And now he’d have to get that mental picture out of his head. He wondered what her hair would look like out of that ponytail, waves of dark curls spilling over her shoulders. Though the fantasy would be better if she was reclining on the sofa naked.
He decided this whole therapy thing would go a lot better if he didn’t find her sexy. Bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, her face slathered in some kind of green facial cream, and maybe her hair in curlers.
“Reach up and grab that thin limb on the tree,” she said as they walked.
He stopped and pulled his head out of the fantasy. “Huh?”
“That limb on the tree ahead. Keep walking, but just grab the limb as we walk by.”
“And do what with it?”
“Here. I’ll show you the first time.” She strolled ahead of him then slowed down as she stepped under a tree with low-hanging limbs. She reached up with her right arm and grabbed one of the thinner limbs, held on as she walked past.
Ah. He got it. “You want me to stretch the back of my shoulder by grabbing on to tree limbs.”
“Yes, but don’t jerk it. Do it gently. Slow your pace as we walk under the trees. Just pause, hang on to the limb, and really feel the stretch.”
“Got it.” And he did the next time, and the next; she’d chosen a heavily tree-lined street.
“This is a lot less boring than the pulleys.”
“Even if you are freezing your ass off?” she asked with a wry smile.
“Even if.”
“It’s always nice to get out of the facility. I like being outdoors, breathing in fresh air. Plus, you needed a change in your therapy. And you need to get out of your head. It’s very doom and gloom in there.”
“So you think me yanking on tree limbs is going to fool my body—and my mental state—into thinking this really isn’t therapy?”
She laughed. “No. I know you’re not stupid. You’ll still know this is therapy. It’s just using different mechanics.”
By the time they’d walked a mile, he could definitely feel it in his shoulder. Plus, she made him do it leaning to the side and from the front. They walked into the facility, and he wasn’t cold anymore. He peeled off his hat and his jacket, and went to the break room for a bottle of water.
Alicia met him at the door. “Ready for some serious work now?”
He paused mid-drink. “I thought we were done.”
“That was just a warm-up. Now that your muscles and tendons are toasty, we’re really going to dig in.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m a little sore.”
She marched over to him and pushed on his back. “Being a wuss isn’t allowed. Head over to the pulleys.”
“I thought jerking on the tree limbs was in lieu of the pulleys.”
She adjusted the weights for him. “You would think that, wouldn’t you? But no. Three sets of ten.”
He looked down at the weights, which were set heavier than they’d been before. Then he looked up at Alicia. “This isn’t going to wreck my shoulder?”
“Nope. Start lifting. I’ll be here watching your progress.”
He went through the routine, waiting for some sharp, knifelike pain to signal that he was right, that the weights were too heavy.
The pain didn’t come. It hurt, but therapy always did.
Though, it was a lot less painful so far because he had Alicia to push him around. Maybe this could work.
*
ADMITTEDLY, ALICIA WAS NERVOUS. NOT JUST A LITTLE nervous, but a whole bundle of jammed-up tension that had settled right between her shoulder blades as she worked through this first session with Garrett.
There was a mountain of pressure on her to do this right, and a lot riding on this—Garrett’s career. If she didn’t get his shoulder working again, and not just working minimally, but fully enough that he could pitch and pitch well, then she’d likely be out of a job. Sports medicine specialists were hired—especially by a baseball team—because they were the best. Throughout her time in school and at the orthopedic clinic she’d worked for prior to being hired by the Rivers, she’d prided herself on being damn good at sports medicine. She’d studied anatomy and physiology before she’d ever stepped foot in a college classroom, had worked on her brother’s and cousins’ aches and pains, and had watched athletes’ mechanics and studied their injuries.
This is what she’d spent her life training for. Now was her chance to prove herself.
She put Garrett on the leg press to give his shoulder a break and also to balance his workout. She took a moment to ogle his muscles as he lay back and pushed a sizeable amount of weight. Since he’d warmed up, he’d shed his sweats and was down to his shorts, his thighs flexing as he pushed up on the press.
If she wasn’t an employee of the team, she’d be all over him like she was sure many women were. But fantasizing about the hot pitcher wasn’t going to happen, no matter how amazing his body was or how sexy his eyes were when he glanced up at her.
He was her patient, and he was going to remain firmly rooted in that spot.
He sat up after locking the weights into place.
“So, how experienced are you at this, Alicia?”
“I have plenty of therapeutic experience.”