Impossible To Resist (BWWM Romance Book 1)(3)

“It’s not about the money.” Jared worked hard to control his tone, it wouldn’t do to show his temper after years spent learning to restrain it. “I love playing the game. Can you understand that? I’ve been working toward this since I was six years old.”

“Indeed.” She squared her shoulders, narrowed her dark brown eyes, and studied him. “We’ll see how much the game means to you.” A.J. flipped through the pages of his chart. “Let’s get through the evaluation so I can see how much work we have to do.”

“Fair enough, Ms. Thompson.” Jared decided to try a different approach.

“It’s just A.J.” She closed his chart. “Have you done any exercise since your injury?”

“No.” Jared gritted his teeth, ashamed to admit the truth to this woman, but other than graduating to crutches he’d been less than sedentary.

“Do you have pain?” She scribbled on her notepad without looking at him.

“Yes.” He responded evenly, willing her to look at him, frustrated when she refused.

A.J. focused on her notes instead, purposely avoided him. “Where?”

“My left leg and my lower back.” Jared wondered how long they could continue that way, gauging which approach would crack this woman.

“Have you noticed weakness in your other extremities?” She paused but still didn’t meet his gaze.

“No.” Jared leaned back in his chair. It would take a lot to win this woman over.

“Are you taking pain medication?” She marked a few more notes in the file.

“No.” Jared answered firmly. She glanced at him briefly, as if measuring his truthfulness. He stared her down, affirming the truth of his answer. He’d not been on any meds since two days after his last surgery. “I hate how they make me feel.” Jared didn’t know why he admitted it to her, but he couldn’t help himself.

Surprisingly, A.J. nodded approvingly. “Good. How are you sleeping?”

“Well enough.”

Jared studied her as she avoided him. A.J. had the smoothest skin, generally unblemished but for a scar across the knuckles of her right hand, puckered and pinkish against her mocha skin. He wondered where she got it, what could have happened to mar that lovely woman and why she’d not had it fixed. Her slender fingers bore the marks of an athlete, slightly thicker at the knuckles, indicative of one too many jammed fingers.

“What sports did you play?”

This got a reaction. A.J. whipped her head up, eyes narrowed, suspicious. “Why do you ask that?”

“Your fingers,” Jared pointed at her hand, “you’ve jammed several of them, many times over, I would guess.”

“So now you’re a doctor?” A.J. mocked, a wry smile toyed at the corner of her mouth.

“I was going to guess volleyball because of your height,” Jared continued unfazed, “but basketball seems far more likely.”

“Can we just finish this evaluation?” A.J. glowered at him. “I have other patients to see who, contrary to your beliefs, are just as important as you are.”

“So, basketball it is then.” Jared nodded, his confidence returned. “Power forward?”

“Either answer my questions or get out of my office.” A.J. pointed to her door.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jared fake saluted her. Maybe not the best idea.

“Get. Out.” A.J. set her jaw, eyes burned with hatred.

“But don’t you have to still do a physical?” Jared asked innocently, playfully, and turned on his boyish charm, the one that always worked.

“Get. Out,” she repeated, eyes blazing, jaw clenched.

Jared forced his body to stand, dipped his head respectfully and with his cockiest grin replied, “See you on Wednesday, same bat time, and same bat channel.”

He headed out, made a show of his struggle to open the door, and exited with a silly grin toward his new physical therapist.





Chapter2



“You really don’t like me, do you?” Jared asked as he started his second set of curls. His arms ached and he could feel the spasms in his biceps. He was really out of shape. But there was no way he’d show any sign of weakness to her.

“How I feel about you is irrelevant.” A.J. stayed true to her promise of cold, polite, professionalism.

“I just want to know why you don’t like me.” Jared’s curiosity threatened to overcome him. He usually only scored this level of animosity from the opposing team’s fans at an away game. It couldn’t be the preferential treatment. There had to be something more, a deeper vein of emotion that he couldn’t figure out and it truly irked him.

“Your muscles have atrophied,” A.J. observed. “You are straining to do two sets at this weight but you were regularly lifting more than this before your accident. If we are going to get you in shape for the season you are going to have to work harder on the muscles you didn’t injure.”

“It’s only my first day back in action,” Jared noted though he suspected she saw through the excuses.

“They shouldn’t have let you get lazy. Knowing how much work your leg and back would need they should have kept the rest of you in better shape.” A.J. frowned. “Did anybody say anything to you? Your doctors? Surgeons?”