Page 33 of Just One: Box Set

Chapter Seven

I t’d been a little over six weeks since Phillip’s leg injury, and she knew he was eager to get his cast off.

Of course, neither of them had spoken about the mind-blowing sex they’d had two weeks ago.

At his checkup four weeks ago, Dr. Spencer was pleased with how fast his leg seemed to heal and was confident he’d have it come off at the six-week mark, which was today.

She parked the car and turned to face him. “Hang on, I’ll come around and hand you your crutches.”

Phillip snagged her hand before she could climb out. “Amy.” She glanced back at their joined hands. “Are you ok?”

She knew what he was asking. She’d intentionally kept distance between them, only helping him move around. She had been avoiding this conversation, but it seemed he was done letting her. “Now’s not the time to talk about it, Phillip. Please.”

He let go of her hand and huffed. “Fine.”

Phillip snatched the crutches from her hands and hoisted himself out of the car.

He hastened across the parking lot, stopping only to let her open the door to the waiting room.

Phillip had mastered using the crutches like a pro, practically running from her when the nurse came and got him for X-rays.

Amy figured he attacked everything with determination like he did with soccer—like he did with her.

Her body flushed at the brief thought of him buried inside her.

“Amy?” Dr. Spencer interrupted her thoughts. “You feeling ok? You look flushed.”

Her gaze moved to Phillip, who’d just returned from x-ray and was staring at her blankly. “No… I’m fine. I was just lost in thought about stuff. Everything go ok, Phillip?”

Nodding, she watched as he hobbled to the bed and situated himself on it. “The x-rays should be back promptly. Once I look at it, I’ll know where you stand. How has the leg been feeling?”

“Pretty good. I only need Tylenol to manage the aches.”

Dr. Spencer glanced over at Amy, surprise marring his face. Most patients would still be taking the prescribed pain meds, but Phillip didn’t like them. He refused to allow anything to dull his system. “He’s been staying off of his leg? No falls or spills?”

“He, uh—he fell in the shower. Well, tipped out of his shower chair two weeks ago.”

He glanced back at Phillip. “How’d that happen? Wasn’t someone with you?”

“No.” Phillip shifted on the bed. “Amy gets me into the bathroom, and I do the rest. Didn’t figure her seeing me naked was professional.” He practically growled the last word, squeezing his hands into a fist as he glared at Dr. Spencer.

Dr. Spencer flicked his gaze between them. “I suppose not. Did you land on your cast?”

“Fortunately, no. I hit my right side, more like I slipped into a seated position on the tiled floor.”

“Who helped you up?” Dr. Spencer narrowed his eyes at Amy. “You?”

“Hardly.” She snorted. “I called his brother, Damon, who came over and did that for me. I might be able to help him hobble from one place to another, but you see him, right? Phillip is a big guy. I would have fallen on him trying to get him up.”

Dr. Spencer glared at her, his expression narrowing on her with suspicion in his eyes. “I imagine you’d have no trouble getting him up if need be.”

Amy bit back a laugh. “I didn’t have any trouble. Well… technically Damon didn’t.” If he only knew how easily she’d gotten him up, he would be pissed. Amy’s core pulsed at the reminder—damn her body.

A nurse stepped into the room and mumbled something to Dr. Spencer, who in turned walked to the wall where a large flatscreen monitor hung. “Let’s look, shall we?” He flicked the screen on, and images of Phillip's leg appeared.

It was clear where he’d suffered a break, but the pins Dr. Spencer had placed seemed to be healing with the bone nicely.

Dr. Spencer seemed to study the X-ray for a few moments before he turned to Phillip.

“I think the cast can come off, and we will trade it out for a soft splint. You can start some simple exercises with him, but no weight bearing for two weeks. Then the real therapy can start. Any questions?” Dr. Spencer waited for a response.

When Phillip just nodded, he smiled. “Great. Hang tight. I’ll go get the tools and your splint. ”

Once he was out of the room, Amy smiled. “Well… looks like you’re halfway there, Cross. Soon you’ll be kicking that soccer ball around and this will be a distant memory.”

Phillip knew exactly what she was implying.

She would be a distant memory—but Amy was dead wrong.

A memory was the last thing she’d become.

Amy sat down in the chair, watching as Dr. Spencer removed the cast. His leg was shriveled and had lost some definite muscle mass, but not so much that it looked puny.

In fact, seeing him without the cast made her mind take a turn into dirty thoughts.

