by Rye Hart
“That’s great.” She smiled and moved to take my vitals. I fell silent while she took my blood pressure and temperature. She jotted a few things down on my chart and then turned toward me with a furrowed brow. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want the T.V. remote?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m fine right now.”
“Your physical therapist was doing the rounds earlier,” she said. “I’ll let her know you’re awake now.”
“Tara?” I asked, hope blooming in my chest.
The nurse nodded and smiled. She hurried from the room, and I felt my heart begin to race. I hadn’t expected to see Tara again so soon, but the prospect of seeing her face was enough to send waves of excitement coursing through my body.
It was another ten minutes before she arrived. In that time, I adjusted my position twelve times, trying to find the most comfortable position that would make me seem the least weak. I hated that Tara was seeing me this way: broken and bedridden. It wasn’t my proudest moment.
When she came into my room, I smiled and watched her walk toward me. She was wearing the same outfit from before. Her body looked even better today, now that my mind wasn’t clouded with pain. The seventeen-year-old I held in my memory couldn’t hold a candle to the woman standing before me.
Her body swayed just right with every step she took. Her curves had always been enticing, but now that she was older, they were more defined. She exuded confidence, and that alone was enough to make me hard beneath my hospital blankets. I swallowed and told myself to get it together. If I couldn’t control myself around Tara, this would never work.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked, her blue eyes searching my face.
“Better,” I said with a nod. “Last night was pretty fucking brutal, but today, I’m all right.”
“Did the pain keep you awake?” Tara asked, ready to take notes on her chart.
“Yeah,” I said. “Most of the night.”
“What did they give you?” Tara asked, frowning and looking down at my chart.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Whatever it was, it worked.”
“Good.” She nodded and looked back at me. Her eyes roamed over my face and then down my body. I felt myself flush as she looked me over. I knew she was just visually assessing me, but it felt like more. My dick twitched, and I shifted on the bed. “Mind if I take a look at your leg?”
“Sure.” I nodded, and Tara moved forward.
“Tell me if anything I do hurts, okay?” she asked.
“Got it.”
Tara lifted the bottom of my blanket. I felt a sense dread wash over me. What would she say if she saw my erection? Fuck, why couldn’t I get the damn thing under control?
Thankfully, Tara didn’t lift the blanket far enough for it to matter. She moved it off my leg and examined the surgical dressings. Gently, she ran her fingers down the length of it, pausing every so often to apply pressure.
Her hands were warm and felt electric against my skin. I trembled at her touch and prayed she didn’t notice. I stared at her face while she worked. God, she was beautiful. I’d spent ten years imagining her face, but seeing it in person was better than I ever dreamed it would be. I could have stared at her for hours.
Now that my pain was gone, I felt more like myself. As Tara gently massaged my leg, feeling around for any tenderness, I felt a rush of confidence rise inside my chest. She ran her finger up my thigh, stopping just before she reached the blanket covered part. When she glanced up at me, I grinned.
“Don’t stop there,” I said, my voice low and husky.
Tara’s eyes instantly hardened. She lifted her hand off my leg and glared at me, not bothering to hide her irritation.
“What?” I asked, laughing lightly. “I’m just saying what we’re both thinking.”
“I’m not thinking about your dick,” Tara said boldly.
“You weren’t?” I raised my eyebrows. “Not even a little bit.”
“Did you feel any pain, Caleb?” Tara asked, sighing deeply and rolling her eyes.
“Only when you rejected my offer,” I said playfully.
“This little game you’re playing right now?” Tara said. “It’s not going to work on me.”
“What game?” I asked innocently.
“We’ll start your PT as soon as you’re discharged,” Tara said, ignoring me. “Your leg seems to be healing just fine.”
“Tara,” I began, but she was already heading toward the door.
I sighed and leaned back against my pillow. She disappeared almost as quickly as she appeared and yet again, I was left thinking about nothing but her. Her face. Her body. That tight little ass of hers. Everything about her called out to me, and I knew she felt the same way whether she wanted to admit it or not.
As the day progressed, my pain returned with a vengeance. Dr. McGee ordered more painkillers, but they were a different kind. Instead of easing me into a relaxed sleep, they were designed to keep me awake, so I could ease myself through the pain as it slowly reduced. I soon felt better, but I wished I could close my eyes and forget about Tara for a little while.
I knew I ran her off with my comments, but I didn’t regret them. I did what I always do: spoke my mind. If Tara ran away from me, it was only because she knew I was right. After all these years, there was still a spark between us, and damn if I wasn’t about to set it ablaze.
CHAPTER SIX - TARA
Yet another headache hit me on Tuesday morning. I woke up and immediately rushed to the bathroom, in so much pain that I heaved into the toilet before I even had a chance to eat breakfast. My day wasn’t going to be fun, so I called work, asking Joan to cover my sessions and look in on my patients. She agreed with an eagerness I knew had everything to do with Caleb. It annoyed me, but the pain in my head left me unable to focus on anything.
I spent the day in bed, not eating and leaving the blinds closed. When I wasn’t asleep, I was holding my temples and trying to breathe through the pain. These headaches were only getting worse, and there wasn’t anything I could do to ease them. I needed to make an appointment, but between work and the sudden arrival of Caleb back in my life, I hadn’t been able to find the time.
