Page 102 of Nailing Heat
“Agreed, but he seems to give her a lot of leeway, hopefully hekeeps on doing it.” Cassie helps me get into the Jeep and asks, “You good? Is there anything you need?”
“I’m fine, you don’t have to baby me,” I say grinning at her. “Although, I do get to pick the music!”
She giggles, coming around the Jeep. “All yours, girl.” She hands me her iPhone, and I find a Spotify playlist that I like. And we’re off to practice.
It feels weird walking into the training room, I know he’s going to be there. The anticipation of seeing him feels like it’s rising in my chest. Every step towards the room feels like it’s getting heavier. I stop at the entrance and take a deep breath in and out.
“Here goes nothing,” I say and push open the door.
My eyes immediately begin scanning the room. I’m not finding the trainer that I am looking for. I see only Lucas in the room.
“Hey, Amelia, how’s it going?” Lucas walks over to me. “Come on in and I’ll get a look at that knee before we get started.”
I nod and say, “I thought we would be doing some exercises or stretches today.”
“We will get to that, but first I wanna see what we’re working with. So, pop up here on the table let me get a look at you.” He slaps the table in front of him.
I sigh and make my way over to him. I’m annoyed that I have to go through this range of motion bullshit with him. I wish it was Dex here helping me with this. He’s so gentle and quick when he moves my knee around. But I’ve done this to myself because if I had only let Dex continue to work with me, this wouldn’t be a thing.
“Didn’t he leave you any notes?” I ask, hoping to change his plans.
He nods and says, “He left a few but I want to see where we are. Every week or so, we do these checks. Didn’t he do one with you at the end of last week.”
I shake my head, remembering back to the last time we were in here. Dex was too busy making out with me to worry about the range of motion in my leg. No, we had our tongues down each other throats and we were exploring that range. That is not something that I can say to Lucas.
“I don’t think so. I think I was too sore to do that,” I say lamely.
“Well, let’s do it now. Brace off,” he tells me.
I take the brace off, and Lucas starts torturing me, having me move my knee around as much as I can tolerate. We work on how far I can bend, fully straighten it and then my side-to-side motion, which sucks.
“How are you doing with everything?” Lucas asks, while he moves the knee around.
I stare at him for a moment. I’m not sure what he’s referring to. Is he talking about my knee? Or the fact that whatever relationship I had, where I said I loved him, ended with his leggy, perfect wife showing up? Which one does he mean?
“Uhh,” I stammer.
“Are you still taking the pain meds regularly? And have you been icing it?” he clarifies.
“Oh, that. I’m still on the pain medication and I have been icing it nightly. Well, most nights.” I don’t dare add that the night I spent wrapped around Dex, I did not ice because the heat our bodies generated would have caused it all to melt. No, I do not mention that at all.
“Good, that’s good. I think the swelling looks good. We’re going to work on some exercises in here and then I’ll send you out to the pitch to watch the rest of practice. I promised Watts that you would be out there at some point,” he tells me.
I nod and say, “Okay.” I look around the training room back towards the door to his office, which is open. But there is no sign of him. If Lucas would have me on the table that is closer to hisoffice, I might be able to see if he’s there. But I can’t. I sigh, feeling defeated.
“Everything okay?” Lucas asks, moving my leg around a bit more.
I wince. “That hurts.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Let’s check on your range of motion.” Lucas reaches over and grabs a tool that helps him measure the angle in the end of my knee. “I’ll be gentler with you, I promise.”
“You’re fine. I’m used to being poked and prodded with this damn thing.”
“Any updates on when you’re headed back to the doctor? You could ask them for a cortisone shot and see if that would help with your PT,” he suggests.
I shrug. “I think that Dex, as a PA, was planning on managing my care because it’s not surgical. I guess I could call the doctor I saw that night and see if he would see me,” I say, shrugging.
“Hmm, okay, well, I’ll mention it to Dex when I see him next, see what he thinks. Hold off on calling Dr. Haldman.”
