by JA Low
“Isn’t that what you do… move to the suburbs once you’re married and have kids?” I ask.
“Maybe, or if you want a different pace of life,” she suggests. “Do you not see yourself married with kids?”
Her question stills me. Me, a family man? I can see myself as the cool uncle, but I don’t know.
“Men don’t plan that kind of stuff.” I scoff.
“Um, have you seen your two best friends?” She laughs. “Noah was ready to walk your sister down the aisle the moment he met her.” She doesn’t have to remind me of that time. A shiver runs through my body just thinking about my best friend and sister being together.
“Yes, but Noah’s weird,” I joke.
“No, he’s a romantic.” Stella sighs dreamily. Turning my head, I stare at Stella for a couple of beats.
“I’m pretty sure most women will run the other way if a man tells them after the first date, ‘I’m going to marry you.’ That stuff might work in your dirty books but not in real life.”
“Don’t knock my books.” Stella glares at me.
“I’m not. I’m just saying they are giving women a false sense of hope that some billionaire is going to whisk them off and live happily ever after.”
“You seriously think women can’t tell the difference between real life and fantasy?” Stella’s tone seems a little more clipped than I was expecting.
“No… I’m simply saying…” I am trying to dig myself out of the hole I’ve seemed to have dug myself into.
“Choose your words wisely, Mr. Jones,” Stella warns.
I zip my mouth shut because whatever I say, I’m going to put my foot in it. “What do you want out of life, then?” I change the subject away from her books.
“In five years, I hope I will meet someone who is my life partner,” she muses wistfully. “Maybe be married or having a child.”
I choke on her words. “In five years?”
“I’m a woman. I can’t wait around like you can,” she throws back at me. “Biological clock is tick, tick, ticking.”
“You’re still so young.” She’s not even thirty.
“But in five years, I won’t be,” she adds. “Especially if I keep wasting my time on douchebags like Dan.” Maybe she’s right.
“Do you think you will still be working with me?” A little worried about what her answer might be, I still want her response.
“You seriously think I would tell my boss that in five years, I’m going to be done and dusted with this joint.” She lets out a hearty laugh, which makes me frown.
“But it’s me you’re talking to.” Now, I’m feeling a little hurt. “We’re friends.”
“Oh…” her face falls, “… you’re serious.”
“Of course, I am, Stell. I’ve said it so many times. We’re friends. Family even because you’re so close with my sister. I would never fire you over a hypothetical chat about life.”
Am I that much of a tyrant to work for that she’s worried I would fire her if she said she would want to do something else?
“I worry that the lines between work and friends blur, and…” She doesn’t finish the sentence.
Okay, I understand that.
“At this moment, we are friends talking about shit,” I tell her.
She pauses for a couple of moments as if letting my comments sink in.
“My dream would be to be married and have kids. Like what Lenna and Logan have,” she confesses quickly. Silence falls between us, and after a little while, Stella breaks the tension. “See… this is why you can’t have these kinds of chats. It’s made it weird between us.”
“No, it hasn’t. I was just taking your answer in,” I tell her.
“Don’t worry, I don’t see you being the father.” She bursts out laughing, and I’m hurt by her comment if I’m honest.
“You think no one wants to reproduce with me?” I question.
She frowns before scrambling over her words. “I’ve seen you with Jagger. Of course, you would make a great father. But that wasn’t what you envisioned your life being in five years,” she explains.
“Doesn’t mean anything’s set in stone,” I add grumpily.
“I know that. Why are you being so weird?”
“My friend laughed at the idea that I might be a father in five years,” my voice raises. Why has this struck a nerve?
“EJ, you’re overreacting,” she argues back.
Stella’s right. I am overreacting, especially as this was supposed to be a fun chat. But she sees me as a joke, a man who wouldn’t want the same things as her. Subconsciously, I rub my chest where my heart constricts a little. What was that weird feeling?
“I know I am,” I agree with her.
We both stare at each other for a couple of moments, then burst out laughing, cutting the tension.
“A couple of days of living with a woman, and I’m becoming emotional.”
“Soon, our cycles will be syncing,” Stella jokes, especially as I shiver at the mere mention of her periods.
18
Stella
Things have gone back to normal between EJ and me. Well, the new normal, that is. We have learned to co-exist, especially now that I have a bit more independence with the crutches and can move around the house without EJ’s constant help.
We’ve busied ourselves with binge-watching pretty much everything there is on television. We have even done a couple of jigsaw puzzles together to pass the time. I’ve been able to finally catch up on my long list of books to read on my Kindle. It’s been nice slowing down a little. EJ has been experimenting in the kitchen, and I’ve had the pleasure of being his taste-tester.
Watching him in his element is hot. The way his forearm muscles move as he slices a vegetable, and if he’s wearing a T-shirt, the way his biceps move is hypnotic. The way EJ unconsciously bites his bottom lip as he concentrates on what he’s doing, or when EJ licks the tiniest beads of sweat off his top lip while he’s sautéing whatever it is in his pan is intoxicating.
