“Oh, that?” She waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing. I have terrible seasonal allergies and sometimes they get so bad I sound like a blubbering, sniveling mess, that’s all.”
He scoffed. “This is why Jax and I never let you tag along on our more devious ‘misadventures.’ You’re a terrible liar and wouldn’t have lasted five seconds under parental interrogation.”
She stood, placing her hands on her hips. “Well according to your trainer, you’re a terrible patient, so I guess we both have our faults. Now, unless you want to waste your entire session on pointless chatter, I suggest you let me assess your injury.”
Reid recognized a brick wall when he ran into one. She wasn’t going to talk about it…yet. One way or another he’d get it out of her. “Fine. Assess away, Luey.” Reaching between his shoulder blades with his left arm, he pulled his T-shirt off over his head, taking care not to jostle his right arm too much. He tossed the shirt onto the chair in the corner.
“How much PT have you had since the operation?”
“I don’t know, the usual amount, I guess. A session a day or so. But it wasn’t enough so I was doing some extra training on the side.”
She paused and arched a brow at him. “In other words, you were overdoing it, which is counterproductive to your recovery.”
“‘Overdoing it’ is such a subjective term.”
“No, it’s not, Reid. Anything more than what your doctor or therapist instructs is overdoing it. If I’m going to help you, you need to do exactly as I say. If you can manage that, I’ll have you as good as new in about four months.”
“What? Didn’t Butch tell you about my rematch in two months? I need to fight on that card, Luce. Diaz has my belt, and I’m taking it back.”
Lucie shook her head. “Reid that’s insane. Even if I devoted the majority of my time to you, I can’t guarantee you’ll be ready to fight that soon.”
“Bullshit. You have to say that as a professional, but take into account who your patient is. I’m not like the other people you work on. I’m not your Average Joe trying to eventually get back to normal. I’m a highly trained athlete who’s had to recover from more injuries in the last fifteen years than a hundred Average Joes put together.”
She sighed. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here, first, okay, hotshot? Sit.”
Reid hopped onto the table and tried not to tense up at the idea of having his arm manipulated. He had a high tolerance for pain, but that didn’t mean her exam wouldn’t be enough to set his teeth on edge.
“Extend your arm to the side and try to keep it there as I push it down.” He lasted only a few seconds before he released the pose with a muttered curse. She pretended not to notice and put him through a couple more strength tests where he managed to keep his swearing rants inside his head. Yay him.
“Okay, last one, Reid. Place your hand in front of your stomach and try to hold it there as I pull it away from your body.”
Clenching his jaw and his left fist he tried thinking of something other than the sickening pain shooting from his shoulder. But as bad as the pain was, the fact that he was so weak and couldn’t hide it was much worse.
“All right, you can relax now.” She made some notes in his file, then turned back and asked, “On a pain scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst pain you can imagine, how are you feeling at the moment?”
“A four. Maybe even a three.”
She arched her brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Spare me the macho shit, Andrews. I’m not here to challenge your virility. If you want me to do my job, then you have to be one hundred percent honest with me.”
He pinned her with a glare that made men twice her size reconsider stepping into the octagon with him. Lucie didn’t even flinch. He would’ve commended her for it had he not been so aggravated with the whole situation. “Fine. A six,” he grumbled. “But some days are better than others.”
“Don’t worry, that’s normal. Now lay facedown on the table. I want to do a couple more things.”
“You got awfully bossy in your old age, you know that?” He was a tad disappointed she didn’t rise to the bait, but offered a sarcastic Mm-hmm instead as he arranged his body on the table. With his left arm up to cradle the side of his face, he let his eyes close as she began to work on him.
Her delicate fingertips probed the muscles around his shoulder. He had no idea what she was looking for, but he hoped she searched for a while. Her touch felt so much better than how he was usually handled. Of course Scotty’s hands weren’t as soft, but it was more than that. It was the technique she used; like he wasn’t just a fighter made of hardened muscle that could handle rough, prodding fingers, but rather a man who’d asked for a gentle massage after a long day.
He heard a soft sniffle, and it set his mind to wondering what had upset her so much. Growing up he’d practically been Lucie’s second older brother, and it bothered him to know something was wrong.
Whatever it was, she was doing her best to avoid—“Ah, shit!”