It takes a moment for her to understand what I’m saying, but when she does get my meaning she breaks into a fit of giggles.
“Sorry.” She laughs, shoulders shaking as she rubs her hands on her yoga pants to warm them up. I watch mesmerized as her hands move up and down her long, strong thighs. I picture my hands making that same journey, but slower, and with no barrier between us. Just skin to skin.
“Alright.” She presses her slightly warmer palms to my calf again. “Better?”
Thanks to the semi I’m pretending isn’t there, much worse. “Yes,” I grunt.
Her lips twitch, mischief lighting her expression. “I didn’t think a big, strong man like you would be so temperature sensitive. Should I turn up the thermostat? Or maybe fetch you a shawl?” She leans in closer, voice dancing with amusement. “Would you like me to knit you a pair of slippers for your next session?”
“You knit?”
“I do.” She presses a fingertip into the side of my calf, right at a tender spot, and I flinch. Her eyes lift to mine, wide and playful. “Does that surprise you?”
“No.” My voice is flat, but only because if I let anything else slip out, I might give away how much her gentle prodding actually hurts.
“I’m not very good at it,” she admits, lowering her voice like she’s sharing some great secret. Her lips curve and I can’t stop staring at them.
“That doesn’t surprise me either.”
Her laughter bursts free, bright and unrestrained, tumbling through the room. She tips her chin slightly, eyesshining as if she’s waiting for me to keep the joke going. But I can’t. I’m too busy watching her.
Of all the little sounds I’ve come to recognize in the short time I’ve known her—her quick gasp when she gets an idea, the low hum of concentration when she’s working, the breathy sigh she doesn’t even realize escapes her when she stretches—this laugh is my favourite. It fills the space around us, warming something inside me I didn’t think could ever thaw.
I want to be the reason she makes that sound again and again.
“Okay, funny guy. Pop quiz time. Honest answers only.” She looks like she’s about to make me pinky swear.
“Shoot.”
“How do you feel the week went? Following your plan, that is.”
I sit up straighter on the table. “I think it went well. I was pretty sore for a couple days at the start of the week, but the pain eased as the week went on and I kept doing the exercises.”
“Was the plan easy enough to follow? I think it’s fairly balanced, but we can make adjustments based on your needs.”
I shake my head. “Honestly, I worked the exercises into my morning routine. Did as many as I could while I waited for the coffee to brew and finished the rest while I was drinking said coffee.”
Elliot beams at me. “That’s a really effective way to establish a habit,” she says excitedly with a little wave of her hands. “Pair the task you want to complete with one you already do everyday.”
“I almost hate to admit how easy it’s been.”
Her face tilts to the side in concern. “Why’s that?”
My sigh is deep as I stare at my hands in my lap. “I could have been doing these for years. For a decade. If I’d taken careof myself, if I’d listened to the health professionals that were trying to help me, where would I be today? I know I wouldn’t have recovered fully, but I’d be in a helluva lot better shape than I am now.”
I’d been so bitter after my injury. Angry at the world and everyone in it. I pushed away anyone within arm’s length, not because I wanted them to go but because I was afraid of what they’d see if I let them stay.
The cool hand sliding into mine startles me, but I don’t pull away.
“Everyone has things they regret. Things they wish they could do over given the chance. But that’s all they are. Regrets and wishes. And if we spend all our time focused on our past, we’re going to miss out on right now. And on our future.”
I lift my gaze to find those impossibly kind eyes staring at our hands. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks and I wonder what caused it. The vulnerable words she’s sharing with me? The nearness to one another? The contact?
I allow my eyes to drop to her mouth for one moment. Two. Then I force myself to swallow and look back. “That would be a shame.” I give her hand the lightest of squeezes.
“I think so.” Her voice is quieter now.
I wait for her to pull away. She doesn’t but neither do I.
