Impossible To Resist (BWWM Romance Book 1)(4)

“Not unless you count asking for my autograph.” Jared dropped the dumbbell. “I got whatever I wanted and basically lived in bed for weeks while they evaluated me, operated on me, and basically discussed my future without my input. This,” he gestured at the room, “was not even my idea.”

“Poor baby,” A.J. mocked him, again. “Poor rich athlete surrounded by so many people who care about his well-being and his money and making sure he has a chance to play his game again.”

“I wanted to stay in L.A.” he answered stubbornly. “I wanted to let them follow my recovery, let the media in, document it all so nobody can accuse me of cheating. Because you know that’s what they’ll say. If I make it back, they will say I cheated to get back.”

Surprisingly, this response affected her. He saw A.J.’s hard exterior falter for just a second. Then the crack filled with more anger. “Again. Pick it up and do it again. Give me another set.”

Now Jared felt the anger, too. She had no right to hate him. So what if they paid him millions to play a game? People made millions off of him, off his name and his face. Not that anybody could tell now with his unkempt beard and short, uneven hair. Jared didn’t remotely resemble the Jump Jackson that people came to love and cherish. He lifted the dumbbell and started another rep.

“Good.” A.J. complimented him when he finished smoothly and set the weights down. “That’s more like it. Use that. Wherever you went just now, use it.”

Jared regarded her for a moment. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

She ignored the angry undertones, maintaining her cool professionalism, as if he were just another patient. “Are you having any pain?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Jared barked.

“Then hit the pool.” A.J. instructed. “We’re going to work that leg of yours.”

“Good.” Jared pushed off the bench, drew himself to full height and faced his therapist. “It’s about time we do what I’m here to do. If I needed a trainer, I would have hired one.”

“My job is to get you back in shape,” A.J. snapped. “And let’s face it, you have a VERY long way to go.”

“Just get me walking and I can do the rest,” Jared retorted.

“Right,” A.J. agreed and thrust his crutches at him. “Just get your ass to the pool.”

**

“What? No Speedo?” A.J. asked as she sized him up. For a second, Jared thought he caught a flicker of appreciation in her eye, but then it disappeared.

Jared regarded her simple one-piece and retorted, “What? No bikini?”

They silently stared each other down. Jared had to work to maintain eye contact and not allow his gaze to drift downward toward the swell of her breasts. He refused to give her that power over him, to let her know he found her attractive – or that he’d really like to see her in a bikini, or preferably, nothing at all.

Jared let A.J. help him into the pool, relished the feel of her skin on his. The warm water felt amazing on his leg, rolled around the scar tissue like a massage as they moved toward the center of the pool. A.J. helped guide him, gently maneuvering around his injured leg.

“Have you looked at it yet?” A.J. asked.

Surprised, Jared glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and answered simply. “Yes.”

Her voice changed but he couldn’t quite place the tone. “Most people don’t look at their scars.”

“They are a part of me now.”

Jared actually looked at his leg every day for the past month. He watched the transformation from inflamed surgical scar to swollen pinkish worm. It ended up much longer than he hoped but the doctors assured him it was healing as expected.

“That’s a good way of looking at it.” A.J. nodded approvingly. “Let’s just work on walking today. I’d like to see you off the crutches sooner than later. We can’t really start strengthening until you are weight bearing.”

“I’m good with that.” Jared longed to be rid of the crutches. They chafed his underarms and made his shoulders ache.

They worked in silence, walked slowly around the pool. She stayed close but gave him space. It felt strange at first, stiff, but got easier until he almost managed a smooth cadence. He sneaked glances at her, studying the way she carried herself, the shape of her eyes, the way her lips moved as she studied his leg.

A.J. focused on his movements, gauging every one of his shortcomings until Jared felt naked, stripped bare and on display in a way he’s never felt before. Walking around this pool with A.J. studying his every tic affected him far more than playing ball in front of millions. The silence made it worse, almost unbearable. But Jared couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t be met with scorn.

When Jared didn’t think he could take it for another second, A.J. broke the silence. “I played basketball.”

He stopped and looked at her. “Power forward?”

“Point guard.” A.J. actually grinned, revealing even, white teeth. “I have mad ball-handling skills.”

Jared laughed in spite of himself. “Where’d you play?”

“Arizona.” A.J. started moving again, and spurred Jared to follow.

“Wait, whoa!” Jared remembered her all of a sudden. “You’re that Alexis Thompson.”