“Six months,” I said, moving my shoulder slowly. I wouldn’t be lifting anyone against any walls tonight. Not the way it was feeling now. “Look, doc, you don’t have to sugarcoat with me. I know this is a waste of my time.”
“Physical therapy is never a waste of time,” he argued, not looking up from his computer. “Especially not for athletes.”
“I’m not an athlete anymore.”
“But what if you could be?” he asked as he clicked the mouse again and papers printed. “Would you want to be?”
There it was. That motherfucking hope I’d sworn to never feel in this room. “Are you saying…?”
“That you could be?” he asked slowly, finally looking at me again.
“Yes. That I could be.”
“I’m not sure, and it’s too soon to tell.” He stood and walked to the printer. “You asked me not to sugarcoat it, so I won’t. You should have come here six months ago.”
I thought back to the mental mind-frame I was in six months ago, and shook my head. Then there was the three months my father locked me up in rehab, citing that I’d become addicted to pain pills as his reasoning. I hadn’t. He just hadn’t known what to do with me when I refused to get out of bed or go to class. “Not possible.”
“Nonetheless, true.” He sat down again, stapling a packet of papers. “With some hardcore dedication on your part, and two sessions a week with me, we might be able to restore your shoulder to eighty percent of its original functionality. With a little bit of luck? Maybe more.”
“Eighty percent,” I said, my voice thick.
“Maybe more.”
“Eighty percent won’t get me back in the game.” I stood, that little bit of hope I’d felt crashing back to the floor where it damn well belonged. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Sit down,” the doctor ordered.
Without thought, I obeyed.
“You’re in pain.”
More than you know.
“Do you want to feel this pain for the rest of your life?”
I might not want to, but I probably deserved to. It was my daily reminder of Joey and all he’d lost when I’d chased after him. “Doc…”
“Don’t ‘doc’ me. You came here for help. You’re way too young to give up on yourself before you’ve even fought your way back from rock bottom.” He pointed at me. “No sugarcoating, right?”
I swallowed hard. “Right.”
“Wear your shoulder brace when it hurts. Don’t ignore the signs your body is giving you. If it hurts, put the damn brace on.”
I knew why Taylor had picked this guy. She must have found out he liked to yell at his patients just like she did, because I’d heard that phrase come out of her mouth more times in the last couple of months than I could count. “Yes, sir.”
He stood and slapped the papers in my lap. “Do these exercises exactly as they’re described, twice a day, every day, without fail. If you do that, and come to see me twice a week, I promise you I’ll do my best to get you back in the game. If I can’t accomplish that, I can at least reduce your pain, and that’s something, too, isn’t it?”
It might be something, but if I wasn’t on a field, I’d never stop hurting again. It might sound melodramatic, but what the fuck ever. Football was my life. My passion. A life without it was like a life without a beating heart. It just didn’t work.
“Yeah, thanks.”
The doctor sighed. “Son—”
“I’m not your son,” I said automatically.
I had a father, and he called me that, and one was enough, thank you.
“Chase.”
I cocked a brow, picking the papers up off my thigh. “Yes?”
“Don’t give up. If you’re not fighting to get better with everything you’ve got, you won’t get better. End of story.” He crossed his arms. “You have to want it. Need it.”
I did want it. I did need it. So, I straightened my shoulders, glanced at the papers, and nodded. “I do, sir.”
“Good. Then the fight starts today.” He opened the door and smiled at me. “Don’t forget your stretches tonight, and I’ll see you back here in two days. It’s going to hurt, so don’t be surprised. Just take ibuprofen and make sure you rest it when needed. And don’t forget to wear—”
“My brace.” I forced a smile. “Got it, doc.”
“Good.” He tipped his head. “Now get out of here.”
I laughed. “I like you.”
“I like you, too.”
Still grinning, I went to the front desk and paid my copay, scheduled my next appointment, and then walked outside while shooting Taylor a quick text.
As soon as the sun hit my head, my phone vibrated, and I smiled, expecting it to be Taylor. She’d wanted to come with me, but I hadn’t let her. I’d told her it was something I had to do on my own…something she was very adamant I do. Be alone. I’d rather be with her, but if it made her happy, then so be it.
But it wasn’t her.
It was the Antichrist.
Frowning, I swiped right and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello, Father.”
“What did I just get charged for?” he barked into the phone. “What doctor prescribed you something? It’s clearly marked in your file that you’re an addict—”
I sighed. “I’m not a drug addict, Father. Never have been.”
“Tell that to your doctors,” he shot back.
I had. They’d even told him I wasn’t. He hadn’t listened.
He’d insisted I was a drug addict and that my addiction was the reason I wasn’t getting out of bed in the morning. They’d told him it wasn’t addiction, but rather depression, and he’d laughed.
Fucking laughed.
It wasn’t until they put me on antidepressants against his will that I’d started to feel like I could face the world, and it wasn’t until he sent Taylor to Villanova as my tutor that I’d actually started doing so.
