The next few minutes were spent in silence. As he watched the image of her hand moving the wand over his thigh reflected in her glasses, he tried to think of a way to bring up what came next, but she spoke first.
“It’s been a pleasure treating you,” she said, staring down at his leg and concentrating on the deliberate circles of the wand. “I have to admit, I didn’t know how this was going to play out at first. I didn’t know if you were going to be one of those jocks who didn’t understand that this isn’t an opportunity for a hook up. That’s not to say you didn’t have your fair share of cutesy remarks, because you did.” She glanced up at him, the corners of her lips curled into a tiny smile. “But they were harmless, and I actually found you to be very endearing. You proved to be the perfect gentleman. I appreciate that.”
He would never insult her by disregarding her request to keep things professional. He’d flirted a bit but never crossed the line. “This is your work. Your profession. I would never disrespect that.”
The wand on his leg paused, and she nodded slightly. “You’re a good man.”
“I am.” He realized it sounded arrogant, so he elaborated. “I’m not trying to brag or show off. I’m not like that. Never have been. I’m not one of those egocentric jocks who thinks they’re God’s gift to the sport. Or the world. Or to women. I’m just a guy who’s lucky enough to excel at a sport I love. I’m humbled by the opportunities I’ve been given and the success I’ve achieved. But nothing was handed to me. I worked for all of it. Hard. Look what I’ve put my body through.” He motioned to his leg. “This was just one of thousands of falls. I put my career—and my health—on the line with every game. I give it everything I got. I don’t take anything for granted. My father always told me that if I work hard enough, I can do anything. He taught me to respect the sport, and, along the same token, I respect anyone who works for what they’ve achieved. Look at all you’ve achieved. You’re amazing. How old are you?”
She sat back in her chair, the wand poised in her hand. “Did you really just ask a woman her age?”
“Oh. No.” His eyes ballooned at the faux pas. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. I just meant that you’re so young, and you’re a doctor, and you have a string of letters after your name as long as the alphabet.”
The corners of her mouth stretched across her cheeks in a wide smile, and she emitted a delightful laugh. “You should see your face!”
Relieved that she had only been pretending to be upset by the question, he exhaled. “Seriously, how many degrees do you have.”
“Twenty-eight.”
His mouth dropped open. “You have 28 degrees?”
“No.” She chuckled. “I only have a Bachelor of Science, a doctorate, masters, plus I’m a board-certified clinical specialist in orthopedics and sports physical therapy. I’m working on my second masters, though, so that number will be increasing. I meant I’m 28 years old.”
He knew she was younger than him, but still surprised she’d done so much before she was 30.
“How old are you?” she asked.
He thought she’d know the answer to that question, since she knew so much about him already.
When he didn’t answer right away, she stopped moving the wand on his leg and looked at him. “It’s only fair. I told you how old I am.”
“I know. I just thought you knew all my stats. After all, you’re a big fan. Right?”
She paused to give him a teasing eye roll.
“I’m 32,” he said. “That’s old for a football player. Isn’t it crazy that 32 is old?”
“You’re not old. You’re in fantastic shape. I see athletes in their mid-twenties that have abused their bodies so badly they can barely walk from here to the front door. You went down hard. And you were T-boned on the way. Any other player probably would be out for the season or would have sustained a career-ending injury. You bounced back in a little over a week. These last few days were a breeze. I’ll be honest with you. You could return to playing football tomorrow.”
The remark about returning to football tomorrow should have been the statement that stood out, but he was more focused on the fact that she knew he was T-boned. He hadn’t told her that part, which meant she saw the game. Little remarks like that always made his head swell. If this kept up, he’d float away.
His mind returned to what she said about him being ready to return to football, and he almost jumped out of his seat. He opened his mouth, ready to express his excitement about the news, but she cut him off.
“Calm down. Don’t rush into anything. I’m overcautious because I care.” She rested her hand on his calf. “I don’t want to see you re-injure this leg. Take a few more days.”
He looked down at her hand, his leg tingling from her touch, and realized that she finished with the thermal ultrasound and had wiped his leg clean. For the last few minutes, they’d been talking casually, and their conversation turned personal. And she was addressing him by his first name now, as if they were friends and not a doctor and a patient.
“I’m going to miss seeing you every day,” he said, filled with sincerity. “I like watching you work.” He added the last part because he wasn’t going to ask her out during a therapy session. He also wanted to give her the lead-in to suggest more.
She smiled wistfully. “Come back and visit anytime.”
That’s exactly what he planned to do.
The moment Robert set foot in the Bucks’ locker room for his first practice, a burst of energy made his heart race. The scent of lemon cleaning solution, with the faint hint of sweat lingering in the air, felt like home. So many memories filled his head—the victories and the losses, the strategies, Coach’s famous pep talks, the anticipation, the adrenaline, the drive, and the general love of the sport—were all contained inside these walls. Some of the less-than-pleasant times also made him smile. His teammates had their fair share of rivalry, arguments, and fist fights, but it only strengthened the bond they shared.
“Blade! “Martinez, the Bucks’ captain, shouted in greeting, arms wide open. “Ready for practice?”
Robert received a hardy bro-hug. “Been ready. I just needed to get the final OK from Dr. Mendelson.”
