Page 63 of Opening Strain

My head shakes before my mouth catches up. “No. I don’t want to be the reason you skip a meeting.” I place my hands on the armrest and begin to right the chair.

Jenna runs into the room. “I found this towel. Not my ideal ice pack, but it’ll do.”

Angie asks, “How long should he have it on?”

“Thirty minutes,” my physical therapist replies in time with my mental answer.

The couple exchange a glance. King says, “Jenna, if we show you how to lock up, would you mind taking care of that for us? We need to get back to the office before then and we don’t want to interfere with Bennett’s recovery.”

I hate feeling like a baby.

“Are you sure that would be all right?” Jenna doesn’t direct her question to me, rather seeks confirmation from Angie.

“Yes, it’s perfectly fine—the homeowners aren’t in town anyway.” Angie points. “We weren’t able to show you the basement, which has a bowling alley, massive bar, state-of-the-art workout room, some arcade games, and another full bath.”

“I’ll take your word that it’s gorgeous.” In the chair, I ensure my leg is stretched and my thigh covered with the ice. King and Angie nod at me, then they leave. Jenna follows them.

A few minutes later, Jenna approaches me again. “What’s your pain level?”

“Right now, I’d give it about an eight.” Nearing ten, but I keep this to myself. She already feels bad enough.

“I’m so sorry about the noise.”

“You didn’t mean it.”

She goes to lift the ice pack again, and I catch her wrist. “Let it be.”

I pull her downward until she’s sitting on the arm of the chair. I slide my butt to the side and she slips into the main chair with me. I cup her cheek. “Distract me.”

She sucks in air. Her eyes roam over my face, her pink tongue peeping out of her mouth. I want to kiss her silly, but I don’t know if that’s what she wants. Or needs.

Since when do I wonder what a woman needs?

“I’ve watched your performances on YouTube with the new guy.”

“Tris,” I supply. “He’s great on keys in a different way than Darren was.”

“Yeah. I hear you.” She twists her hips so her left one rests on the main cushion. Her arm snakes toward the ice pack, then detours to my forearm. “You guys are great.”

“Thanks.” For some reason, I want to confess a truth to her. Something that’s been eating at me since dinner. “We’re not really friends, you know.”

She tilts her head.

“UC. Granted, we’ve known each other for ages—well, except Tris—but I don’t think of the guys as my friends. Don’t get me wrong. We laugh a lot and perform together onstage. But I don’t consider them to be my friends.”

Jenna continues stroking my forearm. “None of them?”

“Not really.” No one knows about my mother. Or cares to delvetoo deep into any of my lyrics. “When we’re not on tour, we don’t hang out together.”

“But Darren used to get together with Pierce all the time.”

“Well, true. Those two were rather inseparable.”

“What about River and Cooper? They always were hanging around with Darren. I remember him telling me about their exploits.”

I swallow. “Yeah, well, they did graduate high school together. They formed Untamed Coaster before I joined it.”

Her hand stills. “Aren’t you lonely?”

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