Chapter 20

 

 

There’s a lesson we’re taught in school about bedside manner. If you’re in a job that requires you to deal with patients, you’ll occasionally come across someone you might be scared of, like a prisoner, or someone extremely sick, or maybe even a drug addict from the streets. You’re supposed to be kind and supportive and treat each person like you treat anyone else. Just because they’re dirty or smell bad doesn’t mean you can treat them less than the human being they are. I totally agree with all of this, but…

Does the same thing apply to guys you’ve slept with?

I take a shuddering breath and give Aiden a polite smile. I want more than anything to turn around and tell Martha I can’t handle this patient, but doing what you’re told is Intern 101 stuff. I can’t wimp out. I have to be a professional. Just because I know this patient in a personal capacity doesn’t mean I can treat him any less than I would any other patient. So what if he slept with me and then never called me again?

Also, dammit. I should have known this would happen. I knew Aiden’s cast would come off soon. I knew he’d need PT. I guess I assumed he’d go back to Orlando for that.

“Good afternoon,” I say, staring at the paperwork on my clipboard because it’s much safer than looking at him. He’s gorgeous, as always. His hair has clearly been brushed but it’s still sticking out all over the place. He’s wearing black shorts and red T-shirt that looks sexy against his tanned skin. Now that his cast is removed, he looks sexier than ever. My brain starts conjuring up ideas of what both of his hands would feel like on my body instead of just one. I remember the rough scratching of the cast across my back. What would his touch feel like now?

Ugh. No. Stop thinking that.

“How are you?” Aiden asks. He seems just as awkward as I am right now, which is good I guess. He feels bad for ditching me. I guess that’s better than if he was going to be a dick about it and point out how he doesn’t like me anymore. At least he’s civil.

“I’m great,” I say, a little too cheerful.

Now that I’m actually paying attention to Aiden’s chart, his name is written right at the top all big and prominent. Why didn’t I see that before I came in here? I could have tried to prepare myself or faked getting sick so I could go home or something.

Too late now.

“I’m going to give you an ultrasound first,” I say. “Then we’ll do some light stretches.”

“I thought ultrasounds were for seeing inside your body,” Aiden says.

I pull up a rolling stool and drag the rolling cart with the ultrasound machine up to the table. “This is a different kind. It uses sound waves to heal your tissues faster.”

“So there’s no screen to see what the inside of my hand looks like?” he asks.

I turn on the machine and it whirrs to life. “I’m afraid not.”

Now comes the most awkward part. Touching him for fifteen minutes. “If you’d like, you can lay down,” I say, gesturing to the padded table he’s laying on. “Some patients prefer to since this takes a while.”

He looks me right in the eye. “I’m fine sitting.”

Great, I think. Of course. Continue sitting up so we’re face to face. This won’t be awkward at all.

I reach for his hand and he puts it in my palm. I sit straighter and pretend he is just any other patient as I squeeze the ultrasound gel on his skin.

“Ooh, it’s warm,” he says with a smile.

“We keep it in a warmer,” I reply, keeping my gaze on his arm and only his arm.

I press the ultrasound wand to his wrist and begin the treatment. Basically all I have to do is run it over his skin, all around the wrist on both sides until the timer goes out. Easy. It’s one of the easiest parts of being a PT intern.

Only right now it doesn’t feel very easy.

I hold onto his arm with one hand and use the ultrasound wand with the other. I focus on his skin as if I need full concentration to do my job. Normally this is the part where I chat with the patient, asking small talk about their families or the weather. But with this particular patient, I am all out of things to say.

I can feel him watching me. We feel all alone here with the curtain walls closing us in, even though it’s just a thin wall of fabric. I can hear Martha working with another patient, and the distant whirr of the treadmills from across the room, but still it feels like it’s just me and Aiden in this place.

It’s suffocating. But I don’t want him to know that.

“Are you in any pain?” I ask.

“Only the pain of missing you.”

