“Seriously.” I take a breath. “I’m supposed to be relaxing.”
She laughs a little. “Sorry. If I’m distracting you, I can leave.”
“It’s okay. I don’t care about relaxing all that much.”
She gives me a look, but she’s smiling. I lean back as she gets comfortable, sitting directly across the tub. Our feet touch under the water, but I don’t pull them away.
“I’m glad I got you in here,” she says. “This is going to be good for you.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t know the last time I gave up time just to sit around doing nothing.”
“You’re not doing nothing. You’re recovering.”
“That’s overrated.” I sigh and stretch my legs out again. “How’d you get into all this, anyway?”
She shrugs a little. “I didn’t want to be a doctor, but I wanted to help people. So I got into sports medicine.”
“You don’t strike me as the typical trainer.”
“What’s the typical trainer?”
“Ex-athlete that couldn’t hack it at the pro level, basically.”
She shrugs. “That’s not really me. I mean, I played sports and stuff, but I never pretended like I’d make it.”
“It’s good, that attitude.”
“Is it? I’m just realistic with myself.”
“Not many people are.”
She puts her hands on either side of the ledge, getting comfortable. “People just want the dream, you know?”
“Even if the dream only happens for a few people.”
“Did it happen for you?” She raises an eyebrow.
I hesitate. That’s a good question. I always thought my dream was to play in the pros for a long time, but that didn’t happen. I got hurt and now here I am, an old man, my playing days long gone.
But this career I fell into, it’s arguably better.
“I think so,” I admit finally. “I just don’t think I had the right dream when I was younger.”
She grins. “When you were my age.”
I groan. “You going to start with the old jokes now?”
“No, I promise.” Her grin turns bigger. “Although you are an old man.”
“Older and wiser.”
“More like older and way more stressed out.”
“Worry more about yourself there, little Leah.”
“It’s my job to worry, you know.”
“Have you always been the type to care about other people?”
She shrugs, looking thoughtful. “No, not really,” she admits. “Not at first, anyway. Then I got into my first practical classes and it just all clicked.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“After I graduated, I had trouble finding a solid job. I mean, I was at the hospital for a while, but there’s not a lot of opportunity out here in Fargo.”
“Tell me about it.”
“But then this team came along, and it just… worked.” She shrugs again. “I don’t know.”
“It was fate.”
“Maybe. I think I just got hired because I’m like one of five other sports medicine people in the whole town.”
“That’s partially true,” I admit. “But that’s not the only reason.”
She hesitates. “You know why they hired me?”
“Of course. I looked at your file.” I grin innocently. “You can ask, if you want.”
She sucks in a breath. “Don’t be an asshole. Just tell me.”
“Fine. You answered a question right.”
I watch as she thinks back over the interview. I’m sure she doesn’t remember what it was, but I know. The answer was recorded in her file.
“Okay, I don’t know,” she says finally. “Tell me what I said.”
“You said that you’d try your best to keep the players healthy, but at the end of the day, it’s more about what they do than what you do.”
She makes a face. “Really? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I confirm. “The thing is, good trainers can only do so much, and the best trainers admit it. We don’t want trainers that think they can heal the sick and bring back the dead. We need reasonable, smart people. Like you.”
She bites her lip. “Well, thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. I wasn’t the one that hired you.”
She grins at me, but doesn’t say anything. We pass a couple minutes in silence, and I can actually feel myself slowly starting to relax.
I look over at her and she cocks her head. “What?” she asks.
I shrug. “I was just thinking. How soundproof are these rooms?”
“I have no clue,” she says, biting her lip. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you seem so worried about how stressed I am.” I move across the Jacuzzi, coming closer to her.
“I am very concerned,” she says, watching me as I get closer.
“Gravely concerned?”
“Gravely,” she confirms.
“Good.” I stop next to her, lean closer. I tilt her chin toward me.
“You should know something,” she blurts out suddenly.
I pause. “Are you sure?” I whisper. I know what she wants to say, and I don’t think I want to hear it.
She hesitates, and I kiss her. I don’t want to give her a chance to say something that’ll ruin this moment.
Because despite everything else, no matter what, I want this. I want her. It feels good, makes me feel good. And I know she wants it just as much.