapter Fourteen

“I’m here to do my second round of therapy.” I enter her office.

She drops some papers onto her desk. “Right.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sneaking out of here.” We were getting along great. Until—let it go, Bennett.

Jenna’s hand rubs up and down her arm. “I wasn’t sneaking. You weren’t here, so I wanted to go home and change.”

“Why? Have a hot date?” With Austin the Asshole?

She moves her shoulders. “Sure do.”

All my bravado slides to the floor. Why wouldn’t someone as smart, kind, and gorgeous as her have a date? My gaze bounces from her messenger bag to the floor. “Oh.” I suppress a sigh. “Do you have another therapist I could work with tonight?”

“No.”

My shoulders straighten. “Message received. Loud and clear.” I turn toward her office door.

“Wait,” she commands. “What I meant was I can work with you. I do have a date tonight, but not until a bit later.” She closes her eyes. “It’s my birthday and I’m going out with my mother to celebrate, like we do every year.”

“Oh, Happy birthday.” Heat flares up my neck. Now I feel like a schmuck. “I don’t want to keep you from your family gig.” This will be the second time this week she’s eating dinner with her mother. Such an occurrence is so far outside my own experience it’s as if she’s speaking Japanese.

“No worries.” She places her half-full messenger bag onto her desk. “Seriously. I’m not picking Ma up until eight.”

Keeping my gaze glued to the floor, I reply, “Then I better do my PT in record time.”

“Get started and I’ll be there in a few.”

“You got it.”

I return to the exercise room and start my normal exercises.Act normal, Bennett. Forget earlier’s non-event.Jenna enters and oversees my exercises, making adjustments as needed. Her hands don’t linger on my thigh, yet they don’t bounce away from it either.

We get to the towel on the floor and squat one, which I do with care. After the hip check from Michelle, I don’t want to aggravate it.

“I think you can add some weight to the squat,” Jenna pronounces.

My forehead wrinkles. “Weight?”

She hands me a twelve-kilo kettlebell and tells me to take it slow. “You seriously want me to do a squat with this? It’s twenty-six pounds!” My voice lifts at the end.

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