by Maxene Novak
“Never?” Belle asked him, surprised.
“Nope. I’ve been to poetry readings and I’ve seen various Philharmonics perform. Went to a rap battle once. But I’ve never been to a legit rock concert.”
“Well we have to change that immediately,” Belle said firmly. “There’s nothing like a concert. It gets you high, it’s like soul sex with hundreds of people all at once. It’s incredible.”
The way she phrased that, with the lusty desire in her eyes, fanned the low-burning flame of Colt’s own desires. It set his mind on the long and winding road of sexual fantasies, then suddenly he remembered that it was his turn.
“Ah… never have I ever had a threesome,” he blurted out.
Tassie drank.
“Oh come on, nobody else? Dammit,” she said.
“What kind of threesome?” Belle asked with interest.
“Two girls and a guy. But it was research for a book, swear to god,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Suddenly, I think I want to be a novelist when I grow up,” Colt quipped.
Their laughter warmed him, and he relaxed. He looked at Belle expectantly.
“Let’s see… never have I ever smoked pot.”
Tassie, Ruger, and Colt all drank.
“Small town,” Colt explained with a shrug. “Not a whole lot for kids to do around here.”
“But you don’t care what you do when you’re high,” Tassie giggled. “As long as there are enough snacks. Oh, my turn again? Okay, um… never have I ever dated two people at once who didn’t know about each other.”
“So specific,” Colt commented as he drank.
All eyes were on him, and he realized that he was the only one who had taken a drink.
“Oh,” he laughed, embarrassed. “Years ago. I must have been, what, twenty-two? Yeah. Had a couple girls going at once, more because I was trying to fill my time than anything else.”
“Twenty-two… I would have been gone then. Weren’t you working and going to school?”
“Yep, worked two jobs, went to school, and had two girlfriends.”
“Did you ever sleep?” Belle asked, aghast.
“Not alone,” Colt told her with a wink.
She blushed fiercely, and it made his belly turn over. She was gorgeous in every expression, and it gave him a savage sort of pleasure to watch her squirm.
“Learn something new every day,” Ruger said quietly.
Colt glanced at his face, and saw something there he couldn’t identify. He felt a twinge of guilt, but couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t as if he’d cheated on Ruger. Ruger had been gone for a year by then.
“My turn, I guess,” Ruger said a little too brightly. “Let’s see, never have I ever thrown up on someone’s lap.”
Colt drank, as Ruger knew he would. Belle did, too. Tassie looked at them both with playful disgust.
“I don’t even want to hear those stories,” she said with a shudder. “Moving on. Colt?”
“Never have I ever… left everybody I knew behind to go find myself somewhere else.”
“That’s not fair!” Belle giggled.
But Colt wasn’t looking at her. He was watching Ruger, who drank.
The girls took their turns, but he barely paid attention. He and Ruger had started something, and he was invested.
“Never have I ever been ashamed to date who I liked,” Ruger said pointedly.
Colt’s face heated up, and he took a quick swig. “Never have I ever disappeared without warning and turned my phone off for two years,” he shot back.
“Oh really? Well never have I ever told somebody I loved them in private just to mock them for trying to hold my hand in public!” Ruger spat.
“Never have I ever skipped two people in a row and ruined the game,” Colt said ironically.
“This stopped being a game three turns ago. You have something you want to say to me, Colt, maybe you better just say it.”
Colt sighed and passed a hand over his face, forcing himself back under control. The two girls looked on in shock, eyes wide and mouths hanging open.
“I’m sorry,” he told them. “I should go.”
“No no no, sit down, shake hands, and move on,” Tassie ordered. “You two have been friends forever, obviously there are some issues. But this is a party, dammit, and you’re not going to ruin it for me. This is my last free night before I have to hole up in there and write a book, and I want to enjoy it with my crazy friends.” Tassie crossed her arms and her legs and glared at them.
Colt sighed. “I think everybody could use another beer. Ruger, you wanna help me get them?”
Ruger didn’t respond, but he got up and stalked into the kitchen. Colt followed, shooting apologetic glances at the girls.
“What the hell happened out there?” he asked as soon as he’d made it to the kitchen.
“You tell me, you started it,” Ruger said angrily.
“No, you did. When you made that vomit comment, you started it.”
“Using your friends’ experiences against them is how the game is played,” Ruger said, with less conviction.
“Sure, but that wasn’t I’ve never owned a motorcycle or some stupid shit. You are the only one who knows that story. You nearly outed me, and us, in the most embarrassing way possible, what the fuck was that about?”
“Tassie didn’t even want to hear the story,” Ruger pointed out.
“Sheer luck. Why did you put me in that position in the first place?”
“The position out there, or the one that made you throw up?” Ruger asked with a wicked grin.
“The one out there, you idiot,” Colt said, his voice colored with a hint of affection.
“Well…” Ruger shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of just wanted to see what you’d do, you know? There was a time you wouldn’t even have taken the drink. You’re at a point where you can at least admit that it happened, if not why.”
“So what, you just wanted to test the water and see if I’d grown since high school?”