My eyes flit up to Aiden’s. His comment knocked the composure right off of me. He smirks in that soft, flirty way of his. My breath catches. And then the logical part of my brain speaks up.

Don’t let him know how much he hurt you.

“My phone number is the same as it was a few weeks ago,” I say, looking back at the ultrasound. “If you missed me so much, you could have called.”

“Phones work both ways,” he says softly. I’m probably mistaken, but it almost sounds like there’s regret in his voice.

I shrug. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I don’t think you could bother me if you tried.” His voice is back to flirty.

I roll my eyes and refuse to smile. “We’re friends, Aiden. You could have called me if you wanted.”

“Well maybe I didn’t just want to be friends,” he says.

I look up.

My hardened heart is starting to crack. I can feel it. I can feel the defenses breaking down like a crumbling brick wall. I can feel that secret desire I’ve had ever since the day I met him rising to the surface of my heart. No. Not today.

I can’t let him flirt with me like this. It’s not true. He has no real feelings for me. We’re just friends. That’s what we agreed on, and then he proved exactly how much of friends we are by hooking up with the same girl who stole my last boyfriend.

I take a deep breath and shut down all those feelings. “I’m sure Miranda filled in for me just fine.”

“What?” he flinches and my ultrasound wand slips off his arm.

I was pretty sure he hadn’t seen me at the restaurant that night, but now I know for certain. I give a little shrug. “You two were pretty cozy at the bar.”

Aiden’s face falls, his lips pressing into a flat line.

He’s been caught and it feels so good to let him know. For once, a guy didn’t get to sneak around behind my back. I knew about it all along. I shrug. “That’s why I didn’t call. I have no desire to be friends with Miranda’s guy of the week.”

“Whoa, Jenn.” Aiden reaches for me with his good hand, his fingertips lightly touching my arm. “That is nothing.”

I snort and stare back at the ultrasound. I hate that I have to hold onto his arm to keep doing this treatment. Will these fifteen minutes ever be over?

“It’s fine, Aiden. It’s in the past. No need to talk about it.”

“But I want to talk about it,” he says, his voice getting a little louder.

I look around and then shoot him a glare. “Shh,” I whisper. “Don’t get me in trouble with my boss.”

“Sorry,” he says quietly. “But we have to talk about his, Jenn.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Seriously. We’re just friends so you can do whatever you want with whoever you want.”

His gaze hardens. “I didn’t do anything with Miranda.”

“Oh that’s right because sucking someone’s finger is the new way of shaking hands. I forgot.” I hope my sarcasm does a good job of hiding my pain.

He closes his eyes. “That girl is a mess. There’s no other word for it. She sat by me, she came onto me, and she got so drunk that I felt bad and so I made sure she got home safely.”

My jaw clenches as I work and I choose not to participate in this conversation anymore. He’s probably lying, just like Jay did.

“Jenn, please,” Aiden says, his voice almost a whisper. “I need you to believe me. Even if you want to keep ignoring me, I just need you to believe that one thing. Because the idea of you—or anyone—thinking I actually liked that girl makes me sick to my stomach.”

I look down, my heart thundering as I work. I glance over at the ultrasound machine and it’s only been seven minutes. I turn his arm over and do the inside of his wrist.

“Fine,” I say. “Let’s just drop it.”

“I can’t drop it. These last few weeks have been miserable without you.”

I am smarter than this. I can’t let my defenses fall, not now, not ever again. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, focusing on his wrist and nothing else. “Maybe I missed you too, but it doesn’t matter. Your wrist is healed and you’re leaving soon.”

He sighs, his head falling. “I know. I just really missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I say. And then I get back to work.

 

 

The next day my classes are canceled because a transformer blew and all the power at the college went out. That’s the kind of random little miracle that can really make your day. I think about going to work at my dad’s shop and getting some hours in, or going back home and watching TV all night. But really, want I want to do more than anything is ride.

