“If a seat belt had caused this injury, Dr. Kraft’s initial examination photos would have shown a long seatbelt shaped contusion along your scapula, but they don’t. What they did show was a size thirteen boot imprint, leading me to believe your injuries are the result of some sort of attack.”
I let out a low huff.
“It’s okay, Gio, you can be honest with me. The more I know about your injuries, the more I can help you.”
“Okay. Alright,” I said, throwing up my good arm in surrender. “You’re right. I lied. There was no car crash. I got jumped by three guys who wanted my wallet, and one of them stomped down so hard, my shoulder was dislocated.”
Waverly placed her hand on mine. “I’m so sorry, Gio. Have you spoken to a counselor about this? I can recommend some wonderful people if you don’t have a therapist.”
“Therapy?” I laughed. “You don’t know how hard my friend Katie out there had to work just toget me to come here and see you about my fucked-up shoulder. Let a shrink near my head? No way.”
“Your, ah, girlfriend is right. When we suffer injuries, it’s important to seek medical attention as soon as possible. All types of injuries.”
“Katie isn’t my girlfriend. In fact, her brother would probably try and kill me just for you thinking she is.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay, Fizzy. Let’s just talk about the shoulder.”
After a few minutes of moderately fucking painful range of motion tests, and lots of ticking on her computer terminal keyboard, Waverly delivered her verdict. “If you continue to rest the shoulder, and it continues to heal like it is, I think Dr. Kraft can keep his scalpel sheathed.”
“That’s the news I wanted to hear,” I said.
“However, there’s a catch. As soon as the tear is fully healed, I want you here twice a week until you’re functioning at one hundred percent. And I’m assuming we’re gonna have leg and hip issues to deal with by then as well,” she said, pointing to my casted leg.
Seeing Waverly twice a week wasn’t going to be a problem for me. In fact, the only fucking problem I could see was having to wait until my shoulder healed enough to see her again.
* * *
Waverly
“Do you have any questions for me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even as I helped him put on his shirt and hoodie again.
Giovanni Rossi was one of the best-looking men I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t stop my body’s reaction to him. He wore a black T-shirt, black hoodie, and dark grey sweatpants (I mean, come on, universe, why would you do that to a girl?). He’d cut the pant leg off at the knee to accommodate the cast, and I’d wanted slide my hand up from the bottom just to see what was underneath. When I helped him remove his shirt, even only seeing half of his torso, you couldn’t miss his perfectly formed chest and the veins popping out of his forearm were intoxicating. It had been a very long time since I’d felt anything like this, and it scared me a little.
And what the fuck was all that ‘girlfriend’ business? Good lord, could I have been more obvious? Hopefully he didn’t notice my low-key ask about his relationship status with the beautiful woman who brought him, because, let’s face it, I was a medical professional and would need to compartmentalize all of this if I was going to treat him.
Gio winced. “No, I’m good.”
I frowned. “Are you in pain?”
“I’m okay.”
I sighed. “Tough guy, huh?”
“I’ll take somethin’ when I get home.”
“How about we do something about it now?” I opened the refrigerator and pulled out an icepack. “Do you mind if I touch you?”
His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite decipher, and then he nodded.
“Let me know if this causes more pain and I’ll stop, okay?”
He nodded again and I slid the neck of his shirt aside, placing the icepack against his shoulder.
“Jesus,” he breathed out.
“Is that hurting?”
