“The CIA trained you to do this, didn’t they?” I squeezed my eyes shut, not even caring that a hot tear slid free. I didn’t bother wiping it away. My hands were too busy gripping the edge of the table.
“We’ve talked about this,” Janet deadpanned. “They have the best physical therapy training in the world. Come on—two more.”
I glared up at her, then held my breath as I obediently bent my leg again. “Son of a . . .”
“It’ll get better the more you strengthen the muscles,” she said. “It hurts because it’s all atrophied from lack of use.”
“Tell that to the doc who wouldn’t let me use them,” I muttered.
She laughed softly. “You’d be hurting a lot more if you had.”
I was about to grumble something, but as she and I straightened my leg, the ache in my muscles shut me up. “Is it supposed to hurt more than when the bones were broken?”
“Soft tissue will do that,” she said sympathetically. “We’re moving muscles and ligaments that haven’t moved in a long time. Just be patient.”
“Patient. She says be patient.” I hissed as I bent my knee again. “Fuuuck.”
My torture session ended twenty minutes later. Thank God I didn’t have to wear the plaster cast anymore—it was a lot easier to take a shower without that little fucker. After that session, I needed a shower too. Sex didn’t make me sweat that much, for fuck’s sake.
With some more swearing and cursing Janet’s name, I changed out of my PT gear and into my uniform. On the way to the car, I regretted not bringing my crutches with me. They were going to have to come to my next few appointments, I decided. I was just too sore to walk without support. I’d need them for my classes today too. Good thing they were still in my cubicle. Now I just had to get to my cubicle.
At the admin building, I swore up a storm as I got out of the car to head inside. Every time I moved, the pain was worse. It was like a gradient—my lower back and my hip were sort of painful, my thigh hurt like a motherfucker, my knee was on fire, and everything below that was being chewed by rabid demons. I promised myself right then and there, while I waited for the elevator to take me to the third floor, that once I was back to full mobility, I would never skimp on leg day again. There would never be another atrophied muscle in my body. Not if this was what it felt like afterward.
The elevator let me out, and I didn’t even try not to limp down the hall.
As I walked into the office, Sarah took one look at me and grimaced. “Sore?”
“Just a bit, yeah.” I dropped into my chair and sighed with relief. “Physical therapy sucks.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” she said. “I just got done with that shit after my car accident a few months back.” Another grimace, this time while she shook her head. “If I never have to do that again, it’ll be too soon.”
I grunted in agreement as I jammed my ID card into the keyboard.
“What classes do you have this afternoon?” Sarah asked.
I glared at my calendar. “One on basic first aid. One on arrest procedures for the MAs.”
Sarah and Logan exchanged looks.
“I can take the basic first aid,” he said. “The PowerPoint is pretty straightforward, isn’t it?”
I chewed my lip. “Yeah, it’s . . . it’s basically all there.”
“So read what’s on the screen?” He smiled. “I’ve got this. Just send me the document, and I’ll figure it out.”
“Well, if you’re sure . . .” I emailed him the PowerPoint, then pulled out the stack of handouts and took them around to his desk. “This is everything you need. And make sure everybody signs the muster sheet. They’re fucking terrible about it.”
Logan nodded, thumbing through the handouts. “Okay.”
“Are you sure about this?” I asked. “You haven’t had a chance to shadow any of us or—”
“It’s fine.” He gave my arm a squeeze. “It’s basic GMT. And I have been reading the PowerPoints on this stuff.”
“You have?”
“Uh, yeah. I wanted to be ready when you guys threw me to the wolves.”
I laughed quietly. Softer, so only he could hear, I added, “We’re going to have to take it easy tonight.”
“No shit.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Pizza and a movie. We’re good.”
I smiled down at him. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
“Dude. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been helping me out too, remember?”
“Yeah, but I’ve also been distracting you and keeping you from those.” I gestured at the banker’s box next to his desk. “You’re not getting behind because of me, are you?”
“I’ll be all right. Relax.”
I glanced at the box again. “Still, you want me to pick up some of that while you’re teaching?”
“You don’t have to.”
“No, but I don’t have anything else on my agenda for the day, and I kind of owe you.”
Logan shrugged. “I’m not going to say no if you really want to dig into that mess.”
“Seems like the least I can do at this point.”
With his back to Sarah and his body blocking her view of me, we exchanged smiles.
I’ll make it up to you, I mouthed.
He winked, and something in his expression said, I know you will.
After Logan left the office, I went back to my desk, dropped into my chair, and exhaled. That was two hours this afternoon that I wouldn’t have to spend on my feet. Logan was instantly eligible for sainthood in my eyes. He—
“I don’t know if I’ve said this,” Sarah mused without looking up from a folder in her hand, “but you two really make a sweet couple.”
My face was instantly hot and probably a hundred shades of red. “What?” I’d known she knew, but still.
She smothered a laugh. “Don’t even try to deny it, sweetie. I’ve seen the two of you swooning over each other.”
“What?” I scoffed. “I do not swoon.”
She snorted. Except I realized a second later it hadn’t been her.
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up, Diego.”
He laughed. “Then quit spewing bullshit out there.”
“Hey! Whose side are you on?”
“The side of truth, my friend.”
