Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
She offers me a small smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I watched that game. Well, I watch every game. My stomach sank when I watched it happen.”
“Wait. You watch every game?”
For some reason, that fills me with satisfaction.
“Yeah, I’m a hockey fan.”
She blinks and looks down at her phone.
“Now, let’s—”
“No, back it up. You’re a hockey fan. Who’s your team?”
Ivy stares at me like Really? “I’m not here to discuss hockey with you.”
“You’re in my house, and I was told that I’m your only patient, so we have time. Who’s your favorite team, Ivy?”
“I follow Denver, okay?”
A smile slowly spreads over my lips. Yeah, I like that.
“Do you have a favorite player?”
“Now you just want me to feed your ego, Xander Hendrix.”
“Guilty. Who is it?”
“Maybe it’s Cooper.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Or?”
“I’m not participating in this conversation. Now, where’s your gym?”
I want to push her. I want to hear her say that I’m her favorite player. Why? I have no fucking idea because most of the time I don’t care.
But rather than threaten to submit her to torture to get the answers out of her, I gesture for her to follow me to the other side of the house.
“Your home is beautiful,” she says.
“Thanks. I had it built about five years ago, and my sister Ava decorated it. It’s way too big for one person, and I’m only here a couple months out of the year, but it’s my favorite place. And this gym is about to blow your mind.”
I open the door, and she walks in ahead of me, and I grin when she gasps.
“Told you.”
“Holy shit. You could charge a lot of money for memberships to this place.”
I laugh and look around at all the free weights, the cardio equipment, the mats and medicine balls. I have kettlebells, boxes for standing jumps and step-ups, ropes.
You name it, it’s in here.
“This will be perfect,” she assures me and then turns to the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out to the mountains and the pond behind my house.
Fall is starting to settle into Montana, but it’s still warm and sunny out there, and when she sighs and bites her lip, I can’t help but nod in agreement.
“It’s a hell of a view.”
“It’s insane,” she agrees. “At least you’ll have something pretty to look at while I whip you into shape.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She glances at me and finds me looking at her, and she laughs.
“Right. Okay, then. I want you to walk to the other side of the room and back.”
“That’s it?”
“To start.”
I’m fucking impressed.
Two hours later, I’ve been stretched, tested, and trained until I’m sweating and practically ready to beg for mercy. Ivy knows what the fuck she’s doing.
She’s damn good.
She absolutely should be working full time with a pro team. Her talent is wasted here in this tiny town. I’m sure she’s appreciated in her current position, but if this is what she wants, she absolutely has the chops for it.
“You did well today,” she says calmly as she types into her computer. She’s sitting on the floor, crisscross with her laptop on her legs. I don’t like her sitting on the floor. “Your range of motion is almost back, which means you’re just about ready to start running again and we can work on your strength and endurance.”
“When can we start that?”
She glances my way and keeps typing.
“Next week at the latest, I think. I want you to ice several times today. You might be a little sore this evening.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Hmm.” She continues to type, her fingers flying over the keyboard, and I find it fascinating.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“I’m going to leave you my number,” she continues. “You’re welcome to text or call with any concerns. I may be slow to respond in the evenings, but I’ll get back to you.”
Who are you with in the evenings, Ivy?
I want to ask. It’s absolutely none of my business and out of line because she’s my therapist, not my friend, but I still want to know.
“Did you end up adopting that cat?”
Her gaze whips up to mine in surprise.
“I remember that night at the bar,” I continue, “when Darby talked you into one of the barn kittens. Did you take it?”
“Yeah, I did.” She looks flustered for a heartbeat and then closes her computer. I can see that she’s going to gather her things and go, and I’m not ready for her to leave yet.
Which is stupid. I have shit to do. I’m going out to the ranch to help out for a while. I’m sure she has a life too.
But I like hearing her voice.
“What did you name it?” I ask, wanting to keep her talking.
“Cally,” she says. “Her name is Cally the Calico. She’s pretty cute and gives me company. Okay, I think I’m all done here for today.”