Page 12 of Extended Bridge (Passionate Beats #2)

His ask does make me feel all fuzzy inside.

Something I haven’t felt in a long time, since I was dealing with patients.

Darren’s death altered my trajectory. I no longer was able to be in the field—I was out of my mind with grief and guilt.

The need to be an administrator, opening ten clinics, called out to me.

A promise I made to Darren at his grave.

Another man says hi to Jeb, and I’m introduced to him as well as five more guys on the crew.

While we’re talking, I keep watching the stage to ensure Bennett doesn’t do some other careless move.

He doesn’t. Another woman joins us, introducing herself as Nese Dalton, the band’s stylist. She’s the one to whom Bennett waved when he got the leather pants.

“I like what you’ve got them wearing,” I note .

She beams. “Thanks. I don’t veer too far from their natural styles. Give them a bit of polish, you know.”

I nod, watching as Bennett strips off the jacket he was wearing to reveal a plain white tank top beneath. His buff arms make the ladies in the front row squeal. I tamp down the emotions rushing through my body begging to be wrapped in them again.

Never again.

Reset.

“So, what’s your deal? Are you here to do their makeup?”

“What?” I shake my head.

“I was trying to figure out your role here. The only thing I could come up with is makeup. However, other than some guyliner and powder, which comes off within the first ten minutes of them performing, they don’t wear much.”

I remember something Darren said. “A makeup crew is brought in for television and photo shoots. Otherwise, they’d be washed out.”

Nese’s eyes round. “So you are their makeup artist. Sly.”

“Actually, no, I’m not.” I was never warned not to tell the truth, so I go for broke. “I’m Bennett’s physical therapist.”

“Huh.” We watch him work the crowd, seemingly without a worry in the world. “He’s looking strong, so whatever you’re doing, I say keep it up.”

“Thanks.” Because I want to get to know this woman more, perhaps because she’s one of the few women on tour, I ask, “How difficult is it overseeing their image? I would think with five strong-willed men, your job resembles herding cats.”

“Nailed it!” She laughs. “To be honest, they’re not bad. Sometimes I pick out something and a guy’ll mutiny. I try not to take it too personally. I simply made a bad choice for him.”

“Healthy attitude.” I watch Bennett as he does a call and repeat with the audience, swaying in time with the notes. Every time he moves to the right, my breath hitches. I make a mental note to discuss alternative moves with him to better protect his muscle pull.

“Will you tour with us, or are you only here for this show? ”

Satisfied Bennett’s out of the danger zone, I focus on my new friend. “I’ll actually be on tour for the first three months, until Bennett’s fully healed.” After which I can go back home and concentrate on building my next two clinics.

“Nice. I’m from Georgia, how about you?”

“New York. Long Island, to be precise.”

“So this was a natural starting point for you.”

“I guess you could say that. How long have you been with UC?”

“This is my first go-round with them.” Her answer tells me why I didn’t meet her before and why she doesn’t know who I am. Or was. To Darren. “I assume you haven’t been with the band before either?”

My stomach plummets. I hope she doesn’t think badly of me, but I can’t see a way out of telling her the truth. I screw up my courage. “Actually, I was with the band a couple of years ago.”

“Oh. Who hurt themself back then?” She blinks several times. “Oh. Oh.” She plays with her hoop earring. Dropping her voice, she asks, “Are you the Black Widow?”

I flinch, then switch the script on the assholes who gave me this name. “While that’s what the media calls me, I prefer Jenna Westfield. I was the physical therapist who helped Darren rehab his wrist—and after he was deemed recovered, we started dating.” I extend my hand.

We shake. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tears prick my eyeballs. She’s the first person in years to offer me sincere condolences over losing Darren. I swallow. “Thanks.”

On the stage, Bennett roars a guttural note. With fear, I turn to watch what’s going on and am rewarded by seeing him leaning backward with the mic held upright. At least this sound wasn’t borne out of pain. I sag in relief.

“Oh, this is my cue. They’re going to pop backstage for a quick change of clothes before going back out for their encore. I better get into place. It was nice meeting you, Jenna. I look forward to hanging with you.”

“I’d like that. ”

She bolts to a table with the band’s change of clothes. A minute later, they bound off the stage. Well, all of them minus Bennett, who takes his steps carefully while stripping off his tank top. His body glistens, begging for my fingers to explore every divot.

To staunch the drool, I focus on the audience before me. They hold up signs I can’t read from here while continuing to celebrate UC. It warms my heart to see them welcomed back after their long break. Darren would be proud.

Bennett, now shirtless and dry, smiles at me. Guess he used his tank top as a towel. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I am. You guys are killing it.” He’s on a performance high, like all the band must be. Having thousands of people adoring you has to unleash rampant endorphins.

“High praise.” A crew member hands him a bottle of water, which he opens. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks the entire thing, some droplets landing on his chest. So much for the makeshift towel. I could offer my tongue as tribute.

“How long’s the encore?”

“We do another three songs, ending with ‘Crushing Blow.’”

Darren’s song. Which, if Untamed Coaster Unleashed was accurate, includes some new runs by Tristan. “Oh. Great.”

“It’s our most difficult song to play, but still so popular. We like to put it at the end to honor Darren.”

“I’m sure he’s playing along with you all up in heaven.”

“That’s what we think too.” Luke calls for him, and he gives a wave. “Gotta run.”

“Walk,” I chide.

His hand reaches toward me and I suck in my breath, awaiting our long-denied contact. I’m going to have to wait longer as he drops his arm to his side. “Not wasting my one and only hug when I don’t have time to savor it.” He stalks toward the band.

My heart hammers.

Working as a professional physical therapist to this man is going to be the biggest challenge of my life.