It let me get back to Creek.
Heath
I love surprises. I can’t wait to kick your ass in PT today <3
Sergeant Grumpy :(
See you soon.
It was progress that me teasing him about being farther ahead didn’t piss him off and hate me all over again.
Normally, I showed up to PT early when Kent’s shift started with my session so we could have time to work on our bikes. We kept them in a shed in the far back parking lot, and we’d keep working there until one of the property managers kicked us out. For now, it was convenient, and I was hoping we could drag it out until I was finally back on my bike again.
But I was a few months from that—at least.
Today, though, I managed to get there with only fifteen minutes to spare. I’d spent all my free time thoroughly panicking in the shower, then in front of my closet, then in front of the mirror. I felt a little foolish since I was about to get sweaty and disgusting, not to mention Creek had seen me at some of my worst, but it felt important that I was seeing him.
I wanted to look good. I wanted to make sure Creek didn’t regret his decision because I really, really liked him. He was every fantasy I’d ever had about a man coming true. In my young college years, I used to sit and daydream about the hot jocks—that one of them would see me and suddenly realize he liked men.
That he wanted me. That he couldn’t keep his hands off me.
Of course, Creek wasn’t tripping over himself to get my pants down, but he wanted this, and I didn’t want to ruin it just because I sucked at love. So I fussed and fretted and changed my clothes six times before settling on sweats and putting nicer jeans and a polo in my duffel bag.
My hip was aching to the point that I wasn’t sure I was going to last the night, so I left my leg off and went with my crutches instead. I felt vulnerable like this, sort of naked, but not terrified the way I was with other people.
Creek would see me, and he might worry I was hurt. But he’d understand why sometimes the pain was just too much. He wouldn’t think I was weak or broken. He wouldn’t think I was missing pieces of myself, even if that was technically true.
My heart was pounding when I pulled into the back lot, and I found Kent out there pacing, staring at me with narrowed eyes. He was in his scrubs, which meant he’d changed out of his street clothes after he got tired of waiting, and I offered him an apologetic smile as I got my crutches out and headed his way.
His gaze moved down to the empty leg of my sweats, then back to my face. “Tell me you didn’t do something that’s gonna piss me off.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned against the hood of his car. “No, Mom. My stump is still shrinking, and I need to get my socket adjusted again.”
Kent made an impatient noise and made grabby hands for my leg. I passed it over, and he ducked around me, opening the back seat of his car to pull out a little toolbox. I’d get one of my own when I had my more permanent leg. I’d learn how to give myself a tune-up without having to call the prosthetist’s office all the time.
He knelt beside me and motioned for me to roll my pant leg up, so I yanked it until my stump was showing. “So, I know this didn’t make your ass blow me off,” he said, then put a wrench between his teeth as he slipped my stump into the socket.
I sighed and rubbed my hand down my face. “Uh. No.”
“Are you going to make me guess?” he asked. He began to work his magic, elongating the part that connected the socket to the titanium rod, and then he slapped my ass. “Stand up straight.”
I did as he asked.
“Tell me when your hip stops hurting.”
I closed my eyes and tested my balance from right to left until the ache faded enough. I still needed to get refitted, but at least I could do exercises today. “That’s great.”
He smiled up at me, then smacked my ass again before tightening everything back up. “Spill.”
I groaned and looked away. “It’s nothing.”
“Really. That boy-band man-bun you’ve got going on tells me it’s not nothing.”
My cheeks flushed hotly. I wanted nothing more than to tell Kent the truth. He was my physical therapist, but he was also one of my best friends, and I hated keeping this secret. But it wasn’t mine to tell. Creek might have come out to Nash, and he might have asked me on a date, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready to tell the world.
“Do I know him?” he pressed as he tossed his toolkit back into his car and locked it up. He motioned for me to follow him inside, so I leaned heavily on my crutches, my bag smacking my thigh as I limped inside and headed for the PT room.
“Um,” I said.
