Page 18 of Love is Fake

“She sounds great,” I admit, genuinely. “I hope I’m around long enough to meet her.”

Lennox nods thoughtfully, still not looking at me. After what feels like the longest minute ever, he sighs in resignation.

“Your treatment table is inside, and I confirmed the rental return with your boss this morning,” Lennox says, a little begrudgingly, but at least he finally meets my eyes.

So perhaps he wasn’t as high-handed and as much of a railroader as I thought.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why didn’t you just say that instead of letting me think -?” I bite my lip so I don’t say anything that might incriminate me or plunge his mood back into the gutter.

“Think what? That I’m a…what was it you said?” He taps his lip, looking up at the sky like he’s trying to remember. “Oh yeah, an ‘obtuse asshole’.”

I cringe at the reminder. He’s definitely not going to let me forget that exchange. Time to be the bigger person, as my dad would say.

“Look, Mr. Gray, if we’re going to work together then can we just start with a clean slate? Neither of us were our best selves yesterday, so how about we draw a line under it and start fresh today?” I try to maneuver the binder I’m holding into a more comfortable position, but it’s so damn heavy and I’ve been standing with it for so damn long, I’m starting to lose the feeling in my arms.

“You need a hand with that?” Lennox nods at the weight in my hands and doesn’t wait for my assent before reaching for it. When he reaches over, his fingertips brush my skin and I shiver involuntarily at the contact and – inevitably – drop the binder.

Fuck.

“Sorry, I’m such a klutz!” I reach down to pick it up from the ground at the same time he does, but he gets there first.

In my panicked rush to avoid our hands touching again after the visceral reaction I seem to have to him, I jump up to standing and manage to headbutt him in the nose.

“Jesus!” Lennox’s head snaps back, his hand going to cover his face automatically. To say I’m mortified would be the understatement of the year.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” I speak a mile a minute and without thinking, reach up to move his hand away from his nose. “Let me see.”

Please don’t let there be blood, please don’t let there be blood.

I breathe an internal sigh of relief when I see his nose isn’t broken. Thank goodness because aside from the guilt of hurting him, it’s a news article that would dog my professional life forever. I can already see it now.Junior Physio Breaks NHL Star’s Nose

“It’s just bruised I think,” I murmur, inspecting his nose, touching and probing his cheekbones just to make sure everything’s in place.

I’m not sure when it penetrates that I’m up on my tiptoes, running my fingers over Lennox’s stubbly cheeks, our faces only a few inches apart from each other. The moment it does, I know I should let my hands drop by my side and step away, but I’m frozen. I’m close enough to see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. Close enough to taste the mint on his tongue without kissing him. Close enough to hear every heartbeat pounding against his chest.

Lennox’s gaze tracks down to my mouth, making me hold my breath. I should move. I know that I should. It’s just that time seems as still as my feet do right now. Like I’ve been trapped in a vessel, frozen between reality and the damning thoughts in my head. But I’m not blaming myself for this. It’s like Lennox is a magnet drawing me towards him. His head dips down and mylips part, my eyes start to flutter close of their own volition, until a whoosh of air snaps them back open as Lennox takes a big step back.

“Yeah, I think you’re right, it isn’t broken.” His voice is husky as he looks away from me. “Thanks for checking.”

My face flames, not just because I’m thinking about what an idiot I must have looked like, standing there as if I was waiting for him to kiss me, but also because Lennox himself is so obviously uncomfortable.

“No problem,” I croak out, smoothing the non-existent creases out of my shirt just so I have an excuse not to look him in the eyes. “You should – uh – put some ice on that though, to stop it, you know, from swelling.”

Please let this be the moment an asteroid hits Earth. Please. That would at least kill me faster than this awkwardness.

“Good idea, I’ll get some ice and I’ll meet you in the gym.” Lennox latches onto my suggestion like a drowning man would a life preserver, probably because it involves being in a different room from me.

“Great!” I nod, injecting as much enthusiasm as possible into my voice.

“Great,” he echoes, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand like a nervous teenager, before spinning on his heel and heading towards the house.

I take it I’m supposed to follow, and I hurry to catch up, his longer legs eating up the distance faster than I can without breaking into a trot.

Crossing the threshold, I don’t stop to ogle the house-porn like I did the night before, there’s no time if I don’t want to be left behind. I very quickly realize I have no idea where I’m going.

I call out to Lennox but he’s already out of sight, racewalking towards his kitchen like a damn pro, although it must be hurting him to move that fast without crutches.

“Umm, Mr. Gray, where’s the gym again?” I ask, wondering if I’m going to feel this gawky around him the entire time.

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