Flustered on her first day. This was going to go well. Sophia shook her head and focused on her patient. Yes, her patient. Not the star defenseman she’d watched play for the Strikers for a few years now. She itched to sink her fingers into his longer than usual blond hair. It looked soft. Inviting.
This was a test. Dr. Anders worked with many elite athletes, and quite a few of the Strikers since her office was affiliated with the team. Sophia had to get used to putting her hands on star athletes and not wanting to strip them down to nothing when she did. Blond Tarzan was a steep test her first day in. She glanced up at the ceiling.
Couldn’t have started small? Maybe with someone slightly less delectable? Someone whose jersey I don’t have, or wear during every game—home and away?
She pushed back those thoughts. She was a professional. This was her job and ogling clients wasn’t going to get her far. Especially on her first day.
Finn shifted on the table, clearly uncomfortable, as Dr. Anders tested his flexibility and strength. Sophia typed in the measurements and notes that her boss called out. Served him right if he hadn’t taken it easy, like he should have. Stubborn man. Sophia refused to acknowledge how adorable he’d looked when Dr. Anders had called him out.
This was a problem, and one she’d never had before. He wasn’t adorable. He was a stubborn and injured athlete. Not to mention, a little gruff in his responses. Not that she fully blamed him for being irritated about the situation, but injuries were common with athletes. There’s no way he believed something like this couldn’t happen to him at some point.
“I’m not telling you not to work out, or to stay off that foot, but you need to be smart about it. You can use the recumbent bike, but not the upright one for at least a couple of weeks, and stay off the treadmill. We are going to give you a list of exercises you can do at home to correctly rebuild your strength in that ankle. And we are going to monitor your right leg, as well.”
“I didn’t break that one,” he muttered, and Sophia tried not to smirk. Seeing the giant get scolded was surprisingly enjoyable.
Shit.
“When people injure one leg or ankle, they tend to overcompensate with the other one, which can lead to a strain, and possible injury.”
He shifted on the table, his wariness clear. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sophia focused on the exercises and manipulation that Dr. Anders was doing on Finn’s ankle. His foot was only slightly swollen at this point.
“Okay, that’s good for today. Sophia will give you a list of exercises we want you to do at home,” Dr. Anders said.
“Yes. We have everything printed out for you.” Sophia grabbed the stack of paper and handed it to him. His fingers brushed against hers, and the sparks of heat that rocked through her needed to go the hell away.
She moved around the table to grab her tablet. Anything to not touch him or think about the fact that he’d pulled away from her just as fast as she had.
“Do you have any questions for us?” Dr. Anders asked, no hint in the woman’s voice that the room was buzzing with sexual heat.
Sophia must be imagining things.
“Not right now,” Finn said, that warm voice heating her up again. His freaking voice. Maybe she needed to get out and start dating again. It’d been a while, and nothing serious in years. Not since Tony. No. She didn’t want to think about that asshole, not now, or ever. She brushed her hand against her ribs. No. She refused to think about him.
She bit the inside of her cheek.
Focus on work. On the job you busted your ass to get. Not on Thor in a pair of loose athletic pants that stretched across his thighs. Jesus. Thighs that were the size of her head.
“Sophia, why don’t you set Eric up for his next few appointments.”
Sophia faced her boss, giving the woman a smile that hopefully didn’t relay her NSFW thoughts. Chris Hemsworth had always been her go-to fantasy, but he’d always seemed more flexible than the injured Thor on her table. They’d have to work on that.
Stop it.
He was her patient, not some Greek god. He’d probably look amazing in a cape. And his hammer… Sweet Jesus, she needed help.
“Of course,” she said, opening the calendar on her tablet.
“I’ll leave you with Sophia to get you set up for another appointment later this week. I’m thinking at least three times a week to start,” Dr. Anders said, before handing him her card. “And feel free to reach out to us if you need anything or have questions. Just don’t overdo it this week. I know you’re frustrated, but we’re going to get you back on the ice in time for the next season, as long as you follow our schedule. If you feel like you are rehabbing faster than we expect, we can re-evaluate at that point.”
Finn nodded his head. “Thanks Dr. Anders.”
“When do you want me?” he asked, those piercing eyes open and warm, as the door shut behind Dr. Anders.
Ah, hell.
Sophia attempted to not swallow her tongue, as she focused all her attention on the appointment calendar.
“Umm, we want to do three days a week. Would Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays work for you? Same time? Afternoons work best?” she asked, meeting his gaze and refusing to get lost in the pale blue depths. It was truly unfair that the man had lashes that long.
“Sure,” he said, glancing down at his phone to enter the appointments into his calendar app. “But I can come in more often.”