She could just imagine him over her, his powerful thighs flexing as he hammered into her from above.

“Amy?” Phillip furrowed his brows at her. “You alright over there?”

Amy flicked her eyes up to his, realizing she was biting down on her lip. She flicked out her tongue, licking her bottom lip. He cocked an eyebrow, a slow grin consuming his face. He knew exactly what she’d been thinking, making her blush under his gaze.

“Um… yeah. I’m good. He nearly done? I think he’s going to need a shower to get the stench off his leg.”

Phillip let out a bark of laughter. “Thanks for that, Ames. I can’t help it stinks like a rotten egg.”

Dr. Spencer helped secure a soft splint around his leg. This one fit snuggly around his joggers, meaning he’d be able to wear something other than loose fitting sweats. Even though it was December, the temperatures were uncharacteristically warm.

“Alright, a little weight is fine, but not your whole body, ok? I’ll see you back in two weeks to make sure the break is still healing like it should, at which time you’ll likely start adding in more strenuous exercises.”

“Am I able to take this off or does it stay on all the time?”

“Nope. If you’re in bed, awake, it can come off for short breaks. Otherwise, keep it on. Obviously, you can take it off to shower but use the chair until you can put more weight on it.”

“Thanks doc.” Phillip grinned, standing with the use of his crutches. “Let’s go grab some lunch… I’m starved.”

“Amy, can I speak with you a moment?” Amy cringed, knowing he was about to give her the third degree. Glancing at Phillip, she forced a smile.

“Go wait in the car.” She handed him the keys, not wanting him to get cold while he waited. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Are you sure?” Phillip glanced between them. His expression was displeased with her obvious quick dismissal of him.

Nodding her head, she turned and followed Dr. Spencer down the hall. “What’s this about Brian?”

“What’s going on between you two?” He pinned her with a look that left her uncomfortable.

Amy twisted her hands in front of her. “What exactly are you asking me? Because it sounds an awful lot like you might be accusing me of something. And if that were the case, this conversation is over.”

He blew out his breath. “Look. I’m sorry, but I see how he looks at you, Amy. Anyone would have to be blind, not too.”

“And how does he look at me?”

Brian held her gaze as if he were searching for something. “Like a man who's in love.”

Amy snorted. “You’re an idiot. Phillip isn’t in love with me, Brian.

And even if he was, I wouldn’t go there.

For several reasons.” Even saying it out loud made her chest constrict.

She was lying to herself in more ways than one, but Brian didn’t need to know that.

“If there isn’t anything else, Phillip is waiting for me out in the car. ”

She pivoted on her heel and left him standing in the hallway.

Having to deal with him was annoying as hell.

When she ended their relationship, she hadn’t planned on dealing with him again.

Her boss had pretty much allowed her to deal with clients directly instead of their provider.

But this wasn’t a normal case and having to subject herself to his company was part of the course.

She’d be glad when Phillip’s need to visit him lessened, because if she had to deal with his asinine assumptions again, she was certain she’d blow.

Phillip was already seated inside her SUV. He had his head leaned back against the headrest but must’ve heard her since his window was down. He straightened, his head moving in her direction. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah… douche canoe—I mean, Dr. Spencer just wanted to give his opinion of our non-existent relationship. He’s convinced there’s something going on, but I think I squashed his train of thought.

Brian—Dr. Spencer,” She corrected herself, not wanting to make it so intimate by using his name, “Is just butt hurt because I won’t let him back in my life.

I’m sorry, by the way.” Amy slid into the driver's seat and closed the door.

“Sorry for what exactly?” Phillip turned toward her in his seat.

Amy cranked the engine and paused. “My relationship with Dr. Spencer—rather… my former relationship with him—should not have any place in your recovery.”

“Amy.” Phillip’s stern tone made her glance in his direction. “Hear me when I say this… I don’t give a flying fuck about Dr. Brian Spencer’s opinion of us. His job was to put my leg back together, and he did… what happens between us now is none of his business.”

“Good thing the only thing happening is physical therapy, then.”

Amy reversed the car, ending the conversation there.

As much as she enjoyed hearing him get so worked up about her ex, she didn’t need him to mistake her appreciation for more.

Keeping him at bay since they’d crossed the patient-therapist boundary made it hard enough.

If he had any inkling how his heated devotion to her made her feel, he’d never relent in trying to convince her to break the line she’d drawn in the sand.

Sleeping with him once was a mistake… doing it again would be career suicide.