Page 34 of Just One: Box Set

Chapter Eight

A my was relieved when his brother offered to take him to his doctor’s appointment to check his leg since having the cast off.

She didn’t have the energy to deal with Brian again, plus she needed some time away from Phillip.

He’d become way more mobile with the soft brace, making it easier to deal with him only during his physical therapy sessions.

Sessions that manly dealt with her massaging the muscle and helping him flex his leg.

The sound of the door opening made her lift her head from her laptop.

She’d gotten behind in her final project, but having time to herself these last few weeks, Amy finished it.

Hitting the summit button on the project, Amy closed her lid and stood.

Damon strolled in, smiling as she greeted them at the door.

When Phillip stepped in behind him, absent the brace and holding only a cane for support, she smiled.

“Wow… look at you!” She pushed the door closed behind them. “You look like a new man. How’s it feel to move around without that brace?”

Phillip's grin was infectious as he turned to face her. “It’s fucking amazing. After being confined in the cast for six weeks, then the fucking brace for another three, I’m ready to hit the therapy hard—can we start tonight? Dr. Spencer said it was fine.”

Amy glanced at Damon, who was holding back his laughter. He gave her a little shrug. “Alright. I see you’re going to drive this woman crazy, so I’ll take that as my cue to go. Call me if you need anything.”

Damon pulled Phillip into a hug, tipping his head at her as he ducked out the door and left. “Well?” Phillip stepped into her personal space. “You ready to work me hard?”

Her breath hitched at his comment. While she knew what he meant, it held far more meaning in her head. “Sure. I need to go get changed, as should you. Put something on you can easily move in. And tennis shoes. I’ll meet you in the work-out room.”

After changing, Amy mustered the strength and headed toward the home gym.

It wasn’t huge by any stretch of the imagination, but it suited its purpose.

She stepped inside to find Phillip stretching his leg out.

He was wearing a pair of athletic compression leggings that did little to hide his perfectly sculpted ass.

His thigh muscles flexed as he moved. His shirt was a sleeveless t-shirt, putting his lean, muscular arms on display. This man had zero body fat on him.

Phillip must have felt her presence, because he dropped his foot from its perch and turned to face her.

His eyes roamed over her body, the way his pupils dilated told her he liked what he saw.

For a soccer player, standing at six-one, Phillip was tall.

Compared to her, he dwarfed her five-foot seven frame.

She was wearing a pair of Nike leggings and a compression top that molded her body.

Her ample breasts were tucked into a sports bra, but even that did little to hide the curve of her double-d boobs.

Amy always hated having a large bosom, but the way he was looking at her now—she didn’t despise them. Clearing her throat, she motioned toward the treadmill. “How about we start with that? I want you to begin with a brisk walk, and if you feel like you can handle more—a light jog.”

“What are you going to do?” Phillip quirked a brown at her.

Amy smiled. “I’m going to stretch you out first. Lie on the floor over on the yoga mat.”

Phillip cut his eyes to where she’d been pointing and grinned. This meant she had to touch him, and he wasn’t sad about that notion. He ambled over and took a seat on the floor. Amy stepped in front of him. “Alright on your back.”

Phillip happily obliged and laid down. Amy grabbed his good leg and, while keeping it extended, pressed it toward his stomach.

The stretch was intense, but nothing he wasn’t used to doing for soccer.

She continued bending and stretching his leg before setting it down and moving to his injured one.

Her fingers tentatively danced along his calf, pressing and prodding as she did.

Kneading his muscles, Amy continued up to his thigh.

There was nothing to stop the moan of pleasure that escaped his lips. “Sorry… but it feels so fucking good.”

“It’s supposed to. I need your muscles in this leg to be extra pliable.

We don’t need you to hurt yourself on the first day of strenuous activity.

” Her knuckles brushed against the bulge in his shorts, making him suck in a breath.

Ignoring the way it made her body react, Amy grabbed his ankle and lifted his leg into it.

With his sole facing the ceiling, she slowly eased his leg forward.

“Tell me if anything hurts.”

Phillip closed his eyes, willing his cock to stay down. The last thing he needed was for his body to embarrass him. Grunting when pain ricocheted through his leg, Amy stopped pushing. “That, ok?”

“A little painful.” He admitted. “But don’t stop. I need you to push past my pain. It’s the only way I’ll get back to myself.”

Amy sighed, letting his leg drop to the floor. “It doesn’t work that way. Let’s try the treadmill.”

She stepped back, extending her hand to help him up. “I’m going to go call Dr. Spencer and see if there are any changes needed in your plan. I should have done that to start with… but walking should be fine.”

After setting Phillip up for a light walk, she hurried from the room.

Seeing him in those athletic pants was driving her mad.

It didn’t help that she could see the start of his erection taking hold.

After quickly talking with Brian’s physician assistant, she was satisfied that he could be on his own.

Telling him it was time to leave was going to hurt, but it would be for the best if she only have to deal with him at the center—where she could keep it professional.

If he stayed here much longer, she knew she’d be caving.

Phillip sat across from Amy as she piled his plate full of spaghetti. They were still wearing their work out gear, both in need of a shower. Amy had pushed him harder than he thought she would, so they were both glistening with a sheen of sweat.

“I think we can safely move your sessions to the therapy center, Phillip.”

