“And a groin sprain,” he finished for me, opening his thighs wide on the table and pointing between his legs at his very naked genitalia. My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed hard and nodded, looking away as fast as I could.
“Right. A severe groin sprain.”
“Does it say it’s severe?” he asked. “It feels severe. It’s all swollen and bruised. You should take a closer look,” he said, spreading his legs wider and laying back on the bed, completely exposing his entire package.
I couldn’t believe him. Did I want to take a closer look? I never wanted to look away…
“I’m being serious here Maisey. If we’re going to have a doctor patient relationship I need you to look at this groin sprain.”
“No, that’s fine, you can um…you know what?” I asked. “I think we’re done here for the day. I’ve got a list of all your issues, I’ll take a look and tomorrow we’ll start fresh after I develop a more extensive treatment plan for you.”
His laughter was mocking, but I ignored it, saying a little silent prayer that he’d closed his legs and sat up before I looked at him again.
“You sure? You didn’t really exam me.”
“That’s okay. I can get everything I need from your hospital records for now.”
“If you say so…” he said. “You’re the expert.”
“Yes, I do,” I nodded, forcing myself to look back at him, making sure to only look him in the eye this time.
“I have complete confidence we can restore your knee to its full potential. Tonight, I want you to stay off of it and keep it elevated as much as possible. Tomorrow, we’ll start some gentle stretching and electrical stimulation.”
“Sounds kinky,” he joked, winking at me suggestively.
“No, actually electrical stimulation is a type of electric current therapy that has proven to be eff—,” I began.
“I know what electric stim is, Maisey,” he replied. “It was a joke.”
“Oh, right,” I replied. “A joke.”
I tore my gaze away from his again. This was all too much to take in all at once.
Jesse Colorado was a man best experienced in small doses. For me, even the most minuscule exposure was threatening to take me down. I had my job cut out for me, that’s for sure.
“Jesse,” I continued, turning away and heading for the door, “thank you for choosing Steadman Hawkins for your rehabilitation needs.”
“We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, right?” he asked.
His question caught me off guard. Indeed we were. I spent so much time with my patients, that sometimes we got to know each other very well. It was one of the aspects that I enjoyed about my job.
This time, it just might be the death of me.
“Yes,” I replied, stopping to face him.
“Then you’d better stop being so goddamned formal with me, Maisey Jayne. I’m just messing with you. Lighten up. We come from the same place. That makes us friends, at the very least.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jesse,” I replied, opening the door and walking out, my heart beating so loudly, I was sure he could hear it.
7
JESSE
I fucking hated being injured. In fact, outside of my dick not working, I couldn’t think of anything worse that my knee being fucked up. It took me five minutes just to get out of bed and take a piss, and even then it was damned near impossible to balance the crutches and keep from pissing all over my toilet at the same time.
It didn’t help that I’d been hard almost all day. I’d gone home from the clinic with a raging case of I-need-to-fuck, and even after tossing one off before bed, I’d woken up in the middle of the night still pitching a tent. Who the fuck do you call if your natural erection lasts more than four hours?
And it was all because of the elusive Maisey Jayne.
I couldn’t believe it was really her after all this time.
I couldn’t believe she wouldn’t answer my questions earlier. She was so jittery and nervous and fucking clinical around me, it was as if our past together had never happened.
There was no fucking way she didn’t remember. Of that, I was certain. She remembered those long nights helping me in the library, and she damn sure remembered the night she came back to my bedroom.
* * *
“I think you’ll pass. You seem like you’ve got the material down pretty well at this point,” she said, her black curls bouncing around her face as she closed her notebook. She had a little upturned button nose, and those big green eyes, and I’d found it difficult to stop looking at her.
“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are, Maisey?” I’d asked.