So that stint in rehab had given me that, at least.
The will to fight my father.
“The only medication I’m on is my antidepressants, which you already know about.” I stared down at my papers. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to put the Maxwell name to shame. I went to see a doctor about my shoulder.”
He groaned. “If that doctor prescribed you pain medication, I’ll sue him so fast he won’t know what—”
“I didn’t get pain meds,” I gritted out. “It’s a physical therapist. He’s going to try to fix my shoulder as best as he can.”
Father fell silent. “You went to see a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“Willingly?” he said, surprise in his voice.
“Yes, my friend asked me to,” I said, loving the way he was going to react to my next sentence. I knew my father like I knew the back of my hand, and he wouldn’t like this. “Oh, that’s right, I didn’t tell you. Guess who is going to Villanova now?”
Dad was silent, then, “Who?”
“Taylor. We ran into one another in class, picked up where we left off all those years ago, and I have to say, I’ve been happy.”
Father spluttered. “Happy?”
“Yep,” I chirped as I unlocked my car. “I missed her, but I guess I didn’t realize how much until she was here, at the same school as me.”
“I—”
Remembering my father had sent her here on a mission, and not wanting to fuck up her sweet deal, I quickly added, “Oh, and she’s been helping me with my studying. Ever since she came here, my grades have been up. I’m actually passing, so that should make you happy, too. But, hey, I have to go. Talk later?”
He choked on a word.
What word, I had no idea, because I hung up on him, leaving him to chew on that for a while. He deserved to be miserable knowing I was happy.
As I slid into my car seat, I checked my phone.
Taylor hadn’t texted me back yet.
Frowning, I dialed her.
She picked up on the first ring.
“How’d it go?”
“Great,” I said, sliding my key into the ignition. “Why didn’t you text me back?”
She sighed. “I broke the screen on my phone after Economics. It makes texting too hard, so I stopped trying.”
“Go get another one,” I said quickly.
“I can’t. Not everyone has seven hundred dollars lying around in their accounts.” She laughed, but it was forced. “I’ll be fine. I just won’t be texting much, is all.”
That wouldn’t do at all.
I needed to text her.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it.
It was my father again.
I rejected it without hesitation.
Turning the key in the ignition, I said, “Hey, can I pick you up in forty-five minutes? I want to go out to eat, and I’ll tell you all about my appointment in excruciating detail and answer any questions you might have.”
Knowing my Taylor, she’d have a lot.
She chuckled. “You’ve got yourself a date. And then after—”
“Kissing?”
She sighed. “Homework.”
“And then…?”
Silence, then: “Kissing.”
Grinning, I backed out of my spot. “See you soon.”
Chapter Eleven
Taylor
Chase Maxwell was ridiculous.
And ridiculously hot.
Every time I spoke to him, or touched him, or he made a corny joke, I fell for him a little bit more. If I wasn’t careful, by the time we were finished, there would be nothing left of me when he walked away. And he would, inevitably, walk away.
There was no doubt in my mind about that.
For now, I was going to enjoy having him at my side and do my best to not worry about what came next. I was going to live in the moment, with the boy I’d had a crush on for my whole frigging life at my side, and that was that. I paced in front of my dorm, watching for Chase’s car. He’d said forty-five minutes, and it was pushing an hour.
Maybe he was walking away already. Maybe he got good news at the doctor and was ready to move on. Shaking my head at myself, I sensed someone coming up behind me. Hoping it was Chase, I spun, but it wasn’t. It was a girl I vaguely recognized from my Economics class.
She walked right up to me, clearly intending to talk, so I forced a smile. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She smiled back. “You’re Taylor, right?”
“Yeah.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, glancing over my shoulder. Still no sign of Chase. “You’re in Economics, right?”
She nodded. “Yes. With Chase.”
“Yeah.”
She bit her lip. “I know you don’t know me, but…”
“Yeah?” I asked after she faded off.
“I was wondering if you’d like to be friends,” she blurted out.
I blinked at her.
“That sounded weird.” She laughed nervously, flicking her brown hair over her shoulder. “It’s just, you seem nice, and you’re one of the only people who seems to be able to give Chase a second chance, and I like that about you.”
I swallowed. “Uh, thanks?”
“I mean it. Chase was—is—a nice guy. Everyone deciding to hate him was kind of ridiculous. I mean, we don’t know what happened that night. Only he does.”
Nodding, I looked for him again. “Do you know him? Are you friends with him?”
“I was, once,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing. “We were more than friends, actually. I cheer for the team, and we were a couple, back when it happened.”
“Oh. Oh.” Everything about her screamed of Chase’s type. Her slim frame. Her big breasts. The name brand clothing she wore. Her long hair. Her perfect face. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Totally his type. “Look, I don’t know what—”
“I know you’re with him, and I’m not trying to win him back,” she said quickly. “I lost that chance when I didn’t stand by him like I should have. That’s on me.”
