Chapter 32

JOEY

It's been three weeks since my injury, and my wrist is feeling stronger every day. But when I try batting, that's when it bitch-slaps me and tells me to slow the fuck down. I hate waiting. Just like I hate not knowing what the coaching staff might be thinking. I tried getting a sit-down with Coach Gibbs, but he has yet to name a time, which makes me all the more nervous.

"Doc and I are both pleased with your progress," Nora says when I work through my exercises and stretches under her watchful eye Tuesday morning.

"Any guesses as to when I'll be off the IL?" I'm not even trying to disguise the hope in my voice.

"Don't rush it, big shot. You'll only set yourself back and prolong our visits, not that I don't enjoy your sparkling personality." She hooks up a blue band for increased resistance, and I loop my arm through it as she instructs.

"Patience isn't really one of my strong suits."

She almost chokes on her laughter. "Show me an athlete who excels in patience, and I'll give you the keys to my beach house in Bora Bora."

"You have a beach house in Bora Bora?" I ask, impressed.

"Nope." She grins at me before turning her head with a raised voice. "Hey, Lynn. Can you bring a fresh towel over?"

Of course, I've been watching Lynn in my peripheral vision the entire time I've been in the treatment room. But, as promised, I'm not engaging in any behavior that will give away our relationship or demonstrate even the tiniest degree of familiarity between us.

When she walks over in her black scrubs, however, it's hard not to kiss her or at least touch her. We've spent the last four days attached at the hip when she's not working and I'm not in therapy, working out, or at team meetings. I even hang out at Blue Bigfoot for a little while when she's on shift. Her brothers are so worked up over this developer business, they haven't even given me a hard time, apart from a few well-placed sneers.

Everyone is on pins and needles as they search for a link between The Diamond Group and any other homeowners who they may have victimized. So far, they've had no luck, but Lynn says they've put a guy named Duke on the case. The only thing I know about this guy is that he's Carter's girlfriend's grandfather, and he's a little nuts. I have to assume he has some connections nobody wants to talk about because they all appear confident he'll dig something up. In the meantime, Lynn is keeping her spirits high, probably because she knows Guy Taylor is finally back home today.

Gunner is the only one in my orbit who knows Lynn and I are dating, and I intend to keep it that way until Lynn's internship is over. Unfortunately, that means we don't get to watch any home games together and share disgustingly good nachos in the stands while she cheers for my team.

We went to the art exhibit at the senior center, and I finally introduced Lynn to Gunner and Elizabeth, although Elizabeth was busy trying to sell paintings. I bought one to support the cause and was surprised to learn it was a painting by the very same Duke who's helping the Brooks family investigate. He didn't strike me as someone who's got his finger on the pulse of much of anything, but what do I know?

As for the painting, there's no way I'll be hanging it anywhere in my condo. It was supposed to be a self-portrait, but it looks more like a schizophrenic rendering of an open wound than anything. Various shades of red, black, and blue cover the canvas, resembling dripping blood. When Lizzie pulled Duke over to Lynn and me, explaining that the painting was more of an expressionist take, I asked Duke what his inspiration was. His response? "How the hell am I supposed to know? Are you a moron?" At that point, Lynn dragged me away to grab a glass of champagne.

I take the towel from Lynn and use it to wipe the sweat from my face. Rehab isn't as easy as it looks.

"Which color band is next in resistance level?" Nora quizzes Lynn, who immediately answers, "Black, then gray." Nora nods her approval. My girl knows her shit.

"And what exercise is Joey doing now?"

"Resisted wrist flexion" is Lynn's response. I have no idea if she's right, but Nora's repeated nod tells me she nailed it.

Nora winks at me but speaks to Lynn. "He'll be ready to ice down after this."

Lynn nods and goes to retrieve the familiar ice pack and towels. When Nora declares me finished, she goes to her desk, leaving Lynn and me alone on the opposite side of the room.

"Let me guess. You were always the teacher's pet," I tease.

Lynn frowns down at me before taking Nora's vacated seat. "Not always."

"Ha! I knew it."

"Come on," she responds. "You are such a people pleaser, I'll bet you sat in the front row with an entire pack of sharpened pencils." She places the icepack over a towel and molds it to my wrist with practiced movements.

"I am not a people pleaser," I argue. Am I?

Clearly forgetting her rule about familiarity in the workplace, Lynn laughs. "You so are. When that waitress brought you chicken instead of fish, you straight out lied and said everything looked great."

"I like chicken."

"But you wanted fish."

"I think you're forgetting I'm a guy. We just like to eat. We don't actually care what it is as long as it's not still moving."

She raises her eyebrows and lowers her voice. "You told my mama you like romance books."

Yeah, I did that. But Ginny had to know I was joking, right? "That's different. I'm trying to get in her daughter's pants, so I need her to like me." I waggle my brows.

Appearing to remember where we are, Lynn glances back at Nora, but she's paying us zero attention. "Don't come crying to me when she gives you a box of soft-core porn, expecting a book report on each title."

My grin falls. "She wouldn't do that."

"Ha! Just you wait. She and her friend Regina devour those books, and Regina owns an escort business."

"Now you're just making shit up." At least I'm pretty sure she is.

Lynn raises her right hand. "Hand to God, Ace."

My chest warms for some reason. Maybe it's because I just like being around Lynn, no matter where we are. "I like it when you call me Ace."

Her responding smile has the warmth moving from my chest downward. But Amy chooses that moment to walk through the clinic door, sending Lynn back to her feet. "We need to watch our backs. I'm going to wait over there," she whispers.

"Hey, wait." I stop her just as she starts to turn. "It's Tuesday."

Lynn nods, an amused yet quizzical expression taking over. "And some people say athletes aren't smart."

"Shut it, you," I whisper, glancing to see if we've captured anyone's interest. Luckily, we haven't. "Guy Taylor is back in Raleigh."

"I know. I'm calling him right after work." Lynn's eyes go wide like she's suddenly gone giddy with anticipation.

She turns her back on me and starts walking away, but I manage to whisper-hiss, "Wait for me. I want to be there with you."

She does a little spin on her heel, mouthing, "Okay. I'll meet you at your place… Ace," before skipping off toward Nora and Amy.

Damn, I'm in deep with this girl. I just hope like hell I'm not alone.