She laughed once more, and the sound cut off as the video did. I slammed the lid of my laptop and carefully climbed to my feet. Foot. Shit, when was I going to stop doing that?
Bending over, I impressed myself with my balance as I grabbed my mat, phone, and computer, then hopped over to the stairs and dropped my ass to the tallest one I could reach. The climb was annoying as hell with my hands full, but having the yard was worth the pain.
It was progress, I told myself. All of it was progress. It was success, and it was failure. And I was doing better than I had been last week. I was moving forward, and eventually, life would start to feel like some version of normal again.
Maybe I’d go out with my friends.
Maybe I’d…date.
I blinked and saw Creek’s face and shook that image away. Best not to go there. I had a long history of falling for straight guys, and the last thing I needed was to add a straight guy who also hated me with every fiber of his being.
At least with Kaleo, he was willing to be patient because he liked me and wanted to be my friend. I got the feeling Creek would enjoy seeing me crash, burn, and turn to ash.
I wouldn’t let him get to me, I decided as I made it to my bathroom to shower. I promised Kent I’d play nice—and I would. But I wouldn’t do it at the expense of my dignity.
No matter what.
“Push, push, push,” Kent ordered.
I grunted softly as I obeyed, the burn in my thigh profound, but I was motivated by the smile on Kent’s face as he held my stump down with the heel of his palm. When his arm lifted higher, he let go and slapped me on the ass.
“Amazing!”
I laughed, swiping my hand down my face. “Yeah?”
“I’m genuinely impressed. Most guys don’t have that kind of muscle strength this early on.”
I puffed my chest out and sat up, trying and failing not to look over at Creek, who was scowling at the ground. He was standing between the parallel bars with a white-knuckled grip, but I didn’t think it was from the pain.
He waspissed.
I felt a small pulse of sympathy in my chest because I remembered what it was like to be where he was. Even a handful of weeks ago, I’d been starting to wonder if I’d ever be able to stand on my own again without wanting to fall over or pass out from the pain.
“You’ll get there, man,” I told him.
If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. “Did I ask you?”
I bit the inside of my cheek as I stood and hopped over to the chair where my leg was waiting. I could see the warning look Kent gave me, and a small part of me wanted to ask why the fuckCreek wasn’t getting the same lecture I was. He was being way more of an asshole than me.
“Alright,” Kent said, drawing my attention away from the impromptu staring contest. Creek jolted, then turned his attention back to the bars, and I tore my gaze away, looking around for my leg. Kent smirked and shook his head. “Today, I want to work on low endurance. Full weight-bearing, but we’re not adding anything extra.”
I sighed, but I also knew the steps. First, I had to be able to hold myself up. Then, I could start actually working out again. I grabbed my compression sock and rolled it on before snagging my leg up by the foot.
I’d opted for the titanium bar without the foam cover since I kind of liked the whole robot look. The orthotist had let me pick out one that was tinted red. “The kids are gonna be so bummed when I lose the crutches for good,” I told Kent. “They’ve named them Pedro and Pascal.”
Kent choked on a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“I wish I wasn’t,” I answered with a shrug. “I tried to call them Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, but they didn’t know who they were. I swear to god, no one can make me feel like an old man the way they can.”
I heard a soft snort, which turned into a cough, and I wasn’t about to look over, but I felt a bit of triumph surge through me. Did I actually get a reaction out of him that wasn’t him wanting to murder me where I sat?
Kent openly laughed. “Your job is so weird, man.”
I shrugged as I rolled the sleeve up along my thigh, then flexed my stump to make sure there wasn’t a lot of room for it to move. I was probably due for a socket adjustment since my stump was shrinking faster than was typical.
“They call my leg Mr. Roboto, which is wild. Like, I don’t understand half their references, but then they have the nerve to go bring back Styx?”
“You’re a fetus,” came a grumble from a few feet away.
