Page 68 of Sing For Me

“Everything okay?”

“Marissa’s mom sprained her ankle,” I explain. “But it sounds like she’ll be okay.”

He’s still studying me too closely. “There’s an appointment she doesn’t want you to go to alone?”

“Just my physical therapy this afternoon. It’s no biggie.”

Except I fucking hate PT. Hate being poked and prodded. Hate the reminder of my physical limitations, all the reminders from the therapist that I need to make up my mind about surgery soon. Hate the exercises that bring me so much pain, reminding me of how I got the injury in the first place. I very rarely go alone—Marissa is almost always there, or one of our friends.

“I could go with you,” Will says, and I freeze with an onion ring halfway to my mouth. “I don’t have any clients this afternoon.”

I set the onion ring down, studying him. “It’s really not a big deal, Will. I can handle one appointment by myself.”

His eyes narrow. “But you don’t want to go by yourself. I can tell. And from the way Marissa was arguing with you, she doesn’t want you to go alone either.”

Idon’twant to go by myself. But I also don’t want to go withhim. I don’t want Will to realize just how screwed up my hip and leg still are. I don’t want him to see me weak and sweaty while I try to do normal activities most people wouldn’t blink at.

I don’t want him to see my scars.

“Hey.” He reaches across the table to nudge my hand. “We’re friends, right?”

Friends. Just friends. Meaning I don’t need to worry about embarrassing myself in front of him, not any more than I would with Marissa or Geoff or any of them. I’m not supposed to be trying to impress Will Ransome.

“Yeah,” I mutter, even though friendship is the last thing on my mind when I meet his intense, steady eyes.

“This is the kind of things friends would do.” Before I can argue or agree, he grabs the basket from me. “Friends also aren’t supposed to hog all the onion rings.”

I find myself smiling in spite of the worry settling in the pit of my stomach at the idea of PT with Will. “You started it,” I point out, and then, before he can stop me, I reach over and pluck the last onion ring from the basket.

* * *

Therapy isevery bit as demanding as I expected. By the time I’m finished, I’m sweaty, aching, and grumpy. Grumpy enough that I forget to be embarrassed about Will witnessing it.

To my surprise, he was actually a really good partner for my appointment. He didn’t baby me the way Luke and Geoff sometimes do. Instead, he kind of had this sexy drill sergeant thing going on. And whenever I would finish a particularly hard set, his rigid, bossy expression would soften into something that looked an awful lot like pride.

I like him looking at me that way.

Idon’tlike him sitting next to me at the end of the session when the PT calls me to her office to discuss our next steps. But it feels rude to ask him to leave after he just spent his afternoon helping me.

“How’s the swelling been this week?” Beth asks once Will and I are seated across from her.

I force myself not to look at him, not to wonder what he’s thinking about all of this. “Um, pretty much the same as usual.”

She studies my face, waiting for me to elaborate. I grit my teeth. “Pretty swollen by evening most days. Worse if I’ve done a lot of walking or standing around.”

She nods, marking her chart. “Your doctor is still planning surgery next month?”

Next to me, I feel Will turn his head, feel the heat of his gaze studying the side of my face. I swallow. “My team is hoping to postpone.”

Beth’s eyebrows go up. “Your team? I was under the impression Dr. Bedi and I are members of your team.”

Heat is rushing to my face. “I meant my, um, management team. My label. They were hoping I might be able to get some work done before the next surgery.”

The only sound in the room is that of Beth’s pen hitting the chart in front of her in slow, rhythmic taps. “Have you spoken to Dr. Bedi about this plan?”

I squirm in my seat, knowing Will is staring at me just as intently as the therapist. “Not yet.”

“I see.” Beth watches me for another long moment. “I know this lengthy recovery hasn’t been easy. But pushing yourself beyond your physical capabilities isn’t going to help you.”