Bad Seed

The next day, I felt better. My headache was gone, leaving me exhausted but ready for the day. I showered slowly, taking my time getting dressed and eating a light breakfast. The last thing I needed was to make myself sick again. I hadn’t yet figured out what was causing my headaches, so I didn’t know how to prevent them. I simply tried to move gingerly and protect myself from yet another debilitating attack.

“Good morning!” Joan chimed when I walked through the door. I sat behind my desk and tried to smile at her. “You feeling better?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Just a little weak.”

“Food poisoning?” Joan asked.

I shook my head. “Anything happen yesterday?”

“No.” Joan shrugged. “Typical day. Nothing exciting.”

“Did you check in on Caleb Lewis?”

Immediately, Joan’s face lit up. I tried to bite back my annoyance, but I knew I couldn’t keep it down for long.

“Oh, I checked on him,” Joan said. “A few times.”

“Joan,” I said, a warning in my voice.

“Relax,” Joan said. “I treated him like every other patient.”

“I’m sure.” I sighed.

“I’m happy to handle his sessions,” Joan said quickly. “I know how busy you are.”

“I can do it,” I snapped.

Joan nodded and went back to work. I calmed myself as I realized Joan’s offer might not have been such a bad idea. After Caleb’s comment on Monday, putting some distance between us might have been smart. Still, the idea of Joan hitting on Caleb while stretching out his leg was enough to make me nauseous again.

After my morning sessions were complete, I grabbed my clipboard and went into the main hospital to make my rounds, reassessing the patients who needed it and disch

arging the ones who were done with me. Though I mostly saw the patients when they had been released from the hospital, I took a handful of inpatient cases as well to keep all my clinical skills up. I hit every single one of my other patients before I ventured toward Caleb’s room. I wasn’t ready to see him again, not after the things he said to me on Monday.

Just thinking about our last conversation filled me with a renewed sense of rage. Who the hell did he think he was? Hitting on me after all these years? I was merely doing my fucking job when he insinuated I wanted to screw him. It was repulsive and not at all true, right?

I had to shake myself as I remembered my dream. I’d been fantasizing about Caleb on and off since I was a teenager, but that dream felt more real than anything else ever had. I could practically feel him inside me. When I woke up, I was so shaken that it stayed with me for hours afterward. Then, when Caleb looked at me that way on Monday, I felt my panties flood with a desire I’d been trying to repress.

I didn’t want to feel this way. I hated my body for betraying me. I couldn’t be around Caleb without wanting to strip down and ride him until we were both exhausted and covered in sweat. It was primal, instinctual, animalistic. But it could never happen.

My heart still ached when I thought about what he did to me. He abandoned me when I thought he was the only man I would ever love. Our connection was instant, and it hadn’t yet faded. Just seeing his face was enough to remind me of the way we once felt. Still, I knew I had to fight it. The best way to do that was to push through and do my job. So, with determination in my gut and a professional smile on my face, I pushed Caleb’s door open and stepped inside.

He was sitting up in his bed and looked even better than yesterday. His complexion was returning to normal, and his stubble was even darker today. I swallowed hard and pushed forward.

“Tara,” he said, sounding surprised to see me.

“How are you feeling today?” I asked.

“Fine,” he said with a nod. “Pain is better.”

“That’s great.” I nodded and pulled up a chair. “It looks like you’ll be discharged soon, which means you can start physical therapy.”

Caleb nodded. “What do you have in store for me?”

“Well,” I began, glancing down at my chart. “As I said before, we’ll start you on some mild stretches a few times a week. Nothing too strenuous because we don’t want to risk re-injuring that leg. The scar tissue can be substantial and extremely problematic. If we don’t do things the right way, you may never get your full range of motion back.”

“I’ll do whatever you say,” Caleb said, his voice serious. “I want to get back on the job as soon as possible.”

The determination in his voice softened my resolve to remain professional. Caleb’s strength had always been his most attractive quality. It drew me to him and turned me on. Our eyes met, and I felt like that same young girl who was laying eyes on this boy for the first time.