The next day, I felt better. My headache was gone, leaving me exhausted but ready for the day. I showered slowly, taking my time getting dressed and eating a light breakfast. The last thing I needed was to make myself sick again. I hadn’t yet figured out what was causing my headaches, so I didn’t know how to prevent them. I simply tried to move gingerly and protect myself from yet another debilitating attack.
“Good morning!” Joan chimed when I walked through the door. I sat behind my desk and tried to smile at her. “You feeling better?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Just a little weak.”
“Food poisoning?” Joan asked.
I shook my head. “Anything happen yesterday?”
“No.” Joan shrugged. “Typical day. Nothing exciting.”
“Did you check in on Caleb Lewis?”
Immediately, Joan’s face lit up. I tried to bite back my annoyance, but I knew I couldn’t keep it down for long.
“Oh, I checked on him,” Joan said. “A few times.”
“Joan,” I said, a warning in my voice.
“Relax,” Joan said. “I treated him like every other patient.”
“I’m sure.” I sighed.
“I’m happy to handle his sessions,” Joan said quickly. “I know how busy you are.”
“I can do it,” I snapped.
Joan nodded and went back to work. I calmed myself as I realized Joan’s offer might not have been such a bad idea. After Caleb’s comment on Monday, putting some distance between us might have been smart. Still, the idea of Joan hitting on Caleb while stretching out his leg was enough to make me nauseous again.
After my morning sessions were complete, I grabbed my clipboard and went into the main hospital to make my rounds, reassessing the patients who needed it and disch
arging the ones who were done with me. Though I mostly saw the patients when they had been released from the hospital, I took a handful of inpatient cases as well to keep all my clinical skills up. I hit every single one of my other patients before I ventured toward Caleb’s room. I wasn’t ready to see him again, not after the things he said to me on Monday.
Just thinking about our last conversation filled me with a renewed sense of rage. Who the hell did he think he was? Hitting on me after all these years? I was merely doing my fucking job when he insinuated I wanted to screw him. It was repulsive and not at all true, right?
I had to shake myself as I remembered my dream. I’d been fantasizing about Caleb on and off since I was a teenager, but that dream felt more real than anything else ever had. I could practically feel him inside me. When I woke up, I was so shaken that it stayed with me for hours afterward. Then, when Caleb looked at me that way on Monday, I felt my panties flood with a desire I’d been trying to repress.
I didn’t want to feel this way. I hated my body for betraying me. I couldn’t be around Caleb without wanting to strip down and ride him until we were both exhausted and covered in sweat. It was primal, instinctual, animalistic. But it could never happen.
My heart still ached when I thought about what he did to me. He abandoned me when I thought he was the only man I would ever love. Our connection was instant, and it hadn’t yet faded. Just seeing his face was enough to remind me of the way we once felt. Still, I knew I had to fight it. The best way to do that was to push through and do my job. So, with determination in my gut and a professional smile on my face, I pushed Caleb’s door open and stepped inside.
He was sitting up in his bed and looked even better than yesterday. His complexion was returning to normal, and his stubble was even darker today. I swallowed hard and pushed forward.
“Tara,” he said, sounding surprised to see me.
“How are you feeling today?” I asked.
“Fine,” he said with a nod. “Pain is better.”
“That’s great.” I nodded and pulled up a chair. “It looks like you’ll be discharged soon, which means you can start physical therapy.”
Caleb nodded. “What do you have in store for me?”
“Well,” I began, glancing down at my chart. “As I said before, we’ll start you on some mild stretches a few times a week. Nothing too strenuous because we don’t want to risk re-injuring that leg. The scar tissue can be substantial and extremely problematic. If we don’t do things the right way, you may never get your full range of motion back.”
“I’ll do whatever you say,” Caleb said, his voice serious. “I want to get back on the job as soon as possible.”
The determination in his voice softened my resolve to remain professional. Caleb’s strength had always been his most attractive quality. It drew me to him and turned me on. Our eyes met, and I felt like that same young girl who was laying eyes on this boy for the first time.
“Will you still be the one taking care of my therapy?” Caleb asked.
I blinked. Joan’s offer echoed in my mind, and I paused. It wasn’t such a bad idea to think about someone else handling his treatment. If I couldn’t even sit beside him without feeling a flush of desire grace my cheeks, how the hell was I supposed to deal with weeks of touching him?
“I’ll probably hand your case off to a colleague,” I said, keeping the emotion out of my voice.
“Tara,” Caleb said. “I’m sorry about the other day, okay? What I said. I was an ass.”
“Yeah, you were,” I said bluntly.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t work together,” Caleb said quickly. “You’re great at your job.”
“How would you know?” I scoffed. “You didn’t even know I was a physical therapist until a few days ago.”
“My mom keeps me pretty well informed,” Caleb said.
“You seemed surprised to see me,” I said, confused. “If you knew, why were you so shocked?”
“Are you kidding?” Caleb laughed. “We hadn’t seen each other in ten years, Tara. Of course I was fucking surprised. I thought you hated my guts.”
