“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’ll be there tomorrow. Promise, k?”
Then she heard a click. “Hello? Garrett? Garrett?”
She stared at her phone.
“That son of a bitch.” He’d hung up on her.
Unbelievable. That play might have worked on someone else, especially when the facility had other injured players to focus on. Did he think she was going to enjoy the day off and go shopping or maybe read a book? Hell no.
He’d asked for her, and like it or not, he was going to get her. She pulled up his address from his file, grabbed her coat and car keys, and stormed out the door.
*
THERE WAS A RELENTLESS POUNDING IN GARRETT’S head. He’d had a few beers last night, but he didn’t recall any whiskey or tequila, so he shouldn’t have a hangover.
He pulled the pillow over his head, but then he heard the bell ringing. He searched under the pillow on the other side of the bed and grabbed his phone, cracking his eyelids open to peer at the display.
No, wasn’t the phone.
There was that pounding again.
What. The. Fuck?
It took him a few seconds to figure out it was the door. And the doorbell. Simultaneously. He dropped his head to the pillow again. Whoever it was would go away when he didn’t answer.
Except they didn’t. The banging and ringing continued.
Shit. He rolled out of bed and slid into his sweatpants, went to the door, and peered through the peephole.
“Really?” He unlocked the door and pulled it open. Alicia stood there with a sweet smile on her face.
“Morning, sunshine. Ready for therapy?”
“Uh, no. I was sleeping.”
She pushed through the door. “Not anymore. So you might as well get dressed.”
He couldn’t believe she’d come to his house. He wanted to shut the door in her face. But since she was here . . .
“I need coffee.” He walked past her, and since he heard her footsteps behind him as he made his way to the kitchen, he assumed she’d come in.
At least she was quiet. While the coffee was brewing, he grabbed two cups, got out the cream and sugar, and turned to face her.
Her gaze drifted down to where his sweats were slung around his hips. He realized then that he was barely dressed, just the sweats that he’d grabbed so he could see who was at the door.
And she had noticed. And he noticed that she was looking.
He cracked a smile at that. Crossed his arms as she made a visual inspection of his abs and chest. When her gaze reached his face, she blushed.
Nice.
But she stayed silent. “Might as well take your coat off.”
“That’s not necessary. I can wait while you get dressed.”
“I need to take a shower.”
He saw her make a quick scan of his exposed skin again. If she didn’t stop that ogling, she was going to give him a hard-on. She looked cute all bundled up in her coat and hat and gloves, her cheeks rosy from blushing.
“Shed the outerwear and have a cup.”
She tugged off her cap and shrugged out of her coat. “Fine.”
He laughed as her hair flew in all directions from static cling, which made her glare at him. “What?”
He walked over to her and smoothed her hair down. “You look like you stuck your finger in a light socket.”
Her eyes widened, and she slapped his hands away, grabbed a ponytail holder from her wrist, and gathered her hair up in it. “And you aren’t making me any happier this morning.”
He walked to the coffeemaker and poured two cups. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to go back to bed. You’re cranky.”
“You’re right. I am cranky because you’re making light of what I consider serious business, which is your recovery and your career.”
“Your cup is on the counter. Cream and sugar are there if you want it.”
He leaned against the counter and took a drink. Then another, waiting for the surge of caffeine to give him the jolt he’d need to deal with Alicia this morning.
Fortunately, she wandered over, picked up the cup, and grabbed some sugar to add to it, then leaned beside him to silently drink.
Silence. He liked that word. He’d gotten through his first cup and was on his second before she spoke again.
“You think this is fun for me?”
He looked down at her, feeling a lot more charitable now that he was fully awake. “Probably not. But you could have just let one day slide.”
She sat her cup on the counter and turned to face him. “One day can make all the difference in your recovery. I’ve studied your chart. It’s not just one day, Garrett. You’ve let a lot of days slide since your injury. And the team let you. That’s not going to happen with me. If I have to camp out on your doorstep and drag your lazy ass out of bed every day, then I will. If I have to move in with you and kick you out of bed to get you to cooperate, then that’s what’s going to happen. But one way or the other, you’re going to get the therapy you need to get your arm in shape come game day.”