“So you can speed everything up?” she cut in.
“Can’t hurt.”
He didn’t even try to dispute her, but gave her a shrug.
“Actually, it can. If you overdo it, it can set you back. Trust Dr. Anders, Finn.”
“I know. I’ll see you on Wednesday, then,” he said, scooting to the edge of the table, ignoring her offered hand.
“Yes. And don’t—”
“Overdo it. Yeah, I got it,” he muttered, and reached for the crutch.
“Keep that foot elevated when you get home and the pain should fade,” she said, focusing on her tablet again and making a final note in his chart.
“Are you listing me as disagreeable?”
Her head shot up. “What?”
He motioned toward the tablet. “Patient shows signs of pigheadedness.”
She couldn’t stop her laugh. When he wasn’t a grump, he was charming. Maybe too charming, if her nerves were anything to go by.
“Of course not. I went with stubborn,” she teased. “Call us if anything comes up, and we will see you on Wednesday.”
After he said goodbye and the door shut behind him, Sophia sat down on the chair, still processing all of the emotions that had rolled through her during their ninety-minute session. That could not happen next time. No matter how appealing she found his gruff exterior or how his workout pants fit perfectly across his thighs.
She shook her head, entered her final notes, and headed toward Dr. Anders’ office. According to the schedule, she had one more patient to meet with. A woman who’d gotten a little overzealous in hot yoga and strained her back. Some people weren’t as flexible as they thought. That’s why Sophia stuck to jogging and the elliptical.
***
A few hours later, Sophia sat across from Dr. Anders as they went over her first day.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but our days are usually this busy. Sorry to just throw you in, but I find that’s the best way to see if you’ll sink,” Dr. Anders said with a laugh.
“I thought today went great.” She refused to show any signs of floundering, and aside from her inappropriate thoughts about Finn, today had gone well. A little overwhelming, but this office was much busier than the last one she’d worked in, and she’d known that when she’d applied for the position.
“It did. And we are glad to have you on board. Let’s see how the next week or two goes, and I might have you take over a few of our patients. You did well with Mr. Finnegan. Athletes, especially the pros, don’t want to be here, and they’re quite stubborn. Which is a quality I believe all top athletes need to stay in competitive form. Working with athletes can be frustrating at times, but helping them heal and get back to pursuing their dreams is worth it.”
Sophia couldn’t agree more. That’s why she wanted this career. And she’d take on any stubborn athlete that complained through their exercises and treatments to be a success in a field she loved. That was her dream, after all.
Finn settled on the chair in the exam room Wednesday afternoon and drummed his fingers on his thigh. He stretched out his leg, ignoring the slight throb. He’d given Kenny, his dog walker, yesterday off and had taken Bash for a short walk. He’d wanted to get his legs moving, but Bash was a puppy, and as obedient as he was, he pushed for a grueling pace. A pace that wouldn’t have fazed Finn before.
It fucking sucked.
He’d iced his ankle as soon as they’d returned home, but it ached. He’d spent the rest of the night on the couch, after cancelling his plans with the guys, even though he’d needed a beer or three. What he didn’t need was the chirps. Cheesy had been practicing. The latest had centered around Finn needing skinny jeans for his shrinking leg.
He brushed off chirps all the time—he was a hockey player, after all—but he hadn’t been in the mood to joke around.
There was a soft knock on the door, and Finn barked out for them to enter as he straightened up on the chair. At least he’d left the crutch at home.
“How are we doing today, Finn?” Dr. Anders asked, and entered the room, with Sophia behind her.
He was determined not to spend the appointment fixated on the PT assistant. He would not think about how pink her cheeks had been during their last appointment. Or how he itched to tease her for reasons he couldn’t explain.
Maybe she was a welcome distraction from his pity party.
“Not bad. Ready to get started,” he said.
“No soreness?” Dr. Anders asked.
“Of course there’s soreness. But it’s manageable,” he muttered, wanting to get the appointment over with. With each one down, he got closer to getting back on the ice.
They briefly went over what exercises caused the most pain, and he mentioned walking with Bash, leaving out how exuberant his puppy was. Or how difficult it was to keep up with Bash’s pace in the damn boot.
When Dr. Anders gestured for him to get on the exam table, he removed the walking boot and gingerly hopped up, refusing their help. He could get up on a damn table. She rolled up his pant leg and pressed against his ankle, testing his mobility. He held back a grunt of pain when she found a particularly tender spot, but her narrowed eyes told him that she hadn’t missed his flinch.