I chose to ignore that. “Well, I don’t know,” I said. “Joan is a really great therapist.”
“Joan?” Caleb asked. “That flighty little brunette who was in here yesterday? Dear God, don’t leave me with her. She’s an idiot.”
“She’s actually brilliant,” I said.
“Then she should act like it instead of throwing her tits in her patient’s face,” Caleb said.
Anger welled inside my chest, but I fought it back. My eyes found Caleb’s again, and I sighed. He was right. There was no way I could leave all his sessions to Joan, but I also couldn’t take them on entirely by myself.
“I guess I can make room in my schedule,” I said. “You’re so kind,” Caleb said sarcastically.
I glared at him, and he laughed. I smiled weakly, unable to resist. He reached his hand toward me, but I moved away. I wasn’t ready to touch him.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
His words hit my ears and made me forget how to breathe. I didn’t know how to respond, but thankfully, I didn’t have to. Cathy and my dad walked in the room and saved me from myself. I saw my dad shoot me a dirty look out of the corner of my eye while Cathy moved toward her son.
I filled them in on Caleb’s case and then made my exit, hurrying into the hallway with my father at my heels.
“This isn’t a good idea,” he said, his voice low and stern.
“What are you talking about?”
“You and Caleb,” he snapped. “This little flirtation you two have going on, it’s inappropriate, and there’s no place for it here.”
“I’m an adult, Dad,” I said. “There isn’t much you can say about the way I live my life anymore. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a physical therapist. This is my job. Caleb is my patient.”
“He doesn’t have to be,” Dad said. “Hand him off to someone else.”
“He doesn’t want that,” I said. “He asked for me.”
“Of course he did,” Dad said. “This isn’t right, Tara. You’re jeopardizing your career for Caleb.”
“He’s family, isn’t he?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “Aren’t we supposed to take care of family?”
“It’s not appropriate,” Dad hissed again. “And not just because of your job.”
He stared into my eyes, anger boiling beneath the surface. I couldn’t stand his judgment for another second. Without a word, I spun on my heel and marched down the hall.
CHAPTER SEVEN - CALEB
Tara was there for most of my first therapy session. We were accompanied by another therapist who helped when needed, but Tara took the lead. It was hard at first, with her touching me and leaning into me while encouraging me to stretch further. All I could think about was how smooth her skin felt against my body. I had to force my dick to behave throughout the entire session, and by the end, I was a wreck of sexual tension.
My next session was easier, and Tara didn’t require any assistance to move my heavy limb. I was finally going home that night, which meant leaving the safety of the hospital behind for the first time since the fire. I was ready but also nervous. Part of me couldn’t wait to get to my own bed and truly relax. Still, I liked how often I got to see Tara. Once I left, our sessions would go down to only a few times a week.
While she stretched my sore leg and muttered words of encouragement, I watched Tara out of the corner of my eye. Her eyebrows were pulled together in concentration. I tried to focus on my therapy, but it was impossible with her touching me all the damn time. I wondered how she could do it and not lose her cool.
“I think that’s good for today,” she said. “I want to get you on a pair of crutches. You can use them when you feel strong enough but don’t force it. If you’re tired, sit down and rest.”
“I can handle it,” I said.
“Don’t be stupid,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “D
o you want to fall? ’Cause I can promise you that won’t feel too good.”
I held up my hands in mock surrender, trying not to show how turned on I was by her bossiness. “Okay, okay. Whatever you think is best. You’re the professional.”
She stalked over to the supply closet and grabbed a set of crutches, bringing them over to the large mat table I was sitting on. “Here you go,” she said, handing me the crutches. “Give these a try.”
With a heave, I got to my feet and tried to take a small step forward, tucking the crutches under my arms. I stumbled, and Tara caught me, steadying me quickly.
“It’s all right,” she said. “You’ll get there. Just try again.”
“I got it.” I snapped, yanking my arm away from Tara’s grasp. It was killing me to be so weak in front of her. I stumbled again, but she left me alone. It took a few tries, but I eventually got the hang of it.
“See, I’m a pro now,” I said, trying to flex for her benefit. Tara rolled her eyes and gestured for me to sit down. I did as I was told just as my mom walked through the door. She smiled and hurried over to us, pulling up a chair beside mine.
“What are you doing here?” I asked with a frown.
“I’m taking you home,” she said. “I got the afternoon off, so I can get you settled in.”
“You don’t need to babysit me.”
“Yes, she does.” Tara snapped. “Without help, you aren’t getting discharged today.”
I glared at her but knew she was right. I needed to get the hell out of this hospital, even if it meant I wouldn’t see her again for a few days.
“Let’s talk about your at-home treatment,” Tara said. She held out the papers to me, and we went through everything point by point. “I’ll stop by later tonight to make sure everything is set. If that’s all right?”
“Sure,” I said, nodding. It was more than okay.
“Great,” Tara said. “Then, just sign this, and you can go.”
I scribbled on the page and then let my mom help me to my feet. I used my crutches but I was so clumsy Mom asked if I needed a wheelchair. I ignored her and got myself to the parking lot without assistance.