He sat quietly, knowing what it really meant—and he hated it. “I guess that means I can go home.”

“Yeah.” She smiled, but the grin didn’t reach her eyes. “I think it’s for the best. The holidays are coming, and we’ll be spending them with our families. I’m sure your sister will want you to spend some time with her and Archer.”

Phillip took his last bite and shoved the plate away. “I’ll go pack my things.” He shoved back from the table and stood. Grabbing the cane he used for support, he turned to leave.

“Wait… Phillip, I didn’t mean right this second.” Amy stood, moving around the table.

He glanced over his shoulder, forcing himself to do the last thing he wanted.

“No… I can tell I’ve outstayed my welcome.

I’m grateful to you for taking me in, Amy.

Letting me stay with you for two months is beyond kind of you.

But you’ve made it abundantly clear you want this to stay professional—even though we’ve already crossed that line.

And since you’re desperately trying to erase the breach, leaving now is exactly why I should. I’ll call my brother for a ride.”

Amy watched him disappear down the hallway.

She couldn’t help but feel guilty about hurting him, but this was the right thing to do…

wasn’t it? The pain in her chest had her second guessing herself as she cleared the plates.

She busied herself washing them when a knock at the front door startled her.

She wasn’t shocked to find Damon on the other side. “Hey, Damon.” She stepped aside and waved him in. “I didn’t think you’d get here that fast.”

“I was in the area when he called. So… you’re kicking him out.”

Amy closed her eyes, praying like hell he wouldn’t see the real emotion she was feeling. “It’s for the best.”

“You’re wrong, Amy. Phillip shared a little with me, as did Allison. I know your last boyfriend did a number on you, but Phillip isn’t him.”

“I know that.” She snapped, pissed at his insinuation she had been comparing him to Brian.

“Do you? Then is it the age difference?” Damon folded his arms across his chest. “Is that what has you keeping your distance? Because I can see how he looks at you.”

“Of course, his age doesn’t matter. And what do you mean how he looks at me?” Amy held her breath. Brian had already mentioned this to her, so his next words didn’t shock her at all.

“Please… tell me you don’t see what I see.”

She shook her head, refusing to admit what he was insinuating. “I can’t give him what he wants. He’s young, sure… but that’s not it at all. Phillip will move on to the next woman—he could have anybody he wanted.”

“He wants you, Amy. My little brother has fallen in love with you.”

She blinked away the tears pooling in her eyes. “Well, I don’t feel the same.” The lies burned in her throat, and she knew Damon could see them. She was about to take her words back when Phillip’s voice cut through the tension. “You ready, Damon.”

Amy flicked her eyes to Phillip, who’d heard what she’d said. “Phillip.” She stepped toward him, but he held up his hand.

“Don’t.” He moved toward the door Damon held open and paused. “I’ll see you tomorrow for my session. Thank you again for all you’ve done, Amy.”

“Phillip, please. Let me explain what you heard.”

But he’d already made it out the door and to the car where he stood waiting for Damon. Damon turned, giving her a sympathetic look. “Amy, I’ll talk to him. But can you do me a favor?”

Amy rubbed her eyes, pinching her nose to keep her tears from bursting free. “Yeah.” She whispered, still refusing to lift her head.

“Think about why you’re fighting it.”

“Fighting what?” She snapped her head up to meet his sympathetic gaze.

Damon chuckled. “You know what. A woman who doesn’t feel something for a man beyond friendship wouldn’t look like she’s about to burst into tears.

” She averted her eyes again, not able to speak.

“He’s a good guy with a big heart. You’ve kept him from falling into despair over the loss of soccer…

more than any other physiotherapist would do. That must mean something.”

Damon closed the door behind himself, leaving Amy and moving toward the car where his brother stood waiting. “Unlock the damn doors, please.”

“You sure you want to leave it like this?” Damon ticked his head toward the closed door.

Phillip stared at the wooden barrier and nodded. “I need some time to think, Damon. I’m in love with her and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending she’ll eventually feel the same.”

“You’re an idiot.” Damon climbed into the car and waited.

Phillip cut his gaze to his brother. “Excuse me? You’re saying I should keep setting myself up for her continuous rejections?”

Damon shook his head. “Phillip, I know you took a hard hit on the field, but please tell me you see it.”

“See what exactly?”

“That woman is in love with you… but for whatever reason, she’s terrified to admit it to herself.”

Phillip sucked in a breath. “You think she’s in love with me?” He glanced back toward the house as Damon backed the car out of her driveway—momentarily wondering if he was making a mistake.

“Yeah…the way she looks at you isn’t easy to hide. And if you’re really in love with her, you best not give up. Because if you do, you’re not the man I thought you were.”

Phillip didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He was still reeling at Damon’s assessment of Amy. How had he missed her feelings like that? Had he been so wrapped up in his own head that he’d overlooked the obvious? Closing his eyes, he leaned back into the seat and sighed.

“I’m not a quitter, but she’ll have to make the next move. I won’t push her anymore.”

“There’s my brother. Just think of this as the MLS Cup.

You bided your time and worked your ass off in soccer to accomplish that…

granted, you got hurt, but you won what you set out to.

Amy is—” Damon’s voice became wistful. “Worth a little pain for a chance at winning her love—and that’s a win worth going for. ”