He patted his gym bag. “Right here.”
“Good. The whirlpool is in Room 6. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
He struggled to get to his feet, even with the assistance of his cane. He still couldn’t put his full weight on the leg, and he was afraid he’d twist his knee.
“Wait!” The receptionist came running over. “Mr. Blade, let me help you.” She dropped the bottle of water on an empty chair and supported Robert’s arm and helped with a hand on his back.
“Thanks. I’m OK. It’s just awkward with the cane. You should get some seats with chair lifts in here,” he joked.
The receptionist laughed way too hard, and Robert chuckled at her overzealous reaction.
“Don’t forget your water.” She carried it to him. “Are you sure you’re OK?”
“Yep. Thanks.”
Room 6 was a large room with a hot tub, a privacy screen to change, and racks with towels and robes. It looked like a spa and felt like one too. The steamy water in the tub bubbled invitingly, creating a warm mist in the room, while the scent of lavender permeated the air with tranquility.
“Wow,” he said out loud. This place was truly top of the line. His old physical therapy office was nothing like this. Excited about relaxing in the tub and imagining the relief it would give his sore leg, he quickly changed his clothes. Wearing only his swim trunks, he started toward the whirlpool but stopped when he heard a knock at the door. “Come in.”
“Let’s get you—” Dr. Morgan stopped mid-sentence and mid-stride, with her hand still on the doorknob. Her gaze slowly washed over Robert from head to toe and back up to his eyes as she took in his half-naked body. She stared at him for a second, her lips slightly parted, before she took a deep breath and blinked away the expression on her face. “Let’s get you into the tub and your muscles relaxed before I get you stretched and massaged.”
Her reaction to his physique made his heart race and, surprisingly, his cheeks blush. His smile stretched to ridiculous proportions when she mentioned a massage, but he wiped his hand across his jaw to hide it.
His attempt was unsuccessful, and she gave him an amused eye roll. “Just get in the tub.”
The water washot, and he flinched when it hit his ankle. Cautiously, he slowly lowered himself into the water, allowing his body to get used to the temperature. The last thing he needed was to scald his private parts, because that would make for areallyawkward physical examination. Once he was submerged up to his neck, the heat enveloped him like a warm blanket. Jets of pulsating water hit him at every angle, causing his body to relax under the pressure and heat, and all tension dissipated.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Dr. Morgan asked, sitting at the small desk in the room and opening her laptop.
“Yeah. I’ve never seen a hot tub like this one.”
“Nothing’s too good for my patients. How was your night? Did pain prevent you from sleeping well?”
Last night was the first night since his injury that he didn’t wake up with a jolt as he unconsciously rolled onto his sore leg, and he hadn’t realized until now how poorly he’d been sleeping. “Not at all. I slept great. I called my coach this morning and told him how good I feel.”
She paused with her fingers perched on the keys of her laptop, listening, so he continued.
“I texted my dad and about a dozen of my teammates. I bragged about all your accomplishments. Expect a ton of work because I really talked you up. Your credentials,” he specified. “I didn’t make one comment about how beautiful you are.”
She paused again while typing and displayed a small smile, but she didn’t look up from the laptop. “I appreciate that.” When she was done making notes, she closed the laptop, held it to her chest, and leaned against the wall.
His eyes dropped to her bare lower legs, which were gracefully crossed at the ankles as if inviting his gaze to wash over them. Not wanting to stare, he returned his eyes to her face. He couldn’t get over those glasses. She could have picked more modern frames, but she chose the retro style. She probably thought they played down her attractive features, but their simplicity made her more glamorous.
“Any questions?” she asked.
“What made you go into physical therapy?”
A smile broke through her serious expression. “About your treatment.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just curious.”
“Fair enough.” She relaxed a little. “I’ve always been a huge sports fan. Watching my favorite players get injured was hard. I think everyone feels it a little when a football player gets tackled and smashed to the ground. Or when a basketball player takes a nasty spill on the court. I wanted to find out about their care and prognosis and read everything I could. That’s when I decided I wanted to do something in sports medicine.”
“How old were you?”
“I was still in high school. I had a definite career path early on. I love helping my patients. There’s nothing more rewarding.” She uncrossed her ankles, which beckoned Robert’s gaze once again, and placed her hand on the doorknob. “Relax and let the water do its job. I’ll be back in 20 minutes.”
“Wait. Don’t go yet.” She was starting to let her guard down, and he didn’t want her to leave. “Don’t you want to know about me? About when I got into football?”
