Working It Out (A Romantic Comedy)

by Rachael Anderson

  “You guys about ready?” The guide’s deep voice called out.

  Seth glanced at Garrett, who was strapping on his board, then at Owen. Side-by-side, his two friends looked ridiculous. Garrett sported neon orange from his helmet to his ski pants so he’d be easier to find if he got lost or caught in an avalanche, while Owen looked as though he’d raided various people’s closets for his ski apparel—which he had. He wore a red and white striped jacket, a royal-blue helmet, and some brown plaid snow pants. Not that Owen cared. He’d been saving for this trip for over two years and couldn’t afford new ski gear to go with it. Seth, knowing how chilly it was in the high mountains, refused to let him bring his old, worn-out ski jacket and holey pants. He’d insisted that Owen borrow one of his jackets. The plaid pants came from another friend.

  Seth gripped his poles and pushed his skis forward. “I’m ready.”

  “Remember what we talked about,” the guide said. “Stay behind me and don’t veer too far off course, or you may find yourself taking flight over the edge of a cliff. I know this mountain well so follow my lead.”

  “Is there any avalanche danger?” Garrett asked.

  The guide shook his head. “We tested up here yesterday. The snow is solid.”

  “Let’s get it on then!” Owen called out. “Time’s a-wasting!”

  The guide nodded and pushed himself forward, taking the slope head-on with large, smooth curves. Garrett headed out next, followed by Seth. A loud whoopee followed as Owen took up the rear.

  Seth grinned as he carved his way down the mountain, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with the wind rushing at him as he created fresh tracks through the powder. A ski resort could never compete with the freedom, the beauty, and the isolation of backcountry skiing—as Owen would soon realize.

  Seth let out a yelp of his own, allowing the thrill of it all to seep into his bones. He’d needed this trip.

  Ever since the auction two weeks earlier, Lanna had avoided his calls and texts, refusing to return his messages. She’d taken stubbornness to a whole new level, and if Seth hadn’t cared so much about her or their friendship, he would have washed his hands of her. But Lanna was the closest thing he had to a sister, and he didn’t want to lose that.

  Since he couldn’t force her to talk to him, Seth had packed his bags and jumped on the plane, more than ready to take a break from all things Lanna Carver. The next fourteen days would be all about release and the thrill of adventure. No worries, no cares—just him, his friends, and the majestic mountains of Alaska.

  The guide let out a whoop as he took a jump and executed an impressive forward flip, landing solidly on both skis. Garrett followed the guide, bringing his knees up to his chest in a high jump. Seth grinned and headed for the ramp, increasing his speed and launching himself in the air. Without much thought, he twisted his body into a familiar stunt, executing a perfect 360.

  Exhilaration rushed though him as his skies connected with the snow then sank deeply into the powder. Too late, Seth realized his mistake. While his skies stopped rotating, his knees didn’t. A dull pop sounded, and a searing pain blasted through one of his knees, traveling up and down his leg. Seth gasped and doubled over, grabbing his leg above the knee to try to dull the pain as waves of nausea washed over him.

  Seth had heard about a pain like this. Read about it. Worked out every day to keep his legs strong so he could avoid it. But here it was, on the first day of his fourteen-day heli-skiing trip.

  “Dude, you okay?” Owen said, skidding to a stop next to him.

  Seth glanced at Owen then down the hill at Garrett, who still snowboarded on, unaware. The remaining skiable terrain stretched out below Seth, taunting him with something he could no longer have. He bit back a curse.

  “I’m pretty sure I just tore my ACL.”

  VOICES, THE SHUFFLING of feet, and other noises invaded Seth’s sleep. He tried to force his eyes open, but it felt as if someone had glued them shut.

  “Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” Garrett’s voice sounded.

  “Anytime now,” said an unfamiliar female voice.

  Seth probed through his foggy mind, finally recalling where he was and why. Funny that his knee didn’t hurt at all. The anesthesiologist must have given him a local. He tried to pry his eyes open once again, this time succeeding. A brief glimpse of a blurry hospital room appeared before his eyes closed again.

