Rico's Recovery (Detroit Heat Book 2) (9 page)

“Ice on and off tomorrow, both legs. If you can manage, a long, hot bath will do wonders before you’re mine again on Thursday.” A few of the other patients had left, so my coworkers were back in the break room. It felt like Rico and I had the gym to ourselves, but I still had to be careful with what I said.

He wasn’t as careful. “I’m yours? How presumptuous of you, Lizzie.”

I looked over my shoulder quickly, praying that no one was near us. Once I was sure we were alone, I leaned in. “You know we have to keep up appearances when we’re here, right?”

Rico nodded. “Yeah, I know that, but we’re always here. This is
our
place now, isn’t it?”

“For now, yes.” I didn’t know how long it would take, but someday we’d see each other outside of the hospital walls, and then we’d be free. We wouldn’t have to talk in code or constantly glance over our shoulders.

Rico didn’t like that answer. “For now.”

“Hey, I don’t like it either, but that doesn’t mean we get to play high school and mack on each other in front of the world.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” Rico’s eyes were at my lips, “and it does sound tempting, I see your point.”

I was very glad that he understood. There was something exciting about the sneaking around, but I wanted to be alone with Rico as much as he wanted to be alone with me. That was going to take time, and we were going to have to be careful.

I leaned in close. “Play your cards right—” Alan walked in from the break room in the middle of my sentence, so I had to go with it. “Play your cards right, and you might be walking in two weeks’ time. How does that sound?”

Rico saw my coworker, as well. If only Alan hadn’t come by, I could have really given Rico some motivation.

“I think that sounds amazing. The wheelchair is getting old fast.”

I nodded, my heart racing at almost getting caught. “Well, then, I will see you Thursday. Remember about the water and the muscle soreness tomorrow.”

“Can do, coach.”

I picked up the clipboard with Rico’s exercises for the day pinned to it. I noticed something scribbled on the side of the margin, and as I got up, I saw Rico give me a wink of his own. He had written his number down when I wasn’t looking.

That night, I wrestled with whether or not I should text him. My heart was screaming
yes!
My brain knew better, but my heart was louder. I had watched him work his ass off, and I wanted to tell him what I really thought. I knew it was against so many rules the hospital had in place, and it might have been against a few general ethical rules, but I didn’t really care.

As soon as you can walk, I have to see you.

I stared at the words for nearly half an hour before I finally hit send. I had no choice. Rico was getting under my skin, and I needed… well… I needed him. There was no point denying it to myself anymore. Working with him in physical therapy had been the last straw. Touching him, getting so close to him, was more than I could take.

I had seen it in his eyes; he wanted me, too. After the accident with his hand, I couldn’t risk anything happening that could be traced back to us meeting up outside the hospital, so as much as it pained me, we couldn’t meet until he was stronger. I didn’t know if it would be a longer two weeks for him or for me.

After I hit send, I waited. I waited and I sipped on a gin and tonic. It was almost eleven at night, so maybe Rico was already asleep. I told myself all kinds of things as I waited until midnight, but got no reply.

I didn’t know what to think. We weren’t dating, so I shouldn’t have felt hurt. Maybe Rico had a change of heart, or maybe I just read all the signals wrong. Either way, I went to bed feeling like a complete loser that night.

Lizzie was absolutely right. I woke up the next morning feeling not unlike dog shit. Muscles were sore that I didn’t even know I had. My neck was sore.
When the hell was I working my neck?
It took every bit of strength I had just to get upright in bed. I groaned and tried to remember a harder workout.

When I turned to the edge of my bed, it felt like my legs had been broken all over again. I knew I had lost some muscle, but it was the first time I had really looked at them. It was hard to even imagine the deadlifts and squats my legs had been capable of before the accident.

I sighed, and a thought came into my head: I should call Clay and have him get me started on desk duty.

All that my first day of PT had proven was that I’d probably never get where I needed to be. I’d never wear bunker gear again. Maybe instead of a desk job, I could do fire prevention and visit schools throughout Detroit, making sure kids had two ways out of their house or apartment.

It was a deeply depressing thought, but before I could really let it sink in, Ma knocked on the door.

“Rico, you awake?”

“Awake, but not exactly up.” I looked across my bed to see the wheelchair. It was ready for me to drop down into it.

The knob turned and, for a split second, I wished I had the semi-privacy of the hospital room. I rolled my eyes, glad that I had worn workout shorts to bed, at least. “Ma, give me a minute, damn.”

She laughed as she came through the door and brushed me off with a wave of her hand. “Oh, come on, Rico. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. We’ve got breakfast waiting. How do you feel?”

“I feel like the accident happened last night, not months ago.” I turned to see her on the other side of the bed, and I felt every muscle in my back scream out. “Oh, shit.”

“Rico, watch your language. Didn’t the physical therapist say that you’d have some discomfort?”

