“Reach your arms to the top of the beam,” she said.
He turned to her. “What?”
“Lift your arms up, straight overhead. Touch the overhead.”
He did. His left arm went up just fine, but he winced when he straightened the right. And he wasn’t straightening it as easily as the left arm.
“It’s just a stretch, nothing too strenuous. Keep it up there and try to straighten your right arm, keeping your arm as close to your ear as you can.”
She stood behind him, silently watching.
“See anything?”
“Yes. Now, drop your arms, shake them out for a few seconds, and do it again.”
He gave her a look over his shoulder. “This doesn’t seem to accomplish anything.”
“That’s why you’re the pitcher and I’m the therapist. Do it again, and hold for a count of ten each time.”
He shrugged but reached for the top of the doorway again.
She had him do it five more times. By the last time, it felt like his form was much better. She came up behind him and grasped his shoulders, pushing against the muscles and tendons.
“Right side feels tight,” he said.
“Of course it feels tight. You don’t move enough. You don’t stretch enough. The more you keep your arm immobile, the more scar tissue forms. That’s half your problem.”
He turned to face her. “And the other half is?”
She tapped the side of her head. “You thinking that your career is over. And because of it, you don’t do your home exercises like you should. And because you don’t do your home exercises like you should, your shoulder isn’t healing. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that.”
Garrett didn’t like how easily Alicia had him pegged. Then again, wasn’t that the reason he’d chosen her in the first place? She’d seen right through him, had told him what he needed. And what he needed was someone to push him.
He needed to get back on the mound. He was twenty-nine years old and still had a lot of years left to pitch. He wasn’t going to let this injury derail his career. Being out of commission this long had fucked with his head, and he didn’t know how to change that.
The one thing he’d always had was control—over his pitches, over his career, and over his life. The past year he’d lost all of it, and he wanted it back. All the team doctors and athletic directors and therapists hadn’t helped him get it back.
The therapists he had befriended had done nothing but enable him, allowing him to make excuses and not get the strength in his arm back.
Was that what he wanted?
Maybe Alicia was the key. She seemed confident in her ability to help him, so he had to trust in her. He was running out of options.
He looked down at her, wondering how much he could challenge her. “You’re kind of short.”
She snorted. “Oh, but I’m mighty. Just you wait and see.”
He liked that she didn’t insult easy. “You must have brothers.”
“One. And cousins. You don’t scare me.”
“Wasn’t trying to.”
“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggested.
“Aren’t you going to work out my shoulder?”
“In good time.”
“You know it’s winter out there.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Yes, I do. Afraid of a little weather?”
“No.” He hated cold weather. If he’d wanted to be in cold weather, he’d have played football.
“Good. Put your coat on.”
“Is this part of my therapy?”
She grabbed her coat. “No. I love freezing my ass off and thought you might want to join me.”
“You’re kind of a smart-ass,” he said as he slid into his heavy winter jacket then his beanie.
“Yeah, I’ve never heard that one before.” She slipped her hat over her head. “Everything I do with you is part of your therapy. Let’s go.”
They walked outside the facility, and Garrett slunk farther into his jacket. The darkness of the morning hadn’t given way to any sunshine, and the wind had picked up even more, so it felt colder. They walked up the stairs and down the street.
Alicia was practically bouncing as she lifted her face to the sky. She turned to him. “It’s supposed to snow today.”
“Yeah, like a foot of it or something.”
“I know. It’s exciting.”
He caught the grin on her face, and just as he had imagined, it transformed her from pretty to beautiful. Her cheeks rounded, and her lips curved into something so sexy it stole his breath. He tried not to notice, but it was hard not to. “You like snow.”
“I love it. I love all weather, actually. There’s nothing like a big snowstorm while you’re cuddled inside the house in your pajamas with a steaming cup of hot chocolate and a great romance novel.”