Page 8 of Tethered Hearts

“Backwards and forwards is just about it.” He chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Her full lips formed a pout, and for a brief moment, he wondered if they were as soft as they looked. What they would feel like beneath his own?Calm down, Matt. Just because someone makes you laugh doesn’t mean you have to think about kissing them. Stop being so desperate.

“I am very disappointed, Matt. I was really hoping you’d be able to show me some cool tricks. Some wheelies, or something.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. What could he say? He hated the wretched thing. Couldn’t wait to toss it off a cliff. Learning to perform wheelies wasn’t high on his list of things to do. Then again, his to-do list was completely blank.

Brie parted the curtains and wheeled in a metal frame with padded elbow supports. “Your chair is okay, but this,” she patted the foam armrests, “is what’s going to get you up and moving. Then we’ll see about those dance moves.”

He raised an eyebrow. Martin had attempted to use the rolling frame on a few occasions as part of his therapy, but the pain had been too much and they’d abandoned their efforts moments after they’d started. Surely Brie had read that in his notes. Why did she think she’d be successful in getting him moving today?

“I know you’ve used this beast before, and you haven’t had much luck.” She lined up the frame on either side of his legs. “But, I’m not Martin, and I know you’re going to do just great.”

She most certainly wasn’t Martin, and for that, he was truly grateful. His heart wouldn’t be galloping like a racehorse in his chest, and he definitely wouldn’t be thinking such untoward thoughts if Martin were here.

The curtains parted and a young guy with spiky blond hair entered the space. He didn’t look much older than fifteen, but the fluff on his jaw put him around twenty at most. His baggy uniform swallowed his slim frame, and Matt only hoped he was stronger than he looked, and could catch him if his legs gave way.

“Jeffrey, this is Matt.” Brie cleared her throat, redirecting the guy’s star-gazed eyes to focus on the task at hand. She gave him a withering glare that Matt interpreted as a warning, and he was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end. “Matt, this is Jeffrey, and he’ll be helping us today. If he can focus on the task.”

“Hey, Jeffrey.”

“Hey.”

Matt pressed his lips together, holding back a chuckle at the kid’s stunned expression. He’d gotten used to the fawning and stares from strangers over the years. Crazy how a few records and standing on top of a podium could elevate someone to celebrity status. During his career, he’d witnessed the oddities of people’s reactions to him. They either clammed up or ogled him like Jeffrey seemed to be doing. Or they behaved like lunatics. Screaming for his autograph. Showing up at dawn, even in the middle of winter, to watch him train. Even proposing marriage. And the amount of fan mail he’d received over the years had been nuts. Thankfully, Blayne had intercepted most of it, and Matt hadn’t had to deal with clothing or other personal items that women somehow thought he’d want. Fame was a strange thing, giving people an unwanted invitation into his life. He’d always craved his privacy, but living in the spotlight gave people the impression that they knew him well.

“Jeff.” Brie snapped her fingers as her offsider remained transfixed by Matt’s presence. She gestured for him to hold the frame, while she moved behind Matt and placed her hands on his waist. An involuntary tremor shook his limbs as her fingers touched his body. He closed his eyes as electrical currents, much different from his nerve pain, coursed through him. The sensations were unfamiliar, yet welcome, and he relaxed into Brie’s touch. After being poked and prodded in more ways than he’d care to remember, her hands felt far less clinical and more like something he could easily get used to. Delicate, yet firm, her touch provided a strength that reassured him she knew what she was doing and she wouldn’t let him fall.

Lowering his head, he drew in a sharp breath, thankful she was standing behind him and he couldn’t see her. He’d be a lost cause if he met her gaze right now. He knew he shouldn’t be letting his mind wander. She was here to help him rehabilitate, and would be mortified if she had any clue as to what he was thinking. Was he really so starved for human affection that the simplest of touches from his physiotherapist made him yearn for something more?

Focus on the pain, not on her hands.Pursing his lips, he channeled his attention on the burning sensations in his legs as Jeffrey moved his limbs through the different exercises. Marching on the spot. Calf raises. Toe taps. Each movement felt like his limbs were on fire, or like someone was slicing through his muscles with a razor blade. Nerve pain was the worst. But it was better than thinking about Brie. He needed to focus on something else. He’d spent his entire career getting in the zone – at training, and in competition – to block out all other distractions. Focusing had seen him break records and win a prominent position on the world stage. Surely, he could home in on the pain for the rest of his session and ignore the distracting sensations Brie was eliciting from her touch.

“You’re doing so well, Matt!”

Her honeyed voice drew him out of his trance. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and landed on the floor as he huffed out a breath and sat down once Brie had moved away.

“You worked really hard today.” She patted his shoulder as Jeffrey wheeled the frame back through the curtains. “Even worked up a sweat.”

“Yeah.” He wiped his brow, then wiped his hand on his pants.

Crouching down with her hands pressed to her knees, Brie met his gaze. “I know it’s been a difficult journey for you, Matt. But I’m really proud of what you achieved today. You were in the zone, and I know it wasn’t easy, but you pushed through.”

He gave a tight smile and shifted into his chair. He’d only pushed through the pain to block out her touch. No one else set his skin on fire the way she did.

“I look forward to Thursday.” She parted the curtains, signifying the end of his session.

“Don’t get too excited.” It was more a reminder for himself than anything. The imprint of her hands on his waist still burned. He was looking forward to his next session, too, but he needed to remind himself that he was there to recover and rehabilitate, not fantasise about a woman who was only doing her job.

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