  “About time,” Garrett’s voice came again. “You’re mom hasn’t stopped calling or texting for updates since before they took you in for surgery. She wants you to call as soon as you can talk.”

  A hand patted his arm. “Good, you’re awake,” said the voice Seth now assumed was a nurse. “As soon as you’re feeling up to it, I need you to drink something for me.”

  Seth knew he should try to open his eyes again and fully wake up, but all he really wanted to do was go back to sleep. He wasn’t remotely thirsty. Nor was he in the mood to talk to his mother, especially since he’d have to reiterate once again that she didn’t need to come. His parents owned a bookstore in another state, and Seth knew how difficult it was for either of them to get away.

  “You doing okay?” the nurse asked, patting his arm once again.

  “I’m tired, but fine. Thanks,” said Seth.

  A ringing sounded, and Garrett sighed. “Hey, you ready to talk yet? She’s calling again.”

  Seth lifted his hand, still keeping his eyes closed. Garrett answered the phone then pressed it into Seth’s palm.

  “Hey, Mom,” Seth murmured, still feeling a little out of it.

  “I should have come,” she said without preamble. “I should be there right now to take you home from the hospital and make sure you do as you’re told. I’m not sure Garrett can handle you. Does he know what a horrible patient you can be?”

  Seth smiled. That was his mother’s way of saying she was worried, which he appreciated. “If I promise to follow all the doctor’s orders, will you please stop stressing? I’m fine. Garrett’s going to crash at my house tonight, and the doctor said I’ll be feeling good in no time.”

  “Your dad can manage for a few days without me,” said his mother, as if she hadn’t heard a word Seth said. “Just say the word, and I can be on a flight tonight. I’m sure Lanna can pick me up from the airport.”

  “You’ve talked to Lanna?” Seth said with a frown. He wasn’t ready for Lanna to find out what had happened to him. He wanted her to forgive him on her own terms, not out of pity.

  “No, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Is she there right now?”

  Seth forced his eyes open to look around the room. The nurse typed something into a computer, while Garrett sat next to the bed, looking bored. “No,” Seth answered. “She’s not exactly talking to me at the moment.” The words were out before Seth realized he shouldn’t have said them. He blamed the anesthesia.

  “Why?”

  He sighed. “Because she’s Lanna, that’s why. Do you mind if we don’t talk about this right now?”

  “But who’s going to see that you eat something decent? Garrett can’t cook, and Owen’s even worse.”

  Seth grinned. Good thing Garrett hadn’t heard that. He prided himself on the three dishes he knew how to make. “I promise you, I’m going to be just fine.”

  A nurse with short blonde hair held out a large Styrofoam cup with a drinking straw. “I need you to drink this for me,” she whispered.

  “Mom, I’ve got to go. Nurse’s orders. I’ll call you once I get home, okay?”

  She hesitated. “You sure you’re okay without me?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but yeah, I’m sure. I’ll call you later.”

  Seth handed the phone back to Garrett and took the drink from the nurse, forcing the cold liquid down his throat.

  “How are you feeling?” the nurse asked.

  “Like I’ve been drugged.”

  She laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s normal.”

  “My knee doesn’t hurt at a
ll. Is that normal too?”

  She gave him a rueful smile and rubbed his arm in a motherly way. “Give it time. The local’s only going to last so long. Enjoy it while you can.”

  Seth nodded, feeling antsy. He couldn’t wait to get back to the comfortable surroundings of his house. The large, flat-screen TV. The couch. His bed. “When can I head home?”

  “Just as soon as the doctor goes over a few things and signs the release papers. I paged him when you woke up, so he should be here any second.”

  As if on cue, the doctor breezed through the door with a chart in hand. With his gray hair and wise eyes, he looked confident and capable. When they’d first met, Seth had liked him right away.

  “Looks like our patient’s awake,” said the doctor. “How are you, Seth?”

  “Ready to go home.”

  “I’ll bet.” The doctor chuckled, flipped through Seth’s chart, and set it aside. “The surgery went well, as should the recovery. Whenever you’re not doing that list of exercises I gave you, keep your leg in the immobilizer, elevated, iced, and use that compression dressing. We want to minimize the swelling as much as possible. I also took the liberty of having one of my staff set up your first appointment with the best PT in the area. Her name is Grace Warren.”

