“It’s pretty tight now,” she said briskly massaging the area. “Rest it until the scan results come back, then we’ll reassess.”
She moved to the desk, scrolling on her tablet. The glow lit her face, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks.
“I’ve put together a rehab plan. It needs to be intense. Daily. Someone’s going to have to work with you every day for the next month.”
I pushed up on my elbows. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” Her brows knitted together as she set down her tablet on the countertop.
Fuck. My stomach dropped. That tone didn’t sound good.
“They’ve offered me a job. To go on tour with you. In America.”
I froze. “That so?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know you knew.”
I smirked despite myself. “Maybe.”
She held my gaze intently. “I’ve accepted.”
FUCK.
Relief flooded through me so hard I almost grabbed her and spun her around the room. Something hot and stupid and hopeful surged through me so fast it felt indecent.
Instead, I grinned so wide my face hurt. “Okay. So that means I get to take you to America with me?”
“It means I’m going with the team. To run things,” she said pointedly.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
She laughed, shaking her head, and it was the best sound I’d heard in weeks. But then her face softened into something serious. “Tyler, this is huge for me. Career-defining. So I need to keep things professional.”
Fuck, baby, this is huge for me, too. I need you. Not just your hands, not just your plan. You.If only she knew the half of it.
I forced a nod, swallowing back the truth. “I get it. Look, I liked hanging out with you the other night. I could use a friend like you, so if that’s what you want, fine. I’ll keep it professional. But please, at least let me be your friend.”
She smiled warmly at that. It was my undoing. “Okay.”
I tugged my hoodie over my head, my heart doing weird things in my rib cage. “Then I’ll look forward to working with you on the road.”
I slung my bag over my shoulder and hesitated at the door. “Hey…since we’re gonna be working together full-time, maybe you should give me your number?”
Her brows lifted and she paused. “Tyler…”
“For professional reasons,” I added quickly, hands raised in innocence. “Treatment schedules. Rehab check-ins. Totally above board.”
She narrowed her eyes but reached for my phone when I held it out. Her fingers brushed mine as she took it.
She tapped in the digits and handed it back without a word.
“Thanks, Doc,” I said, pocketing it with a grin I couldn’t hide. “Strictly professional. Promise.”
Her look said she didn’t believe me for a second. But I couldn’t show her she was right.
I walked out with the biggest smile on my face, her number burning in my pocket, her ‘yes’still swirling in my head. I’d promised to keep it professional. And I would.
At least until I changed her mind.