“Something like that,” Ruger said vaguely.
“And you haven’t tried to find out for the last two years because…?”
“Because tonight was the first time I’ve really seen you with your defenses down since I got back.”
Colt opened his mouth to speak, but felt the wind punch out of his sails. “Can you really blame me?” he asked quietly.
“Of course I can. I can justify anything if I put my mind to it enough.” Ruger sighed and leaned against the counter. “I don’t blame you, though. I was an ass. I mean, you were too, but I should have handled it differently.”
“Yeah,” Colt agreed.
“Tassie’s going to yell at us if we let this ruin the night.”
“Yep.”
“Truce?”
“Truce.”
They shook on it, and Colt saw a reflection of his inner turmoil in Ruger’s eyes. Maybe there was room for hope after all.
Chapter Six
Colt woke up late the next morning. He had a nagging feeling that there was something that he was supposed to do, but couldn’t put his finger on it. It was Saturday, he knew that much. No classes to teach, no personal training sessions, no massages scheduled… what was he missing? He figured it couldn’t be too important if he couldn’t remember. He made it all the way through his shower and half a pot of coffee before realization dawned on him.
“Shit! Belle!” He smacked himself in the forehead and checked the time.
He’d told Belle the night before that he’d be over at around eleven to go over her medical records with her and set up a training plan to get her back on her feet. It was already after ten. Colt hurried through his breakfast and changed into more appropriate clothes; fuzzy cartoon character printed pajama pants were fine for kicking around the house on a Saturday, but they wouldn’t hold up too well if he wanted her to take him seriously.
He’d wanted to walk the mile to her house, but between the biting wind and th
e fact that he was already running late, he took the car instead. Old school rap blasted from the stereo as he turned the car on, and he switched the radio off irritably. His musical preferences varied wildly throughout the day, and what had amped him up enough to get him home the night before was too much to deal with first thing in the morning.
She was ready for him when he got there. She’d spread her MRIs and x-rays out on the table for him to look over.
“So these here,” she told him, “are from the accident. And then these are from after the surgery, and these are the last ones they took just before they released me from the hospital.”
The first images sent a shock through Colt’s system. He’d never seen an injury that severe, not even when he was in class. Her leg had been torn to shreds. Not just her leg, either; her entire left side, from ankle to ribs, was damaged. He examined the images taken after surgery. The surgeon had done a hell of a job. He was inclined to send the doctor a fan letter.
The images taken when she was released showed significant progress. Her body was skilled at healing, it appeared. She might actually make it through to the other side of this, if he did his job properly. He looked it over a second time, more slowly. He took in the details; how was this joint injured? Which muscles and tendons were affected? How would it impede her range of motion, and how would he combat that?
It had become a project for him, and he lost himself in the technical questions, forgetting that she was looking on with worry clearly defined on her face.
“Well there is significant damage,” he said finally. “But I’m sure if we stick to a routine we can get you mobile again.”
“Oh good,” Belle breathed. “What kind of routine?”
“First things first. Where’s your cane?”
Belle looked away and flushed, eyes shining in shame. “I, um… left it at home,” she admitted.
Colt sighed. Of course she had. Bringing it with her would have been admitting that she needed it, and she’d been running away from all of that.
“Alright, well first thing to do is replace it. How tall are you?”
“Five foot eight,” she told him.
“Alright. I’ll pick up a cane in your size. I don’t want you walking anywhere without it, not even to the bathroom. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
She looked ashamed. He understood her resistance; he’d seen it a hundred times before. When strong people break, the most difficult part of recovery was accepting new limitations. He’d have to make her see that she was still as strong as she ever was, that her strength came from her will, not her body. Maybe if he had her work with the geriatrics…yes. He’d start there.
“Good. Okay, next… I want to see you at the gym twice a week. I’ve got equipment there that will help, plus there’s a pool. Three days, I’ll work with you here. Two days of rest.”
“Five days of rehab every week?” Belle asked, going pale.
The fear in her voice caught his attention, and he shot her a quizzical look.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I just… I can hold up pretty well, but… I don’t know if I can take that much pain,” she said, tearing up.
She sounded so small, so afraid. He deliberately softened to her.
“There won’t be too much pain,” he said gently. “Discomfort, mostly. What were your sessions—the ones you went to in Des Moines—like?”
“Oh they were awful,” she gasped. “They’d push me to bend, and when it hurt, they pushed some more. And walking… they made me stand on it, put all my weight on it, and I couldn’t and they got frustrated. I just… couldn’t bear it, not every day.”
Fury bubbled in Colt’s gut. He couldn’t stand big business physical therapy; half the time, they did more harm than good, both physically and psychologically. He’d spent a good quarter of his career cleaning up their messes.
“Listen, love. Whoever you were working with didn’t know what the hell they were doing, or they’d been at it too long to care. Trust me, okay? We aren’t going to push you farther than you can go. You’re going to set the pace here. This is all about you. Got it?”
“Got it,” she said through her tears.
He patted her undamaged knee gently. “There we go. If you can trust me… if you can trust yourself… we can get you back on your feet again.”