He spent the next fifteen minutes going through stretches with Dr. Anders, while Sophia typed on her tablet. He’d caught her gaze a few times and refused to think about what her soft smile did to his insides. He turned his attention back to his ankle just as Dr. Anders stepped back.
“Okay. Your ankle looks good. There’s some swelling, but that’s normal. I want to get you on our exercise floor. I think we’ll start with the stationary bike and then work on balance and putting your full weight on your ankle. Sophia is going to lead you through everything, and I’ll check back with you at the end. We want you to push yourself, but if something is too painful, you need to tell us.” She pinned her gaze on him. “You really need to tell us. I don’t want to hear the I’m stubborn excuse again. We are here to help. Don’t think I missed your flinches these past twenty minutes.”
“I can take it.”
“I have no doubt, but further aggravating your injury will just make it worse.” Her look would brook no argument, even if he wanted to maintain that he knew what he was doing.
“I’ll let you know if anything is extra painful,” he said, unwilling to give her anything else.
“Good,” she said, before turning to Sophia. “Start with the bike, then the Bosu. Finish up in here with resistance bands and EMS.”
“Ready?” Sophia asked, after Dr. Anders left the room.
“As I’ll ever be,” he muttered, and followed her out of the office, refusing to focus on her ass as she walked in front of him.
What the hell was his problem? Yes, she was gorgeous, but she was also helping him rehab. He had to stop thinking about her in any other capacity.
Then he plowed right into her as she stopped. His hands grabbed her waist to keep upright, and she gasped in shock. He felt the slight tremor under his touch.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling back immediately, cursing himself for not paying attention, and then cursing himself again as his ankle throbbed when he’d stepped back quickly.
“It’s fine,” she said, pushing open the door to the gym. “But you should pay attention to where you’re walking. We wouldn’t want you to reinjure yourself and delay your timeline.”
He didn’t miss the scolding tone of her voice—hell, he deserved that—but it was the flush in her cheeks when she turned to face him that intrigued him. He affected her, and that shouldn’t excite him, but he wanted to feel her under his touch again.
“Let’s start on the recumbent bike,” she said, gesturing across the room, turning his focus back to what mattered.
“Wouldn’t the upright bike be better? To test the pressure on my ankle.” He hated recumbent bikes. He might as well be lying on the damn floor.
“We’ve already talked about this, and don’t worry, we’ll get there soon,” she said. He tried to not let his frustration show as he slid onto the bike.
“Let’s do fifteen minutes. Slowly increase your speed, but don’t strain yourself.”
He settled back and started peddling. “Yes, I know,” he said. Hopefully he wouldn’t fall asleep on the damn thing.
Sophia was still trying to catch her breath as she leaned against the wall next to Finn’s bike. Holy crap, how was she supposed to keep it together after he’d grabbed her waist?
She shook her head and focused on his pace. She was here to do a job. And that was it—no matter how many times she reminded herself that Finn was a player she’d followed for years. Or how his grumpiness turned her on more than it should.
“Slow down,” she said, spotting his current speed. “This isn’t a race.”
“I know,” he muttered, slowing down.
“One minute left, and then we’ll work on your balance.” She focused on his face, looking for any signs of discomfort when he walked away from the bike, but he held his body stiff, his expression neutral. Balancing on the Bosu ball would test him more than anything they’d worked on before.
After a minute, he moved to the stability ball.
“Let’s start with both feet on it, and then we’ll move to just your injured foot,” she said, holding her arm out if he needed support.
He muttered something.
“What was that?”
“I don’t need your arm. I can stand on this thing on my own.”
“Stop fighting me at every turn. I get it. Injuries suck, but we are here to help you recover.” She held her ground with him. It was the only way he would learn to trust her. And that trust would help him rehab correctly.
He stepped onto the Bosu and wobbled, but he held strong, his knees shaking briefly before he gained his footing.
“Okay. Now lift your good leg,” she said, ignoring his bristle when she stretched out her arm again. He could balk all he wanted, but he’d be grateful it was there if he lost his balance.
He slowly lifted his right leg, his eyes focused on the mirror in front of him, and not on his feet, which was a good sign. When you stared at your feet, you tended to lose your balance.
His ankle shook, and a few curse words slipped free before he dropped his right foot back down, his hand gripping the wall next to him.
“It’s going to take time. Let’s do this a few more times, see how long you can stay off that right foot, and then we’ll move on to something else,” she said as he rolled his shoulders back and lifted his foot again.
They continued for another five minutes. He wobbled every time, his right foot coming back down as his mouth tightened. She could only imagine the profanity ripping through his head right now, but she was grateful none of it slipped past his beautiful lips.
Dammit. Now she was the one holding back curse words.