When she waved from the window, he waved back. He would see her soon enough. He looked forward to it.
Then he shook his head. No way. She was a patient, and he was only there for her therapy. Allen needed to keep that in mind. He tried his best as he drove home.
Chapter 8
She could do it. She was a fighter. She couldn’t quit on the first official day of physical therapy and definitely not in front of Allen. Point her toes and lift them back up. Simple right? Heather blew out her cheeks. She pointed her toes again closing her eyes.
“That’s it,” Allen said. “You can relax now.”
She couldn’t relax. Not only was therapy kicking her butt, but the man in her house made her stomach do summersaults. The sooner they finished their sessions the better. Until then, Heather needed to keep her distance.
Besides, even if things stirred between them, it would be over in her six-week time frame. She didn’t commit. Why bother when the men in her life proved unreliable?
Her father didn’t stay. He left her mother to raise her and her sister on her own, sometimes working two jobs at a time. Heather never wanted to live that way, so she took control of her relationships.
“Ready for the next one?” Allen asked.
“Bring it.”
“Tough one, aren’t you?”
“Looks like I have to be with you around. How many reps was that?” she asked
“Enough and you’re doing great.”
Tinsel barked and padded his way over to them.
Heather raised an eyebrow. “Tinsel?”
“It’s fine.” Allen petted the dog’s head and scratched behind his ears. He then grabbed a foam roll and placed it underneath her ankle. “We’ll slow it down with knee props.”
Thank goodness. Heather laid flat on her back and tried to relax.
“Okay, we have a way to go with this one. Is that as far as it will go without you straining?”
She winced. “Yeah.” Her only consolation was Tinsel nudging her cheek. She smiled and petted her puppy.
“No problem. It’ll straighten over time so just relax and don’t push on it,” Allen said.
Heather didn’t respond, only closed her eyes. Inhaling deeply, she relaxed but it was short-lived when Allen’s strong fingers clasped her ankle again to remove the foam roll. Her gaze opened, directly meeting his eyes.
Did he always have a mustache? It looked as if he were growing a beard. Heather liked it. It fit his… and why would she care if he fit his face?
“Heather?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“I said we’re done.”
She bobbed her head and took her time to sit up on the mat. “Okay. So… same time tomorrow?”
He grabbed his phone. “If anything changes and we need to reschedule, let me know.” Locking eyes with her, he stared. Heather froze as his eyes gazed at her face as if taking in every detail. Then he reached out, and she pulled back.
He blinked as if coming back to his senses. “Sorry, but you have… an eyelash.”
Heather wiped underneath her eyes. “Did I get it?”
“Stay still.” Allen reached out again and brushed the small hair away with his thumb.