Taylor shook her head. “It’s crazy to me that a world-renowned surgeon can declare you fit to play, yet no team will sign you.”
“The NFL is a different kind of beast. What makes sense in everyday life doesn’t necessarily fly when it comes to professional football.” Caution clouded his voice. “I’m mentally preparing myself just in case this doesn’t work out as planned. I know you don’t like to talk about failure, Taylor, but I have to be realistic.”
The compulsion to reject his words was automatic, but she stopped herself. He knew how the NFL worked better than she did. He’d told her once before that he could train as hard as possible, yet still fail to make it onto a team because of circumstances outside of their control. She would keep her objections to herself if this is what he needed to do in order to deal.
But she would also make damn sure he was as physically prepared as he could be. If he didn’t make a team, it wouldn’t be because she fell down on the job.
“I’ve been studying everything I can about what happened to your knee and developing a plan of attack that’s even more detailed than before,” Taylor said. “Those guys at that sports bar pissed me off. I hate, hate,hatethat you have to put up with that kind of bullshit, and I want to personally feed them crow when you run onto an NFL field next year.” She pointed to the legal pad on the table. “This is our new game plan.”
He reached for the pad, but she snatched it up before he could.
“Hold on. Let me check a couple of things first.” She started reading over the notes she’d written. After a minute or so, she looked up to find Jamar staring at her with a curious frown. “What?” she asked.
“Have you always done that? Mouthed your words?”
“Huh?”
“When you read? I noticed it at the restaurant the other day when you were looking over the menu. You were reading aloud—under your breath, but still aloud.”
Taylor’s defenses immediately went up. “So?”
“It’s just an observation.” He was quiet for a moment as he set the casserole dish on the coffee table. “Umm . . . Silas used to do the same thing. He said hearing the words spoken aloud helped him to comprehend them better than just reading the text.”
Well, that made sense to her. “I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Taylor said.
“It’s not a big deal. When we were in about the tenth grade, Silas was diagnosed with a learning disorder. It changed the way teachers—”
“We can go over your game plan later,” she said. She set the legal pad on the coffee table. “We need to get going. I booked us for an hour at this new CrossFit gym in the city. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”
Taylor could tell by his pensive expression that he wanted to say more. She stared into his eyes, imploring him to drop it.
After a moment, he nodded and, in a subdued voice, said, “I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes. I’ll follow in my SUV so that you don’t have to ride all the way back up here once we’re done.”
An hour later, Taylor’s biceps burned like liquid fire as she counted down the last five hammer curls before instructing Jamar to stop.
“Holy shit,” she said. “We’re both going to pay for this in the morning.”
She set the twenty-pound kettlebell back into the rack, then rubbed it down with a sanitizing wipe. She pulled a few more from the plastic container and did the same to the rest of the surfaces they’d touched during the high-intensity full-body circuit Jamar had just completed. This boutique CrossFit gym had been on her radar for a while now, but none of her previous clients had been willing to spend the money they charged to rent the space to nonmembers.
As much as she appreciated Jamar’s personal gym, getting the chance to work him out on the gymnastic rings, rope-climbing wall, and monkey-bar rig was worth putting on a public show. Not that there was anyone here to watch the performance.
She’d chosen this particular place because they offered an exclusivity option on certain days of the week. They had two hours to themselves, and Taylor was going to make the most of it. They would both be exhausted by the time they were done.
She continued wiping down the surfaces, observing Jamar out of the corner of her eye as he replaced the athletic tape around his wrists and ankles.
Taylor had always considered herself a forearm kinda girl. Well-defined forearms on a man were her kryptonite. But Jamar’s powerful, chiseled thighs made a convincing case for switching to the leg camp. Watching the way his inner thigh flexed as it peeked out of the hem of his shorts had her wanting to take a bite out of it.
You cannot bite your clients, Taylor Renee.
Maybe repeating those words in her mother’s voice would help curb the unholy thoughts ravaging her brain.
“Doubt it,” she murmured under her breath.
All it took was one simple kiss in the rain to fully embrace the idea of hooking up with her client. Not that there had been anything simple about that kiss, but did it warrant the constant ache it had set off in her pants? No!
Well, maybe.
After a week of pretending as if everything was normal, acting as if that kiss hadn’t changedeverything, Taylor was ready to climb the walls. Okay, fine. She was ready to climbhim. But she wouldn’t do either. She would be a professional and handle this like an adult. She and Jamar needed to air this out if she had any chance of surviving the remaining month with her sanity intact.
