Page 18 of The Knockout Rule

“I promise you, I am serious. The phone notifications were an accident.” He wasn’t sure how his face looked, but she frowned and removed her hand from his arm. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but”—she sighed—“I signed up for a dating site right before our session, and the stupid app chimes when a guy reaches out. I tried to turn it off, but it was taking too long, and you were frustrated, which I totally understand. I’d be annoyed, too. So I left it, assuming I wouldn’t have eleventy million matches reaching out this early, and now I’m embarrassed and sorry and would love the ground to swallow me whole.” She slumped, covering her face with one hand.

He surprised himself by chuckling. He could add cute to her list of attributes: adept hands, beautiful face, adorable when embarrassed. Rude and judgmental on a whim. But she’d apologized earlier, and her actual physio work had been on point. If nothing else, he owed Graham enough to give her another chance. “Let me see your phone.”

She dropped her hand from her face. “What? No.”

“Do you want to silence the mating calls?”

She smiled. “Clever. I like that.”

One minute she was suggesting he was stupid, the next clever. “I’m good with apps and phones. Let me see it.”

“You’re not good with phones.”

“Are you calling me dumb again?”

“No, Rick Rosner. You’re far from dumb, but I saw you on the plane. You were struggling with something on your cell.”

Right. The plane. Where she’d ridiculed his intelligence. If that Rick Rosner comment was another jab, that would be her last chance. “I was installing a new firewall on my phone, and it was complicated. This is easy. And who’s Rick Rosner?”

“I thought you were smart.”

“I thought you wanted to keep this job.”

She smirked. “He’s a writer and former stripper.”

Fresh irritation had him standing taller. “And you called me Rick Rosner because?”

“He has a crazy high IQ. Like the second highest in the world. I read an article about him once, and your name rhymes with his, so…”

She spouted off this trivia casually, like it wasn’t a startling compliment, minus the stripping part. Clever. High IQ. The opposite of how most people saw him.

He used to think of himself as a showman, donning a persona for the press. Like a Shakespearean performer duping the audience. His fists did the talking in the ring. His family knew the heart of him. No one else had mattered. These days, the dumb jock image made him feel foolish.

He watched Isla’s face, searched for ridicule behind the comment. All he saw was good-natured teasing in the quirk of her lips, and he relaxed. Whit waddled away and lay down. Always attuned to the energy in a room.

Eric held out his hand toward Isla. “How about I silence your app?”

“Only if you don’t read my profile.”

“I don’t want to read your profile.” He hadn’t contemplated it, at least. Not until she’d told him not to. She probably liked Wall Street types who owned fancy yachts and luxury cars. The lavish lifestyle Swinging Graham Slade had provided for her growing up. It would jive with her whiplashy personality. Or maybe she was a closet Star Trek fan and loved cosplay and had a massive comic book collection. Wouldn’t that be something?

She hesitated, then fetched her phone and gave it to him.

While she went to find the ultrasound machine, he tapped through her settings. Silencing the app was as easy as predicted. He was done in seconds and flipped back to the home page. She had longer hair in her profile photo and looked incredibly happy. Her smile was disarmingly attractive, genuine and carefree. The opposite of her entrance earlier, when she’d seemed upset while leaning against the door. He hadn’t asked if someone had made her uncomfortable. He’d still been annoyed with her sarcastic jabs on the plane. His irritation had begun to fade, and he felt rude for not asking more.

Probably better he hadn’t meddled. He certainly shouldn’t read her profile now, as she’d asked, but it was right there, down the screen. And curiosity was a tempting devil. He scrolled lower, aware he was invading her privacy, but he had to work closely with this woman. Finding out some background might help him relax around her. Plus it was public information.

She wheeled the ultrasound machine next to the treatment table, plugged it into the wall. “You almost done?”

“I’ve saved you from your throngs of male suitors.” But not from his curiosity. He looked at the phone as he spoke, reading her profile before he could stop himself.

I love poetry. I love how words can build worlds and mean different things to different people. I prefer reading over watching Netflix. I consider myself a strong, independent woman, but I also appreciate a man with manners, who wants to hold a door open to be polite. Chivalry is not dead. Family, humor, and loyalty are my pillars of strength. I hate boxing.

“I’m ready when you are,” she said.

He startled and cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. Here you go.”

He handed back her phone and their fingers brushed. It was a tiny touch, but all he could think was poetry and reading and words can build worlds. If he’d read that profile, had seen that photo with the carefree smile and crinkled eyes, he’d have asked that woman out in a heartbeat.