Chapter Six: Lincoln
I pressed back against her, hard, our skin slick and close together. I grunted in agony and joy and pushed harder, closer, feeling her breath on my neck. I thought I caught a moan but wasn’t sure. Our limbs were tangled together and I couldn’t remember which part was me and which part was her.
I kept pushing. I wanted to get there. Wanted to reach all the way and finish.
“Is that all you have?” she said.
“Fuck, not even close,” I groaned.
“Come on. Push harder.”
“I’m fucking pushing.”
“Harder!”
I reached out and grabbed her feet and then fell onto my back, panting. Tracy, my physical therapist slash torturer, stood up and laughed at me.
“You big baby. We’re just stretching you out.”
I wanted to snap at her, but the cameras were running. And honestly, I was too tired to think of a comeback without sounding like a child.
“Long day,” I grunted instead.
“Yeah, I bet. You did good.”
She reached her hand out and I took it, struggling to my feet. My legs were shaking, but I didn’t fall flat on my face, which was a big step forward. Well, more like a pained, shuffled step forward, but whatever.
She handed me my cane and I leaned on it, my white shirt drenched with sweat.
“Same time tomorrow?” she asked.
“You know it.”
“You’re doing awesome, Lincoln. Seriously. Most clients I’ve had don’t work nearly as hard as you, and none progress like you have.”
“Thanks, Tracy.”
She smiled and then walked over to her stuff and began to towel off her skin, taking a drink of water. I watched her for a second but then looked away, not interested. Sure, she was blond and thin and had amazing tits, but there was something boring about her. I wouldn’t have thought that a week ago,
I realized.
Aubrie had changed all that.
I couldn’t get my damn stepsister out of my mind.
I glanced over at Jess and then walked over to my stuff and toweled off, drank some water, and got changed. The cameras followed me, of course, since that was what they were there for. But for some reason, they were pissing me off, and I really wanted just one damn second to catch my breath without having to pretend like I wasn’t in excruciating pain every second of my life.
“Jess, do you mind?”
“What’s that, Lincoln?”
I looked at her. “Do you mind? Just give me a second.”
She cocked her head. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m tired. Can I have a second without the cameras?”
I knew I should shut up and ignore them like I always had. I knew they would probably cut this moment up and make it look like I was struggling and having some emotional moment. But I couldn’t help myself. I was annoyed and I was human. At least I wasn’t breaking shit.
“This is part of it, Lincoln.”
“I know. Just, give me a second.”
She sighed. “Fine, okay. We’ll take five.”
I nodded at her as the crew turned off their cameras and dispersed, probably heading outside to smoke or whatever. Jess stayed behind and walked over to me.
“What’s the matter? You’re usually a lot calmer than this.”
“Nothing. Just a bad day.”
She frowned and stood close to me. “Anything I can do to help?”
I raised my eyebrow at her. I recognized that voice. I had heard it plenty of times before from plenty of other women. It was the “can I fuck your pain away?” voice, and usually the answer would be yes.
But I really wasn’t in the mood.
“No. I’m good. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll catch up with you guys after.”
“Okay. Sure I can’t help?”
I stared. Her lips were parted slightly, and although she was always so stiff and stuck up, she was actually pretty attractive. Long dark hair, bright blue eyes she kept covered with glasses, and just a hint of cleavage. All of which did absolutely nothing for me.
“Positive.”
I gimped my way out of the room as fast as I could, not bothering to look back at her.
A shower meant I had fifteen, maybe twenty minutes at best. I made my way upstairs, losing a few minutes on the slow climb, and made my way down the long hallway toward the far end of the second floor. I opened the very last door on the left and walked inside.
The room was mostly empty, with hardwood floors and a baby grand piano standing in the middle. Back in the day, it had probably been the music and dance room, but it obviously didn’t get much use anymore. I sat down at the piano’s bench, flipped open the key cover, and began to play.
I felt instantly better. Ever since the accident, the only thing that seemed to calm me down was music. That and banging the shit out of the pinball machines downstairs. I wasn’t the best musician, but I had taken lessons as a kid, and I picked it up again when I was living in Helsinki for a few months. A friend of mine was a pretty talented mountain climber who also gave piano lessons on the side to make extra money. He taught me a lot, made me confident enough to play in front of people at least.