As my mother rolled the wheelchair to the far side of the bed, I laughed, “This isn’t discomfort. This is hell. This feels like I went from jogging to the mailbox to a goddamn marathon in a weekend.”

Rolling the chair to a stop, she looked down at me, that motherly smile on her face. “It’s going to take time. Now, go get washed up and come to breakfast. Also, watch your mouth. If I hear Sara repeat any of those words, you’ll be right back in the hospital, mister.”

Ah, the joys of living with Ma and Pops again…

The bathroom took a long time, but I reveled in being able to do it myself. I had a bit of my independence back, even if it was something minuscule.

By the time I made it to breakfast, it was nearly noon. I was ready for the hot bath Lizzie had prescribed. Even before I had my pancakes and joked around with my little sis, the hot water was on my mind. My spirits were up, but only because the food wasn’t hospital food and the setting was familiar.

As much as I missed my apartment, there was something calming about being home. I was going to be able to spend time with my baby sister, and I knew my parents liked seeing me. The fire department had kept me busy, and I was just starting to get in with some of the guys on my shift, helping them with the construction jobs they did on the side. My parents had complained that I never visited, but I was sure they didn’t want me visiting like this.

After letting my sister drag me into the living room for some morning cartoons, I wheeled my way down the hall toward the bathroom. Grabbing a towel from my closet, I noticed my cell was flashing. For a second I thought about waiting until after the bath to check my messages, but I knew I’d be in there for a while, and I’d get bored.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. When I turned the screen on, I had a text from an unknown number and my heart kicked into high gear. When I read the message, I realized that it could only have come from one person. My stomach tied in a knot immediately.

As soon as you can walk, I have to see you.

I stared at the screen. God, Lizzie was trying to give me a heart attack. I glanced over my shoulder, making sure Ma wasn’t about to come in and push my heart over the edge. I rolled to the bathroom in a hurry, locking the door and turning the hot water all the way up.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Lizzie. She had pushed me so hard the day before, and every muscle in my body was furious with her. Every muscle except my heart. It was conflicted, at best.

It wasn’t conflicted because I wasn’t sure about her. I was
sure.
I wanted her in a big, bad way. It was conflicted because I didn’t know if I could last until I was up on my feet. I looked at the walker folded up and leaning against the wall. It was my next step, and it was still weeks away.

With a very frustrated sigh, I began the slow process of moving myself to the toilet, then to the edge of the bathtub. It was halfway filled by the time I was on the edge. I left the fan off so the steam would fill the room. I knew the hot water would do wonders to relieve the strain on my body. I was looking forward to soaking and closing my eyes to meditate for a while.

I didn’t regret my decision for an instant. It seared against my skin for a moment before I got used to it. I dropped in, letting the hot water coat my skin. It wasn’t a minute before I felt sweat prickling on my forehead.

Lizzie’s text was playing in my head on repeat. I had no idea what to respond with, but my imagination was giving me all kinds of filthy options. I wanted to let her know how crazy she drove me. I wanted to let her know that I had all kinds of dirty things in mind for her. I wanted to let her know that I had a perfectly hot bath with room for one more.

She was worried about her job; I could see that. We both knew she was crossing a professional line, and I wasn’t helping any. I also knew that I wasn’t about to take a step back for the sake of decency.

I reached for the cell sitting on the wheelchair and punched in a response to her text sent more than twelve hours prior.

What if I can’t wait that long?

I turned off the screen on my phone, but before I could even set it on the edge of the tub, it vibrated in my hand. I fumbled, startled by the abrupt response.

What if I can’t wait, either?

Her response got me hard. As I laid in the bathtub, I could feel her make my cock throb with anticipation. Lizzie fired me up in the best ways possible. I was starting to understand what she meant when she’d said, “You’re all mine.” I loved how forward she was. We both knew there was something hot between us. Before responding to her text, I leaned back and closed my eyes, thinking of the day before.

I enjoyed working out with her. She didn’t just watch; she was right there next to me. Lizzie was just as sweaty as I was at the end of therapy. I loved that. Even the ill-fitting scrubs showed off just how fantastic her body was, and I was already itching to go back to therapy the next day.
Mind over matter.

I’m getting stronger every day.

Every time I hit send, my heart would speed up. I’d been with other women, but somehow, just texting each other was more fun and built up the tension between us like I’d never experienced before. I don’t know how she motivated other people that needed physical therapy, but I felt like I could take on the whole world. Every time I moved in the tub, my body reminded me that I couldn’t, but damn, did I feel good for the first time in a long time.

I stared at my phone, waiting for another bubble to appear, giving me her response. The soreness was dissipating. I was sure it wasn’t the magical abilities of the water, but Lizzie distracting me with our texts. They were getting less subtle all the time. Her next one threw any pretense right out the window.