  “Her?” Seth wasn’t so sure about working with a woman. He wanted someone to push him hard, not coddle him.

  “Trust me on this. She knows her stuff.”

  Seth shrugged, still a little skeptical. But if the best orthopedic surgeon in Seattle said Grace Warren was the best PT in Seattle, who was he to argue? “I just want my knee back, Doc. The sooner the better.”

  “Which is why I had my scheduler make the appointment. Grace is always booked, but we’ve worked together for a while now, so she squeezes in my patients as a favor to me. Your appointment’s tomorrow morning at ten. Don’t be late.”

  “Yes, sir.” Seth almost did a mock salute, but kept himself in check.

  “I’ll make sure he’s there on time,” said Garrett.

  Seth snickered. “Only if we leave ten minutes earlier than necessary.”

  Garrett raised an eyebrow. “Hey, you’re more than welcome to drive yourself. Oh, wait—you can’t.”

  The doctor’s lips twitched as he patted the rail on Seth’s bed. “Looks like I’m leaving you in good hands.”

  Seth relaxed against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “If by ‘good’ you mean a therapist who knows her stuff and the world’s safest chauffer, then yeah, I guess I am. I’m sure I’ll be better in no time,” Seth said dryly.

  The doctor offered a look of sympathy. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘no time,’ but you’ll get there eventually.”

  Suddenly, the estimated six to nine month recovery seemed like forever to Seth. He hoped this PT knew what she was doing so it would be closer to six.

  “GRACE, YOUR NEXT appointment’s here,” said the receptionist as she handed Grace a file. She dropped her voice. “And he’s a hottie.”

  Grace bit back a smile. If a patient happened to be a male between the ages of 25 and 35, Kelli thought he was hot. “Thanks. Tell him I’ll be with him in a second.” Grace finished the sentence she was writing then opened the file of her newest patient. She scanned through the paperwork.

  Name: Seth Tuttle

  Reason for visit: Post ACL reconstruction rehabilitation.

  The moment Grace read the name, she frowned. Although it had been weeks since her last encounter with someone named Seth, the name still acted as a trigger. She hadn’t even met her newest patient, but already he made a nervous pit form in her stomach. How would a self-appointed, ego-driven, chaos-wreaking patient do with ACL rehab? She tapped the pen against her lower lip. If this guy was anything like the last Seth she’d met, the next several months might prove to be difficult.

  With a sigh, she stood and pasted a smile on her face. But when she rounded the corner and pulled open the door to her waiting room, her smile disappeared.

  Oh no. Not that Seth. It couldn’t be.

  From his profile, Seth looked exactly the same as he had the night of the auction. Exactly. Same two days’ worth of growth on his face, same sweatpants, same navy hoodie—only this time it lay on the chair next to him, giving Grace a view of his sizable biceps that stretched the sleeves of his t-shirt. She didn’t know what upset her composure more, the fact that he was even better looking than she remembered, or the fact that she wasn’t nearly as prepared to see him as she wanted to be.

  Seth flipped through a magazine, completely oblivious to the fact that he was about to get reacquainted with the woman he’d outbid and kissed.

  Grace suddenly wanted to duck back through the door and tell her receptionist that Seth Tuttle would have to reschedule with a different therapist in a different office, and—if possible—a different state. Grace didn’t want to be anywhere near the aftermath of the chaos he was bound to cause.

  As if sensing her presence, Seth lifted his head and met her gaze with striking blue eyes. She stiffened, waiting for the recognition to come.

  “Are you Grace?” he said, all innocence, as though he’d never seen her before.

  Grace blinked as realization struck. He didn’t recognize her. She should be thrilled by that knowledge—elated, even. Not only did it give her the opportunity for a fresh start, but it gave her the upper hand, in a way. Yet her annoyance won out. All this time, she’d stewed about that night, relived it over and over in her mind, trying to figure out where she went wrong and how she could have handled things differently. While Seth, on the other hand, had apparently forgotten all about her the moment she’d walked away.

