Page 37 of The Ampersand Effect

“No, just get me home. I want to take an Epsom salt bath—see if it’ll calm this down. I’m gonna need your help upstairs, though.” And then, quieter, “And maybe out of my clothes.”

She was embarrassed, which only added to the tumultuous emotions swirling inside her. It wasn’t the nudity that bothered her— it was the weakness, the reliance. Her pride was hurt, and that made her feel vulnerable in ways she didn’t care to address.

“You’ve got some muscle relaxers, right? I don’t think a bath and ibuprofen are going to cut it, T. I can see the sweat on your brow, and your color’s off. You’re minimizing your pain.”

Tobin felt her body tense further at Harrow’s implied judgement. This was definitely more than a simple spasm. She knew she needed to address it before it turned into something worse—progressive issues, medical leave, maybe even surgery. She just didn’t want to go the route Harrow was on the verge of suggesting, the one that involved a certain gorgeous, amber-eyed chiropractor whose hands could soothe a weary soul as easily as a spasming back.

“Just get me into the bath, and we’ll see where things are after that. And, yes,” she added through clenched teeth, “I have some pills left.” Tobin ground her teeth so hard her jaw clicked.

Harrow, to her credit, didn’t press. But Tobin could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words on the tip of her sister’s tongue, taunting her. She could not call Grier. She had no right—no ground to stand on.

When they got home, Harrow helped her up the stairs and into her bedroom, depositing her on the bed before moving into the ensuite to start the large soaker tub. The sound of running water filled the silence between them, heavy and unspoken.

“How much Epsom salt do you want in here?” “The whole damn bag.”

Harrow reappeared a minute later, a glass of tap water in one hand and a pill in the other. She handed them to Tobin, who took the muscle relaxer and washed it down in one long gulp.

“I think I can manage my clothes without you,” Tobin said quietly.

“Sounds good. Text me if you need help getting out of the tub. I’ll just be in the living room.”

When the door clicked shut, Tobin sank slowly into the hot bath, coaching her muscles to relax. The wet heat wassoothing, and she could feel her muscles absorbing the relaxing magnesium from the salts. The muscle relaxer was hard at work, too. She numbly took notice of the effects as her mind conceded to the euphoria of the prescription drug.

Her mind began to wander, no longer in complete control of her own thoughts.

In that hazy calm, she felt phantom hands on her skin—Grier’s hands—gently caressing her low back, knowing exactly where to push, where to knead. Her body ached under the memory of it, as though her muscles craved her more than her heart dared admit.

She sank deeper under the water, continuing to imagine Grier’s hands on her body—roaming, exploring. The desire she’d been striving so diligently to suffocate over the last week flickered to life, quickly igniting and driving a recognizable ache into Tobin’s groin. She slipped too deep into the water and choked as it covered her face. Grabbing for the edge of the tub, she tried to pull herself upright, but her back spasmed in protest, and she screamed in pain.

Harrow was in the room within seconds. Tobin was heaving in agony, clinging to the side of the tub, gasping for breath—and failing to drive thoughts of the doctor from her mind.

“We’re done with this masquerade of strength,” Harrow said, exasperated, crossing her arms and cocking a hip. “You can call her, or I will. But one way or another, you’re seeing Grier tonight.”

A whisper of understanding rippled through Tobin’s mind as she accepted the inevitable. Harrow would win this argument—and Tobin no longer had the will to fight.

For the second time that night, she asked for her phone.

Her heart lodged in her throat as she listened to the phone ring, certain her call would be ignored just like the text she’d sent.

“Hello?” Grier’s voice on the other end of the line was tentative and reserved—not the bubbly, assertive voice Tobin had come to recognize as synonymous with the doctor’s personality. She loathed herself for causing that change, for deflating the spirit of this effervescent woman. Her free hand clenched into a fist, and she couldn’t be certain if it was in anger or pain.

Tobin swallowed the lump in her throat and drew in a shaky breath. “Grier?” she croaked, the lump failing to dislodge. She forced a cough, then forced steadiness into her voice. “Grier. Hey, um… I know I have a lot of explaining to do—and probably an equal amount of groveling. I’m probably the biggest ass in your life right now.”

A soft gasp slipped through the line. Tobin pictured Grier fiddling with the pendant at the hollow of her throat—a pendant Tobin desperately wanted to catch between her teeth, to follow with a trail of kisses along Grier’s collarbones, just to hear what other sounds she could draw from her. Music drifted faintly through the background, mingled with distant voices, like Grier had stepped out of a small house party to answer.

“Shit, you’re busy. I’m sorry. Forget I called.”

Tobin’s heart sank—and so did her body. The shift inadvertently caused her back to spasm. A curse tore from her lips, followed by a guttural, feral noise from the hollows of her gut.

“Tobin.”

Hearing her name on Grier’s lips was like the crash of waves against the lake cliffs—it was fierce and surging with power. Tobin’s heart raced. She’d do anything to hear her say it again.

“Why did you call?” Grier’s tone was measured, probing delicately. “I know you didn’t just want to remind me of your inadequacies, so cut the shit. Stop wasting my time.”

Tobin deserved that. And rightfully, she was grateful Grier wasn’t about to take her shit without a fight.

“Any chance you have a treatment table at home?” Tobin winced silently, hearing just how pathetic she sounded. She could hear her desperation. Maybe Grier would tell her no—hang up, end the call. Maybe that would be the small piece of closure she needed to fully close the door on Grier.