But he wasn’t going to be patient, which meant she was going to have to encourage him and give him a realistic plan so he’d get on board and not try to rush things. She knew he was impatient, and the last thing she wanted was for Garrett to suffer a setback. That could destroy him.
After stowing her gear, she went into the workout room to take off the ice pack she’d put on Garrett’s shoulder. She stopped at the doorway, struck by the sight of him reclining on the cushioned futon, his back against the wall. His legs were stretched out, his eyes closed, just the right amount of stubble peppering his jaw, which of course drew her focus to his mouth.
That stubborn set to his jaw was also part of what made him so sexy.
She’d like to straddle him and put her lips to his, taste that mouth, just to see what he’d do. Then she’d rock against him and find out how long it would take him to get hard.
Realizing she’d taken her visual fantasy down to his crotch, she snapped herself out of her dirty daydream, shocked to discover his eyes had opened. He was watching her with a full-on look of hunger that sent a stab of desire to her core.
She’d spent a very sleepless night reminding herself that he was a patient, she was his therapist, and she was going to stop fantasizing about him or thinking about him in any personal way.
That resolution hadn’t lasted long, had it?
Some rock you are, Alicia.
She cleared her throat and walked in, keeping her focus about a foot above his head. “I think you’ve cooled down enough.” She reached for the ice pack, but his hand snaked up and wrapped around her wrist, forcing her to look down at him.
“I’m not cooled down.”
She sat next to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. It was cold from the ice pack. “Are you feeling pain?”
His lips curved. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Tell me where it’s hurting.”
“Right where you were looking when I caught you staring at me.”
Her eyes widened, and she started to pull away, but his hand on her wrist stopped her. Mortified, she tried to jerk away again, but he held her still.
“Why are you fighting this? It’s what we both want.”
She finally looked at him. “I don’t want it. Let me go.”
He released her wrist, and she walked out of the room, feeling like a coward.
Because he was right. She did want him. So damn much her body throbbed all over. She went into her room and shut the door, climbed onto her bed, and laid her face in her hands, feeling ridiculous for running away.
She wasn’t some scared teenager who didn’t know how to have a conversation with someone of the opposite sex. And she certainly wasn’t a virgin. She should have stayed and had a rational talk with Garrett, explaining the obvious conflict of interest. That her career was more important to her than satisfying her sexual urges and that he needed to spend his time focusing on his recovery, which had to remain his number one priority. And that whatever she might want—or he might want—it wasn’t going to happen.
It was so easy to play the conversation out in her head after the fact. It was so simple. After all, as soon as she’d said no, he had let her go. It wasn’t like he was being difficult. Garrett of all people understood the importance of one’s career. He’d get onboard with this. He might want her, but he’d deal with the fact that nothing was ever going to happen between them. It was simple and logical. He was a man. Men weren’t emotional. He’d get it.
Armed with new resolve, she slid off the bed and went in search of him, finding him in the kitchen, foraging in the refrigerator.
“Garrett.”
He didn’t look up. “Yeah.”
“We need to talk.”
“I’d rather eat. I’m starving.” He closed the refrigerator, then looked over at her. “I want a steak. I can fix one of those tofu things for you. Maybe with a baked potato and salad?”
She vaguely registered his list of menu items. “Uh, yeah. Sure. But we need to talk.”
“We can talk over dinner, when my stomach isn’t growling. I’ll fire up the grill. How about you make the salad?”
He walked out of the room and left her standing there, her fiery prepared speech wilting as fast as her confidence.
Maybe he’d gotten past it quicker than she thought.
Or maybe he felt rejected, his feelings were hurt, and he was hiding it from her by pretending the conversation in the workout room hadn’t happened. That’s probably how she’d deal with it.
But he was a guy, and she was a woman, and women were emotional, so she had no idea what he was really thinking.
Shit.
*
DINNER WAS . . . UNREMARKABLE. OH, THE FOOD WAS fine, but Alicia barely remembered eating it.
Refusing to let the conversation she intended to have with Garrett be pushed to the side, she’d made a list in her head of all the points she wanted to discuss with him.
After dinner, though, just in case it resulted in upsetting him. No sense in ruining the meal.