After another meaningful look, Kent walked out, leaving us by ourselves. I continued the exercise I’d been doing, shooting furtive glances at Heath every now and then. He was walking a course Kent had set out, navigating between cones to test his balance. He was sweating, his jaw set tight.
“If it hurts too much, you should stop,” I said before I could think better of it.
He didn’t look at me. “It’s fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look like you’re in pain.”
He stopped for a moment, panting as he met my eyes. “It’s more like a discomfort, and you know as well as I do that it’s par for the course. No pain, no gain, right? That should sound familiar to you.”
It did, and yet I hesitated. “It’s okay to take it easy for a day.”
“Says the man who’s never taken it easy in his life.”
I took a few careful steps toward him. “Maybe that’s why I have the right to tell you when to call it quits. I know how hard it is to do that.”
He froze, staring at me as if I’d turned into an alien. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“That’s a first.”
I dragged a hand through my hair. “Trust me, I’m as surprised about it as you are.”
His expression softened, and then he let out a long sigh. “It’s been hurting a lot more lately.”
“Lately, as in the last few days?”
He turned his gaze away from me. “More like the last two weeks.”
“Heath…”
He looked up with a sharp move. “You never call me by my name.”
Fuck, he was right. Somehow, he’d become Heath instead of Point Break. “Don’t overdo it. You know the risks if you do.”
Defeated, he lowered himself to the floor, then bowed his head. “Yeah.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I hobbled over and sat next to him. “Setbacks are frustrating.”
He shot me a sad excuse for a smile. I liked it when he smiled. I hated it too, but it made him look… Never mind. It didn’t matter how it made him look.
“I need to start recording this conversation, or I’ll never believe you’re capable of saying nice things.”
I didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, I watched as Heath methodically removed his prosthesis. His stump was red, irritated. “You’re?—”
“I know.” he interrupted me, shooting me a sharp look. “No need to point out the obvious, Sergeant Grumpy.”
I held up my hands. “Again, just trying to help.”
“Don’t. It’s throwing me off-balance.”
“Me being nice to you is throwing you off-balance?”
He attempted another smile, but it never reached his eyes. Still, I liked the way it curved his lips. He had very full lips. “Just like me not being my sunshiny self is unsettling to you.”
He wasn’t lying about that. As much as he annoyed me, I could handle the obnoxiously happy-clappy Heath, the one who was constantly teasing me and riding my ass, engaging in some friendly—or not-so-friendly—competition.
But this man? This sad, down, hurting man? He didn’t annoy me. No, he unnerved me. Like something fundamental had shifted, disturbing the balance in my universe. Had to be that routine thing again. As irritating as he had been, his behavior had been a constant, something predictable that I knew how to deal with. I had no clue how to handle him in this state.