“Um… how much… I mean, I know it’s important and everything, but how much is it going to cost?” she asked, wringing her hands.
“You have insurance, right?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Okay, I’ll work with them. It shouldn’t be too much for you out of pocket, and I’ll cut you a break since it’s going to be a long-term sort of deal. Do you have any kind of income?”
“Yeah, I’m on temporary disability.”
“Beautiful. I won’t break your bank, I promise. Ruger and I account for most of your bills right now, and we’ll work it out.” Colt blew out a breath and picked up the MRI images again, just to give himself something to do. “The class I want you to take at the gym is at eleven in the morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Think you can fit that in?”
Belle shrugged. “Nothing better to do. What kind of class is it?”
“It’s a water class, so you’ll need a bathing suit. And we’ll have to figure a way to get you out of your brace and back into it without flashing your naughty bits to the world.”
Belle blushed, and he grinned at her.
“I, uh… I have a bikini that ties on the bottom. I think I can get out of the brace and back into it without flashing anybody,” she said shyly.
“That’s perfect,” he said enthusiastically. “And I’ll help you if you need it. The class itself actually begins at eleven fifteen, but I want you there early so I can evaluate you and stuff. That also gives us time to wrestle with your shell.”
“Do you….” Belle trailed off, then cleared her throat. “Do you think I’ll ever dance again?”
“That’s up to you,” Colt told her. “You and your body. For most people, I would say no. But you made exceptional progress in the six weeks you were at the hospital… it’s possible that you will be able to dance again. Depends on how well you heal, how dedicated you are to your exercises, how badly you want it, and how willing you are to be flexible on the definition of dancing.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, I’ve always been dedicated to practice. This is basically the same thing, isn’t it?”
“Sort of. But if you practice for eight hours a day without me here, I will personally tie you to the bed,” Colt threatened.
Belle blushed, sending a shock of embarrassment through Colt’s gut. He hadn’t meant for that to sound the way it had. She didn’t seem to mind, though. Colt cleared his throat.
“Now, there’s one final thing I wanted to talk to you about, on a professional level,” he said. “I find you extremely attractive. That’s not really acceptable in my line of work, so I wanted to let you know right out of the gate. If that makes you uncomfortable, I can get another trainer to step in and hire a massage therapist for you. I’m kind of a control freak about this stuff, so I’d like to keep an eye on your progress regardless, but if you don’t want me working with you intimately, we can find an alternative.”
“That was… the most clinical come-on I’ve ever received,” she said, laughing. “As long as you keep your hands and various parts focused on the task at hand while we’re working, I don’t see a problem. But, um… what’s your policy on dating your clients?”
“I generally don’t, at least not while they’re under my care. Once they graduate, though, it’s a whole ‘nother ball game. Why do you ask?”
“Because I find you extremely attractive as well,” she parroted shyly. “And I wouldn’t mind blurring the lines a little.”
“Well…” Colt cleared his throat and felt his face heat up. “Well then. Um… I think it would be best if we didn’t, at least not now. Let’s focus on getting you h
ealthy, then… you know… re-evaluate.”
“Okay,” she said.
There was an edge of disappointment and defensiveness in her voice. He wanted to soothe her, to assure her that he really was interested as soon as the time was right, but he couldn’t find a way to do that without opening up the possibilities again. It was important to him that they kept their physical relationship professional for the time being; sex had a way of clouding his mind, convincing him to make the training too easy, distracting him from the medicinal side of things. The look on her face nearly made him change his mind, but he stuck to his guns.
“It’s important,” he told her gently, “for your sake. You need the best physical therapist available right now, and the best physical therapist makes a shitty date. And vice versa. As your therapist, I can be mean to you when it’s necessary. I can make decisions that won’t make you completely happy. If I were dating you, I wouldn’t be able to do that cleanly.”
“I understand,” she said, and her voice told him she did. “I’m gonna blame hormones and move on, okay?”
“Alright,” he agreed with a little laugh. “I’m going to run out and get you that cane. Don’t move… unless you have to… till I get back.”
“Okay. Oh, Colt?”
“Yeah?”
“If it isn’t too much to ask, could you try to get one that doesn’t look too terribly medicinal?”
Colt grinned. “Purple fairy sparkles it is.”
“You think you’re joking, but I’d love it,” she laughed.
“I’ll see what I can do, dork. Back in a bit.”
Colt smiled all the way to his car and switched the radio on. He turned it to an oldies station and bounced in his seat when the first notes of an old pop song filled his car. He rolled down his window just a touch so everyone could enjoy the song with him and rolled slowly through the neighborhood. A few people shook their fists at him, one or two shouted things at him, but he ignored them, singing along at the top of his lungs.
“Oh daddy please you know you’re still number one!” he bellowed in baritone. “And girls, they wanna have fun!”
A bunch of middle schoolers in mid-snowball fight collapsed into giggles as he rolled past. He grinned at them. Today was a good day. Small town Saturdays put him in a goofy mood, and he intended to enjoy every last moment of it.
