Page 16 of Send It
I cross my arms, “It’s been a year since your surgery. Dr. Marlow cleared you, and he needs to know if you have pain.”
“Stop preaching to me, baby Bane. I’m fine.”
Scrolling through my phone I pull up the results of his motos, he barely finished top ten.
I shove the proof in his face, “That’s bullshit and you know it. Show me your leg.”
“No.” He snaps, pushing the phone away. “I told you it’s fine.”
I stare him down. “Then prove it.”
He lets out a deep growl as he lifts his leg up and rests his foot on the barstool. It’s swollen.
“You’re working yourself too hard. You need to ice that.”
I walk to the freezer and pull an icepack from the shelf, then motion for him to join me on the couch. He sits and I pull the ottoman over to us, and start untying his shoe. He watches me intently but doesn’t argue, and when I pull his sock down and off his foot, it feels like intimacy. Colson doesn’t let anyone get close to him like this and he sure as hell doesn’t let anyone “take care” of him. Colson takes care of himself. He’s always been like that.
I place the ice pack over the swollen part of his ankle beneath where his actual scar is located, and he winces.
“Cold?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “It does hurt.”
“I know it does,” I huff. “You should’ve finished your PT.”
He shakes his head, “She was making me do baby shit, and I’m an athlete, all the stretching and flexing felt a little preschool.”
I shake my head, “You are so stubborn. All that preschool shit is what helps build your muscle mass back. You didn’t work yourself back up to where you were, and you think you can just magically be the same, but I remember your bone nearly sticking through your skin. It takes a lot more work than you think.”
He looks at me, his eyes pleading, “Don’t tell your dad.”
I stare at him as he continues to beg, “Please, Linc. I’ll rest it. I swear.”
Giving him a look that says “yeah right” I sit back against the couch. “You won’t though. You’ll push and push and push until something bad happens.”
He leans over me, caging my face in with his hands, his palms resting against my cheeks, “I promise you that I will rest it.”
I size him up, “Go back to PT.”
“Fuck, no.” He growls, “I’m not doing that shit. It’s a waste of time, but I promise I won’t push past the limit.”
I tilt my brows in, “You don’t even know what the limit is, dipshit!”
His lips break from the hard line they’ve been pressed in, “You did not just call me a dipshit.”
“I did, it’s what you are when you get like this. A stubborn ass dipshit.”
He grins, still leaned over me, “Take it back.”
“Nope,” I say, popping the p.
His hands find my sides and start to tickle. I squirm around like a freak until we both freeze at the sound of the door opening. Colson’s eyes widen like saucers.
“What are ya’ll doing?” Reiss asks, coming straight over to us.
Colson’s face is a little pale as he answers, “Linc is making me ice my ankle because she doesn’t take no for an answer.”
Reiss looks at me and smiles, “She’s still mad at you for making her go to the doctor over her hip.”
