Page 4 of Pour Decisions
“I gathered that.” His eyes go to the logo for the clinic printed over my left breast, then skim over my body.
We stare at each other for several more beats, my heart racing. I forgot how intense he is. The height, the stature, all of him. If I hadn’t noticed how adorably flustered he was to see me for the first time back at the Copper Moon, I wouldn’t have flirted with him at all.
“We should get started,” I say, clearing my throat.
“We should.” Did his voice get deeper? Or has it just been so long that I’d forgotten how much I like it?
“Follow me.” I nod toward the back and start walking.
We reach the back area where I’ll be assessing his movement and history, a large room with a glass wall. I guide him over to the small table in the corner, and he eases into it like sitting down normally hurts. It’s so small that our knees touch. I pull mine away like his knee is a hot iron.
“Okay.” I poke around my tablet to pull up his mostly blank record. “Today’s session will be a bit different. I’ll be assessing you to see where we are so we can figure out where we need to go.”
He just grunts in response, putting his phone facedown on the table. I take a deep breath and let it out of my nose before I proceed.
“So your referral said you’re here to work on some intense back pain. Tell me about life before your injury,” I say. “What was your range of motion like? What kind of movement did you get?”
“It was fine.” He shrugs. “Nothing really hurt. I went on trail runs. I lifted weights at the gym.”
That’s very clear. He’s imposing, thick with muscle. His naturally broad shoulders are even broader. The athletic shirt he’s wearing molds to his body perfectly. Even when I try to look at him as clinically as possible, I can’t—he’s like an anatomically perfect model.
Memories of how it felt to touch him come roaring back too, despite my best efforts.
“Are you still going to the gym now?” I tap my notes out.
“I’ve tried.”
And failedis implied. The JD I knew wouldn’t admit it, so that hasn’t changed.
I study him for a second. “Did you push yourself too far?”
“Define too far.”
I call on every ounce of professionalism I have to not roll my eyes. What a JD response. “Exercising to the point of pain, or to the point where it disrupts your life.”
He shifts in his seat and winces before recovering with a bland look on his face. “Maybe I do.”
“Gotcha.” I write downprone to pushing himself excessivelyin my notes. “Tell me about the injury. How did it start and how has it affected your life?”
“I got it lifting.” His cheeks flush ever so slightly. “It’s affected my life because it hurts when I move certain ways. I just want it to be fixed, and my doctor said this is faster than just waiting it out.”
I check the records his doctor shared—he’s right. It’s technically not that bad, but it’s better to start treatment now than let it all get worse.
“JD, I can’t treat you if you’re going to be...” I sigh and wave my hand vaguely.
“Going to be what?” His eyebrow pops up.
I blink, my face getting hot as he pins me with a stare. I don’t know even know what I was going to say.
“We can’t let our past affect your treatment,” I tell him, keeping my voice low.
“How is it affecting my treatment?” he asks.
I take a deep breath and let it out. He’s gotten inside my head already. So much for all that mental prep of mine. But to be honest, he’s being kind of a prick. I’m not going to make anything better by showing how annoyed I am.
“Never mind.” I swallow and look back down at my tablet. “Is it stopping you from working? From doing things with friends or a significant other or family? Or is it just making it difficult?”
He can probably see straight through my nosiness about his dating life, but my nosiness can’t be tamed.