It’s been keeping me up at night. Almost two months have passed since I’ve been on my bike and I’m pretty sure I haven’t gone that long without riding in my entire life.

After talking to Aiden and realizing that he didn’t sleep with Miranda—at least, I think he didn’t—I’m feeling a little better. Sure, my heart still aches and I dream about a life where he didn’t have to leave and we could be together for real, but I know that won’t happen. Reality is that Aiden is leaving. Reality is that, yeah, we had a few great nights together. But I have to get back to my life. I can’t keep avoiding the things I love because a guy ruined it for me.

So I drive to the shop and load up my bike. Rafael looks pleased and he says he wishes he could join me but he’s got to finish replacing the motor in a client’s bike before the weekend.

“I’ll be out there all night,” I tell him as I toss my gear back in the bed of my truck. “Come out when you get off work.”

He grins at me. “Sounds like a plan.”

I feel jittery and excited as I drive to the track. Today is just a practice day, so anyone who wants to pay the twenty dollar fee can ride at their leisure. Tomorrow is race night, and that’s a big ordeal. Hundreds of spectators will fill the stands to watch the races. Maybe I’ll go tomorrow. I haven’t been to a race in a while, either. It’s always fun and they have really good concession stand food since the guy who runs it also owns a BBQ restaurant.

I’m feeling pumped. And so, so ready to get on my bike.

I drive through the gates and find a spot to park. There’s a few dozen people here riding, which is a little more than usual since it’s still during the day and kids are in school and people are typically at work.

I strip down to my leggings and sports bra and then pull on my protective riding gear. I strap on my boots and unload my bike and start it up, letting the motor warm up.

Then I see a group of women walking by, all giggles and gushing as they look at their phones. “Oh my god, Zach is so hot,” one of them says, showing her phone to her friend.

“I think Jett is the hottest,” the friend says.

I look up.

Jett? Zach? I know those names.

I look in the direction they just came from and see a small group of people huddled around a white Chevy truck. I see Aiden first. He’s standing next to three other guys, smiling big to take pictures with fans. It’s Team Loco in the flesh. What the hell are those guys doing here?

And furthermore, why is Aiden wearing riding gear?

I drop my gloves on my truck’s tailgate and I trek over there. Aiden’s eyes meet mine over the crowd of adoring fans and I crook my finger at him and say, “Can we talk?”

He excuses himself and walks over. I love the way his riding pants hang low on his hips, the way his Team Loco race jersey fits against his chest. Only after admiring him do I realize the colors are all wrong.

“Hey,” he says, all smiles and good looks that make my knees want to buckle.

I grab his shoulder and turn him slightly, confirming my guess. Yep. Jett’s last name is printed on the back of this jersey. “Why are you wearing Jett’s gear?” I ask.

Aiden looks as guilty as a little kid who just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. “The guys came down to visit me for a few days and, well, they’re gonna ride for a bit.”

I put my hands on my hips. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He bites down on his bottom lip and gives a little shrug. “I wanted to ride a bit. Just for fun—” he says, holding out a hand as if to stop my refusal. “Just putt around the track slowly. Just for fun.”

I roll my eyes. “You can’t be riding yet! Your wrist just got out of a cast one day ago.”

His lips twist up into a grin. He steps a little closer and I feel my whole body tingle. “It’s cute that you’re worried about me.”

I have the sudden urge to kiss him. And I hate myself for it.

I push him playfully in the stomach. “You should be careful.”

“I’m always careful, babe.”

Heat flushes to my cheeks. This can’t be happening. I can’t be falling for him again. It’s pointless. It’s reckless. It’s stupid.

Aiden’s playful expression turns stone cold in the blink of an eye. I realize he’s looking behind me, and I stiffen. Only one person I know has that effect on him.

“Look who’s back to riding again,” Jay says, a bitter laugh escaping him. I don’t know if he’s talking about me or Aiden, but I do know that things are about to get very uncivil around here.