He shook his head. “But it’s only Tuesday.”
After Brett left, it only took Penny twenty minutes to decide there was no point staying in bed since her mind wouldn’t stop buzzing. She reluctantly left the warmth of Brett’s sheets and walked down the hall to use her own bathroom. It was more convenient with all her stuff there.
After changing into yoga clothes that she now knew Brett appreciated, Penny chopped up the leftover chicken, whisked four eggs, and tossed it all together with a handful of spinach, grape tomatoes, and feta in a frying pan. Brett would appreciate coming home to that, too.
Penny’s mind churned with all the different ways she could make his day better, and she yanked hard on the reins. No. She wasn’t going to let herself fall into that trap again. Yes, she noticed everything. Yes, she knew exactly what people wanted. Yes, she knew precisely how to give it to them. But with Brett, she couldn’t fall into that same pattern of making herself indispensable.
She needed to leave in five weeks, not only to help with the anniversary party and go on their family trip, but to learn how to be on her own. These weeks with Brett could be like a cheat day on a diet. Something to get her through since it was impossible to sit in front of a flourless chocolate cake andnothave a bite.
When the omelet was finished, she set the pan off to the side and took her half, then sat down and prepared her notes for the day. She journaled, prayed, and started yoga at seven on the dot. For fun, not because she had to.
Brett gratefully ate the omelet she made and ogled her with zero shame from his perch at the kitchen table. She loved it. Men had made it clear they appreciated her body before, but with Brett it didn’t feel like that was all he was looking at. When his eyes were on her she felt desired, but also adored. Like he couldn’t wait to pick apart another piece of her brain or hear another story about her growing up. It was like her body wasn’t enough for him, and that was a sensation she hadnoexperience with. It made her stomach swoop and her hands tingle.She hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed.
They made love before Brett left for work, then Penny showered and got ready for her first client. When Jordan arrived, she met him outside and walked to the back, making small talk. He told her about a new bakery downtown, then asked, “How’s Brett?”
Penny did her best to act nonplussed. “Good. He’s good.”
“Glad to hear it.”
After settling him onto the treatment table, Penny took an inventory of body changes since they’d last met, then dove right into the sequence of exercises she’d planned for their session. First, she had him lie on his side, supporting his injured arm with a small pillow.
"Start by lifting your arm to a ninety-degree angle," Penny instructed, watching closely as Jordan moved his arm slowly, the muscles in his bicep and forearm tensing with the effort. "Now, keeping your elbow bent, rotate your hand upwards until it's parallel with the ceiling. Good, now bring it back down."
Jordan followed her instructions, grimacing as he felt the stretch in his rotator cuff. This part was tough, but in her experience, athletes never wanted to admit the discomfort they felt. They’d grit their teeth and bear it.
"Next, I want you to try some external rotation exercises," Penny continued, handing him a resistance band. "Hold one end of the band in each hand, with your elbows bent at a ninety-degree angle. Now, keeping your elbows against your sides, pull the band apart as far as you can."
Jordan again obeyed, the strain evident on his face as he stretched the band taut between his hands. His muscles quivered under the pressure, beads of sweat dotting his brow.
"Nicely done," Penny praised, taking a few notes. "Now, let's finish up with some pendulum swings."
Jordan raised his eyebrow, and Penny laughed. “I know, these are your favourite in and out of treatment.”
He smirked as he positioned himself and allowed his arm to sway lazily beneath him. When he finished, Penny handed Jordan a towel to clean up.
"Brett’s lucky to have you at his disposal. Seems you have a magic touch.”
Penny’s cheeks warmed.If only he knew.“Flattery will get you nowhere, Wheatfill.” She grinned. “I’m not doing any extra sessions.”
He chuckled and set the towel on the table. “You don’t work on the weekends, do you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“You haven’t lived here long, and I know you have Brett and probably friends on the team, but there's this concert Saturday—Delia Melise. Small venue. She writes all her own stuff. A bunch of us are going, and I thought you might be interested.”
Penny considered the invitation. First, she was impressed that Jordan valued artists who wrote their own music. Second, besides her Snowballs friend group, he was the first person to invite her out to something since moving here. And third, she hadn’t been to a concert all summer, and with Brett away for the weekend, she didn’t have any plans. She tapped her fingers on her arm. “I have a few lacrosse games I’m contracted to be at—”
“The concert doesn’t start till eight.”
She nodded. “Can you send me the details?”
“I’ll text it to you. Even if you come late, it’s a small place.”
Penny thanked him for the invite as her next patient walked up the drive.
The afternoon sun streamed in through the open garage door, casting long shadows on the polished concrete floor as she worked.
"Alright, one more set of shoulder presses. Make sure you keep that elbow straight. I think you have one more set in you . . .”