Anger swelled in the pit of my stomach. “You broke up with him after the accident?”
“No, he broke it off with me.” She bit her lip again. “But I let him. I didn’t fight for us. That’s my fault, not his. He was in a dark place.”
He still was, but little by little he was coming into the light. I would like to think I had a big part in that, but to be honest, it was all him. He’d made the choice to come back into the real world, and that was the only way he could heal.
If he wanted to.
“My name’s Amanda.”
I stared at her, hesitating, because she was just so pretty. But I was never the type to dismiss someone out of jealousy, and I wasn’t about to start now because of a boy.
“I’m having a party Friday night. You should come—and bring Chase.”
I lifted my brows. “Will the football team be there?”
“Yes, but don’t let that stop you, or him.” She smiled. “It’s time to show them they don’t run the school, right? What better way than to ignore them and piss them off?”
I laughed. “I like the sound of that.”
“Honestly, though, this hatred of him has gone on long enough. He needs to show them he doesn’t care what they think about him, and he shouldn’t.” She shrugged. “If he did something wrong, he would have been arrested, right?”
I nodded once. “Right.”
“He’s lucky to have you,” she said, a wistful tone to her voice.
To be honest, I really wanted to dislike her, to not trust her, but it was kind of impossible to do when her sincerity was written clearly all over her face. Regret was there, too. I had no doubt in my mind that she still had a thing for Chase, and I wished I could hate her for that, but Chase wasn’t the kind of guy you just got over. He was like one of those worms that burrowed its way into your digestive system. Once he was there, it was next to impossible to get rid of him.
“Why did he break up with you?” I asked quietly.
She smiled sadly. “He said being with him would only drag me down, and he didn’t want to ruin my social reputation, or my life. He said a girl like me, one who was pure and shiny, shouldn’t be with a tarnished guy like him.”
I tried not to let that bother me, I really did.
“You still care about him,” I said.
It wasn’t a question.
“As a friend, sure. I always will.”
Yeah. I knew that feeling all too well.
“But I meant what I said. You seem like a pretty cool person.” She smiled again. “The kind of girl Chase needs by his side right now.”
I tried to smile. “Thanks.”
“Let me give you my number,” she said, perking up again.
I pulled my phone out, and she texted me with her name. Soon she was on her way again, hair swinging perkily with each step she took toward the dining hall.
When my phone started vibrating, I glanced down at it. The screen was cracked really bad, but I could make out enough to know it wasn’t Chase.
It was his father.
Grreeaat.
Wincing, I answered. “Hello?”
“What the hell are you up to? I hired you to make my son pass college, not to have you hanging all over him,” he snarled.
I looked at the phone then put it back to my ear. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Are you seducing my son instead of tutoring him?” he asked angrily. “Because if you are, our deal is null and void, and you can clear your belongings out of that dorm I’m paying for, and go back to community college or wherever you were before I paid for your goddamn education.”
Stiffening, I tightened my grasp on my phone, dread settling into my stomach like a heavy anvil. He’d never told me if something happened between us that I’d lose my education, but I couldn’t fake surprise that he’d stoop so low. The man was an asshole. A rich asshole who pretty much owned the world, but an ass nonetheless. “Sir—”
“Are you in a relationship with my son?”
I had two options
here.
One: honesty.
Two: lies.
I knew which one I preferred, which one I lived my life by, but I also knew if I was honest, I’d be out of this school, and all my life’s dreams would die. It wasn’t that possibility that had me choosing the latter option, though.
It was the fact that if I left, Chase wouldn’t have me around.
While I didn’t think I was the reason he was changing, I did think my being here was having a good effect on his life, and if I left…what if that stopped?
What if he stopped chasing his dreams?
I couldn’t take that risk.
“No, sir. I just got close to him, thinking it would be easier for him to accept my help if I was at his side, instead of strictly tutoring him.” I swallowed hard, the lie choking me up. “I’m just playing a role, sir. His grades are up. His spirits are up even more. It’s working.”
He was silent. “It is?”
“Yes, sir.” I saw his car pull in the parking lot. “It means nothing. It’s not real. I’m just doing the job you sent me here to do, sir, and that’s it. When I’m done, I’ll be out of his life, and yours, and you’ll have your son back. I promise.”
“I better,” he warned. “I put a lot of money into this plan. Do not disappoint me. You won’t like the consequences.”
I stiffened. “Is that a threat?”
“Of course not,” he said, snorting. “But your parents are getting older. I’d hate to see them out of a job and a home before their time. They’ve been very loyal.”
Un-frigging-believable.
He’d actually gone there. Threatened my parents.
Chase was right to hate him. He was a monster with a big bank account.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asked into the silence.
“Oh yeah. I understand.” I swallowed. “But if I told Chase what you’re doing to me—”
“Then I’d be forced to take the same action, and your parents wouldn’t be happy with the outcome of said action.”
The Backup Plan Page 10