It’s not like I haven’t seen him cook before. I have, many times. But when it’s just the two of us, he’s relaxed and not barking orders at his staff with a full restaurant of paying customers. Instead, it’s just him chatting away, explaining his ideas as he experiments with different types of ingredients. You can see the passion that’s usually masked by the stress of his business. But here in his home, it’s unfiltered passion. And that’s hot.
Maybe I should be thinking about making use of my battery-operated friend. It’s been a while. I mean, if watching EJ cook is getting me all hot and bothered, I think I need to relieve myself a little. The only thing is I’m never alone, and I don’t know how loud it will be, and the last thing I need is for EJ to hear my little friend and me having fun, especially after the previous conversation we had about orgasms and him threatening to give me some.
I wonder if EJ is as good as he says he is.
No. What the hell, Stella.
I do not need those kinds of thoughts.
They are only going to lead to heartbreak.
“You ready for your first physiotherapy session.” EJ grins as I wait patiently on the couch for the hell to start. I look up at him and give him a dirty look, which makes him burst out laughing. “Come on, Stell, it won’t be that bad. Plus, you can only watch so many episodes of the housewives. This will mix things up a bit.” He grins.
I don’t care what kind of positive spin you put on the torture which is about to happen, I still don’t want to do it.
There’s a knock on the door, and EJ cockily goes over and answers it. There is a bit of back and forth going on, and I see the look on EJ’s face as he walks toward me. He isn’t happy. What the hell has just happened? Then I see who’s walking behind him—six foot plus, blond, giant of a man dressed in black shorts that shows his tree-trunk thighs. I have to hold in my laughter because my new therapist is hot. Maybe this working-out thing isn’t going to be so bad, after all.
“This is
Gray,” EJ introduces my new therapist to me. “He comes highly recommended by Walker.” My eyes rake over the giant again. I see it now. He looks like an ex-football player. I never thought I would say it but thank you, Walker Randoff.
“Hi, nice to meet you.” His handsome face lights up when he sees me as he holds out his hand to mine. I take his meaty paw, which engulfs mine completely, and I shake his. There’s a spark. A tiny one, but it’s there. He must feel it, too, as his green eyes sparkle as he looks down at me.
“I’m Stella.” I introduce myself, which gets another wide grin from him. We both can’t keep our eyes from each other, our hands keep shaking, and it’s not until EJ says something that breaks the spell between Gray and me.
“The gym is this way if you want to set up,” EJ grumbles out his words.
“Thanks. That would be great.” Gray’s deep timber voice sends shivers down my spine. Yum. The guys disappear, and I quickly grab my phone and send a message to my girls.
Stella: Oh my God. My new physiotherapist is hot.
Ariana: Sneak a pic
Chloe: Nice.
Lenna: Have fun.
Stella: He’s one of Walker’s friends or something. His name is Gray.
Chloe: Oh, I know Gray. He is damn fine.
Moments later, the message buzzes with a photograph of Gray in his football gear that Chloe found.
Ariana: I wouldn’t mind those hands on me.
Lenna: I want a broken leg now.
This makes me laugh.
“What’s so funny?” EJ scares me, making me drop my phone. My cheeks heat as if I’ve just been busted doing something I shouldn’t be.
“Nothing. Just something the girls said in the chat,” I add.
“Let me guess… about your new therapist?” he grumbles.
“No. They just wished me luck for today. You know me, I hate exercise.” I’m trying to keep a straight face, but I know I am failing miserably.
“Guessing now that’s changed?” He raises a brow at me.
I roll my eyes. “Please. The man has a job to do.”
“Yeah, you,” EJ adds quickly.
My eyes narrow on him.
Is he jealous?
“I’m sure Gray is a consummate professional,” I add, ignoring his pouting.
“I saw the way he was checking you out,” EJ adds. “I don’t like it. He’s here to help get you better not—”
“Not what?” I interrupt, daring him to go there.
“Nothing. Doesn’t matter. Look, I’ve got to head to the restaurant. A shipment of lobsters has arrived, and I need to check through them to make sure they are all the right size.”
A frown falls on my face. He’s had stuff arriving all week for the restaurant.
Why does he have to head out now? He’s jealous.
Maybe he is, but he doesn’t have a right to be. I can appreciate a good-looking man, but it doesn’t mean I will jump him the moment I’m alone with him. You have a broken leg, and there will be no jumping, I think to myself.
“Okay, fine. See you when you get back.” I watch EJ disappear out the front door.
“You ready, Miss Price?” Gray asks, his voice like a fine wine that I could easily take a sip of. He’s removed his hoodie, and he’s left his tight white T-shirt on. I can see every muscle and every dip of his body. Oh my, this man is nothing but lean muscle. Damn, it’s going to be hard to concentrate around him.
“I think so.” I try and get up off the couch.
“Let me help.” Gray rushes over and wraps his solid arm around me and lifts me from the couch as if I weigh nothing.
“I just need my crutches.” Pointing to the pink set beside me, he hands them over and watches me intently as I hobble toward the gym, which is on the other side of the apartment. Poking my head around the corner, I’m surprised to see all the equipment. Usually, it’s just EJ’s boxing bag and treadmill. But it’s been completely transformed with a Pilates machine, weights machine, and a few other gadgets. When the hell did EJ do all this?