I stared incredulously at his cubicle wall. When I looked at Sarah, she was so gloating. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Let’s not broadcast it all over the building, though, all right?”
“Fine by me,” she said with a shrug.
“My silence isn’t free,” Diego called out.
I rolled my eyes, grabbed a staple remover off my desk, and chucked it at the wall behind his desk. It ricocheted, and Diego gave a satisfying yelp, followed by some grumbled swearing.
“So, about that silence?” I asked.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Pendejo . . .”
I chuckled and shifted my attention to getting some work done. It wasn’t easy—just sitting at my desk was excruciating. All those atrophied muscles coming to life were not happy about it, and I couldn’t have been more grateful to Logan for taking one of my classes for me. I’d be useless as an instructor right now. I was useless as just about anything.
Logan and I would have a low-key night tonight, but when my body felt like itself again? Oh, he’d know the meaning of the word gratitude.
“How did the class go?” I asked as Logan sat beside me on his sofa. I’d had another appointment this afternoon, and hadn’t been at the office when he’d come back.
“Not bad.” He handed me a soda. “I threatened two people with detention and told another I’d send a note home to his mom, so—”
I choked on the soda. “You didn’t.”
“Hey.” He put his hands up. “Fucker was being a smart-ass.”
I tilted my head. “Did it work?”
“Kinda, yeah. I mean, there were only fifteen minutes of class left at that point, but it was fifteen minutes of him not being a shithead.”
“Wow.” I chuckled. “I might have to remember that technique.”
He just laughed and took a sip from his soda. After a moment, he said, “I actually kind of like teaching. I think I could get into it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Once I get the hang of the material, I could see myself doing it for a while.”
“Good.” I rested my hand on his leg. “I can take it or leave it, but they definitely need some instructors who actually like doing it.”
He turned to me, head cocked a little. “I guess teaching is kind of . . . boring after what you’re used to.”
“Yeah.” I stared at my soda can, swallowing hard. Supposedly there would come a day when this wasn’t painful to think about, but that day wasn’t today.
“That’s gotta be hard. All of it.”
“Yeah, it is. I can’t even watch some of my favorite movies anymore.” I laughed bitterly. “Pisses me off too much to see all the shit I’ll never do.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I’m guessing we can’t watch a lot of the same movies.” For very different reasons. He didn’t say that last part out loud, but it might as well have been written across his forehead.
I gritted my teeth. No, I wasn’t going to read something into it that wasn’t there. He had his reasons for not watching certain kinds of movies, and that had nothing to do with me or what I’d never experience. I didn’t want to give the conversation a chance to go that route, though, so I said, “Well, I’ll never be a SEAL, but the doc says I can go back to active duty soon.” I grinned. “Maybe I can finally start being a goddamned Sailor instead of an office drone. Maybe even a soldier-like being.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that before. That’s . . . You think that’ll happen soon?”
“Probably. Leg’s healing. Don’t need surgery again like we thought I would.” I couldn’t help grinning bigger. “Doc thinks I’ll be able to start running before too much longer, and I’ll be back to full physical readiness by the end of the year.”
Logan’s features tightened. Subtly, but noticeably. “So you’ll . . . you really will be back on active duty soon.”
I nodded. Cringing inwardly, I waited, wondering how he’d respond to that. We both knew what it meant. Back to active duty meant back in the running for a combat deployment. No more dodging that bullet.
But then he swallowed and offered a faint smile. “Good. That’ll be good for your career. Kind of hard to get promoted when you’re benched.”
Guard still up, I said, “Yeah. And no more working behind a desk, thank God.” Beat. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed—”
“I know what you meant.” He laughed a little, but seemed kind of . . . uneasy.
I touched his arm. “What’s wrong?”
Logan dropped his gaze. “Just . . .”
“Talk to me.” I tipped up his chin so we were looking at each other. “What’s on your mind?”
He moistened his lips, then sighed. “Just thinking, when you go back to active duty, there’s no guarantee you’ll stay at Adams.”
I swallowed, heart sinking. “No, there isn’t. I mean, I can request orders here, but if there’s no billets available . . .”
“Exactly.” Logan searched my eyes. “So, what happens with . . .” He gestured at each of us.
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t.” I gave his thigh a gentle squeeze. “But it’ll still be a while, you know? We have time to figure out what this”—I mirrored his gesture—“actually is, and then we can decide what to do when the time comes.”
“True.” He nodded, and after a second, met my gaze. Another beat, and he managed a smile. “For the record, I really am happy for you. That your career’s getting back on track.”
“As much as it ever will, I guess.”
“Still.” He kissed my cheek. “But damn, this means I’ll have to break in a new office mate.” He sighed dramatically. “How ever will I cope?”
“I’ll blow you at night to make up for it.”
A laugh burst out of him. “Damn. You’re making this sound better and better.”
“Yeah?” I grinned, relieved we were getting away from topics that could turn into minefields. Sliding my hand higher up his thigh, I said, “I don’t have to wait until I’m back on active duty for that part, do I?”
“You’d better not.”
“Oh really?” I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Or what?”
“Or we won’t need any of those condoms we just bought.”
It was my turn to laugh out loud. “Okay! Okay! You win.” I put up my hands in surrender. “Anything but that.”
He chuckled, drawing me in closer. “That’s what I thought.”