“Take this instead.” She reached for extra strength Tylenol. “It’s better for your inflammation.”
“No, Miss Masters-in-physical-therapy, ibuprofen is the one that reduces inflammation—”
“It’s best for reducing acute inflammation for the purpose of pain relief.”
“Hello…” He held his hands wide.
“Okay, enough.” She wrapped her hands tight around the cart handle. “I’m getting tired of the attitude. You’re not the only one who’s tired or sore or not getting one hundred percent of what they want. If you need an explanation for every damn decision I make, I’ll give you one, but just remember—you asked for it. Try to follow along here.
“When a bone breaks, it creates an influx of free radicals, because antioxidants repair oxidative damage. This happens to an even greater degree when bones are broken forcefully, as in your case, because it ruptures the collagen strands running through the mineral phase of bone.”
His brow furrowed, his gaze sharpened.
“Free radicals,” she went on, “are associated with inflammation, and inflammation is an essential part of bone healing and rebuilding. The process involves two critical enzymes, but these enzymes also create pain. Anti-inflammatories like ibuprofen cut the pain, but they also inhibit those enzymes, which ultimately delays healing.”
His eyes had glazed over somewhere around “enzymes,” and now he dropped his gaze to the ibuprofen. “Well, shit.” He replaced the box on the shelf. “So you’re basically telling me to suck it up?”
“Not exactly.” She held up the Tylenol. “I’m telling you to take this and add a bunch of other inflammation-reducing foods and supplements into your diet.”
He rubbed a hand down his face, tore open the Tylenol box, then struggled with the small bottle. “If you think I’m an asshole now, wait till you see me in real pain. You probably shouldn’t have worked me that hard today.”
Before his obviously strained patience could snap, Julia took it from his hand, opened it, and poured two capsules into his palm. “It may seem counterintuitive, but exercise speeds healing.”
“My whole life seems counterintuitive.” He tossed the pills back, swallowing them dry.
“Give it fifteen minutes,” she said, dropping the Tylenol box into the cart and moving down the aisle. “If it’s not any better, you can take one more.”
“What if it’s still not better?”
They turned into the main row near the checkout counters, and Julia started toward the produce. “Therapy will help.”
His brows lifted. “Therapy, huh? Are you gonna do that massage thing you did last night?” His voice rose with hope, and more visions of their lust-filled night together filled her brain—and her body—with flash fire. “Because that was a-freaking-mazing. Can’t say I’ve ever had my—”
“Noah.”
“Just sayin’.”
They passed by the entrance and into the produce section. Julia stopped at a display of cherries. “Grab a handful and start eating. They’re high in anthocyanin, which reduces inflammation and curbs pain.” She tugged a plastic bag from the dispenser and fluffed it open. “I’m going to be giving you a lot of information over the next hour. Are you listening?”
He tossed a cherry into his mouth, then hit her with a flirty look. “I can tie the stem of this thing into a knot with my tongue. Wanna watch?”
“No. I just want to know you’re paying attention.”
He chuckled, the sound hot and full of himself. But, she had to let him have that—he was particularly talented with that tongue. And those lips. And hands. And fingers. And…
“I’m listening,” he said. “Go for it.”
Oh, she’d like to go for it. Instead, she said, “These cherries are going to help you stay off ibuprofen.”
“Ibuprofen is a hell of a lot cheaper. Judging by the price, these were flown in—first class—from Tibet.”
“It’s January. You live in the snow. Produce is going to be expensive. And why would that concern you anyway?”
“The key to having money is not wasting it.”
“And making good decisions.” Which was where she’d screwed up. “Investing in your health is never a bad decision.”
She spun the bag and tied off the top, dropped it into the cart, and moved on to the kiwis. Pulling another bag from a nearby roll, she tested the firmness of the little fuzzy fruits, dropping the ripe ones in the plastic.