“It’s a pretty good set up,” Gray adds. “Your boyfriend bought the best products on the market for your recovery.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I add as my eyes scan the room.
“Oh, sorry, husband,” Gray corrects himself.
I turn and look over at him. “EJ’s a friend and my boss.”
Gray’s eyes widen in surprise.
“My boyfriend broke up with me last week. This…” Pointing to my leg, “… was inconvenient and a little too much drama for him.” Not sure why I’m telling Gray this. “The doctor wouldn’t let me leave the hospital unless I had somewhere to go that could provide around-the-clock care for me.”
Gray nods his head in understanding. “Well, it’s nice of EJ to set this all up for you. You must be an important employee.” He reaches out and grabs my crutches, then places them against the wall.
“Guess so.” Not sure how to respond to that statement.
“Let’s get you started.”
An hour later, and I’m drenched from the Pilates workout. Who knew that machine would be a torture device?
“You did so well today, Stella.” Gray gives me a high-five. “This was a great start,” he relays enthusiastically.
I feel good. My body seems more alive, but everything aches.
“You will need to rest for the rest of the day. Take it easy, and we will do it all over again tomorrow.” My eyes widen in surprise. Again? “You’re stuck with me five times a week for the next month.” He grins.
Okay, maybe this isn’t going to be so bad.
“Here.” He pulls a card out of his pocket and hands it to me. “If you have any problems, please give me a call.” I look down at his business card in my hand.
“Thanks,” I say, smiling at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to it.” And with that, he grabs his stuff and leaves the apartment. I hobble out to the kitchen and grab myself a drink.
EJ is still missing. Is he going to do that every day Gray is here? Or was it just today?
The cool liquid feels fantastic against my heated body. I probably need a fireman’s hose to cool down after that session. The way Gray’s hands ran along my skin as he moved me around the gadget, his fingers touching my ankles, up to my calves, along the underside of my arms—a shiver runs down my spine remembering the feeling of his touch.
Wow. I’m hard up if this man’s touch is doing it for me.
Have I been that devoid of a man touching me that I think my therapist helping me is sexy? Urgh. Being locked up is driving me crazy.
I need a shower to cool down and get myself under control.
19
EJ
The way that Stella’s face lit up when she saw her therapist arrive, I knew I couldn’t stand around and watch the two of them flirt with each other. It is evident that he thinks Stella’s hot. He has eyes, but what I wasn’t expecting was Stella’s eyes to devour him as equally.
Is this what Stella felt every time she saw me with another woman?
Worse, my conscience tells me. She walked in on me fucking women over my desk. If I came home and found Gray fucking her over the couch, I’d go ballistic. And yet, she endured that scene for years. What the hell, conscience? You’re supposed to be on my side. Double standards much. Urgh. I’m feeling frustrated with my train of thought.
I pull out my phone and call Logan. I need someone who’s going to tell me straight.
“Hey, how are you going?” He sounds exhausted.
“Did I catch you at the wrong time?” Yeah, calling the guy with a kid about your pathetic problem isn’t the right idea, is it now?
“No, no. Just teething issues with Jagger,” he groans. “I need a distraction. What’s going on? How’s Stella?”
“How did—”
Logan interrupts me, “You call Noah when you want to shoot the shit, and you call me when you have a problem” Okay, he’s right. “And I’m assuming
cohabiting with a woman that you have feelings for but can’t do anything about, is one big problem.” Smartass.
“Maybe I should have called Noah,” I grumble, which makes him burst out laughing.
“Thanks for making my day.” He chuckles, and I’m seriously rethinking this phone call now. “But in all seriousness, are you okay?”
“Fucking Walker,” I grumble.
“Okay. That was not where I thought this conversation was about to go. What the hell has he done now?”
“He recommended this physiotherapist…” I don’t even get to finish, and Logan is laughing again.
“Oh no, let me guess, he’s a former football player, and he’s good- looking?”
“He’s super-hot.” I hear Lenna call out in the distance.
“Babe, what the hell?” Logan questions Lenna.
“Yeah, we just had a group chat about it. Stella was excited when he turned up. Chloe knows him and sent us a picture.”
The line goes quiet for a couple of seconds.
“Oh,” Logan starts.
“Oh, what?” Concern grips me.
“Lenna just showed me a picture of him and, well, I wouldn’t be too happy if he was working on Lenna.”
“As if anyone could compete with you,” Lenna adds. “But he sure is pretty to look at.”
“Woman,” Logan grumbles, and Lenna bursts out laughing, then there’s squealing as I assume Logan starts chasing her. Okay, this just got weird. Moments later, the phone hangs up on me. Well, that was no fucking help as I stare at the blank screen. I press Noah’s name. I should have just gone there first.
“Let me guess you’re calling because of Stella’s new therapist,” Noah answers the phone before I even have time to say hello. I hate this group sometimes. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.
“Yes.” I don’t bother hiding it.
“Chloe called me from the shop and told me about it,” he adds. “Guessing by the sounds of it, you’re not too impressed.”
“Nope. Not really,” I state.
“You seriously think Stella is going to go for someone like him?” Noah asks.