  She forced her feet forward and lifted her chin. “I take it you’re Seth Tuttle?”

  “I am.” He grabbed the crutches at his side and hoisted himself up easily. Shooting the receptionist a look, he said, “Hey, my friend’s parking the car right now. When he comes in, would you mind telling him I’ve already gone in?”

  “Of course. I can send him back if you’d like.”

  “No, I’m sure he’d rather wait here.” Seth turned his attention to Grace and smiled. “So, you’re Grace Warren. Dr. Ross tells me you’re the best PT in the Seattle area, which I’m hoping is true. I want my knee back as soon as possible and need a PT who can bring it.”

  Whether it was because he didn’t recognize her, or because he questioned her professional skills, Grace bristled. “Dr. Ross is wrong.”

  Seth raised his eyebrows in question.

  “I’m the best physical therapist anywhere, including Seattle.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked back through the self-closing door, not bothering to hold it open for him like she usually did for patients with crutches or wheelchairs. When the sounds of Seth struggling to get through the door reached her ears, a smile tugged at the corner of Grace’s mouth. He did say to bring it.

  She strode past Cameron, who was working with another patient, and stopped next to a table, where she waited for Seth.

  As he made his way toward Grace, Seth nodded briefly at Cameron then did a double-take and stopped. “Hey, aren’t you that guy from the auction?”

  Oh sure, he recognizes Cameron, Grace thought dryly.

  Cameron glanced up. His face reddened as his eyes darted from Seth to Grace and back to Seth again. “What are you doing here? I mean, Lanna said we were square—that I didn’t have to . . . you know.”

  Grace rolled her eyes as Seth chuckled. “Yeah, we’re square. No worries. I only bid to get Lanna to take the money.”

  “Oh.” Cameron visibly relaxed. “Next time do me a favor and clue me in beforehand, will you?”

  “Let’s hope there won’t be a next time.” Seth shifted his weight, easing off his left leg. “Otherwise I’ll be on Lanna’s blacklist permanently.”

  Cameron chuckled. “Personally, I’d be more worried about Grace if I were you. I seriously doubt you’re ever going to get off her blacklist.”

  Seth’s forehead crinkle
d in confusion. “What do you mean? Apologize for what?” Seth’s gaze moved to Grace.

  She fought the urge to direct a scathing glare at Cameron. So much for a fresh start or having the upper hand.

  “Do we know each other?” Seth asked her. “Now that I think about it, you do sort of look familiar.”

  Grace returned his gaze. “Depends on what you mean by ‘know.’ If you’re the type of guy who goes around kissing girls at random then forgets about them, I guess we don’t.”

  “Wait, he kissed you?” Cameron’s voice rang out. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  Grace nearly groaned. Only minutes into their appointment, and Seth was already at it again. A self-appointed god of chaos suddenly seemed like an understatement. He was more like the god of havoc and misery and embarrassment all rolled into one. There wasn’t a name for what he was.

  A slow smile spread across Seth’s face as recognition finally dawned. “You’re that girl from the auction, aren’t you? Wow. Talk about a small world.”

  “I can’t believe you kissed her, man,” Cameron said, still laughing. “You’ve got some serious guts.”

  Ignoring Cameron, Seth kept his gaze trained on Grace. “I’m actually glad I ran into you again. I wanted to apologize. You know, for outbidding you.”

  For outbidding her? That was it? What about the kiss? “Really? That’s all you’re sorry about?” she asked.

  A flirtatious twinkle appeared in his eyes. “Should I be sorry about something else?”

  Grace rolled her eyes. She should have expected that.

  “Oh, wait.” Seth’s brow furrowed as he gestured from Grace to Cameron. “Are you two . . .? I mean, I did outbid you for him, right?” He left the question hanging as if it was an actual possibility that Grace would ever date someone like Cameron.

  Ugh.

  “No,” said Grace. “We’re not.”

  “My girlfriend couldn’t make it,” Cameron explained. “So I asked Grace to come bid on me instead.”