Rico's Recovery (Detroit Heat Book 2) (8 page)

I looked around for her. There were seven or eight people dressed in scrubs, which acted like camouflage and made them all blend together. They were working with all kinds of people. One little boy was in a wheelchair. A few older ladies were heading along a short track in walkers.

“It begins.”

I turned and looked up at Lizzie coming toward me. A smile crept onto my face that I couldn’t help. It had been too long since I’d seen her. My heart jumped, and I realized that I was far more sunk that I had thought. I was falling for her, and there was no stopping it. I’d want to change my mind later when she pushed me harder and harder in the gym, but she was only doing what she did best.

I nodded. “It begins.”

Lizzie looked up past me. “Thanks, Marnie. I’ll make sure that he doesn’t come back up to visit you any time soon.”

I could hear the nurse struggling to keep friendly. “A visit is just fine. We just don’t want to have him occupying any of our beds.”

There was no doubt that the nurse would live a happy life never seeing me again. I looked over my shoulder. “I know I’ve been a pain, no need to pretend. Let everyone know that I’m sorry, and I’m so thankful for everything they’ve done for me.”

She forced a smile. “Get back on your feet, Rico. We’re all pulling for you.” With that, she turned and headed back to her floor. She didn’t once look back.

Lizzie walked backwards, beckoning with a finger for me to follow. I rolled after her, careful of my left hand.

“How do your legs feel?”

I smiled. “Itchy. I think I’m going to scratch the skin right off.”

“Pretty typical. How do they feel in terms of strength?” Lizzie was such a mystery. Her voice was casual and familiar, her body language made me feel like the only man in the room, but she was keeping things professional. I wanted to flirt, but it was hard to know when to throw something her way.

“Since the casts and metal came out, I’ve been trying to lift them just to get a feel for them again.”

She was leading me toward a few weight machines. Were we really going to jump right in?

She was listening. “And how do they feel?”

“Weak.”

Weak.
I hated to admit it. Weakness was something I worked hard to eliminate in every aspect of my life. I’d started high school as a hundred-and-thirty-pounder who couldn’t run half a mile. I’d left as a second-string running back nearing one eighty and able to run marathons.
 

I’d taken every online course related to the fire industry that I could find. When I’d heard that EMTs were preferred, I’d saved up and took the course, passing at the top of the class. Every time I identified a weakness in my life, I took the necessary steps to turn that weakness into a strength.

Now, as I stared at the leg press machine, I wanted to laugh.

Lizzie stood beside it. “We’re going to start you off at fifty pounds. I want to stress that we are going to start very slow, especially for the first few weeks. Rico, I need you to listen to me. The look is in your eyes already.”

I knew exactly what look she meant, but I lied. “What look is that?”

She shook her head, and I wondered just how well she knew me already. “The look like you want two-fifty, not fifty. The first two weeks are crucial. Your muscles have atrophied, your joints are going to be stiffer than hell, and your heart isn’t going to be used to such strenuous activity. One step at a time, or this will all be for nothing, Rico. I’ll coach you along.”

As I moved myself from the wheelchair to the machine, I let her words repeat over and over again.

One step at a time, or this will all be for nothing.

Just feeling my feet pressing against the metal was exhilarating. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a proper workout, and even if this wasn’t
proper
, it was a start. I had a long ladder to climb, but I was ready.

“How many reps am I allowed, coach?” I looked over at Lizze. She had a clipboard in her hand. Even in the scrubs, she looked really sexy. I was willing to bet money that she kept herself in great shape. Thoughts of what lay beneath those scrubs made me stare a little longer than I should have.

“Eyes on the prize, Rico.” There was a bit of sarcasm in her voice, and I couldn’t help but throw something back to her.

“They
were
on the prize
.
”

“Five reps.” Lizzie had ignored my comment, but the smirk on her face let me know that there was something more beyond our professional relationship.

Satisfied, I turned my attention to the machine. I thought of my max on a leg press and laughed at the fifty pounds that were now standing between me and recovery. I grabbed onto the handrails and pressed upwards and…

And it was hard as fuck.

“One.” Lizzie was behind me, counting off the presses.

I sucked in a breath and tried to cover up my frustration. I slowly let the press back down, feeling my heart rate increase after one leg press that a kid could have done.

“Four to go.” Her voice was cheery, probably because she wasn’t the one on the machine.

I managed the other four, but it was as if I had someone else’s legs. They didn’t feel like the ones that had carried me to the finish line of so many races. They didn’t feel like the legs that had climbed inside burning buildings carrying hoses. They didn’t feel like
mine.

“Want some water?”

I swallowed, even though my mouth and throat were dry. I nodded, and Lizzie turned toward a kitchen area. Once her back was to me, I sucked in a deep breath. I couldn’t believe how difficult the five presses had been. How much more did she have on that clipboard for me to do? How long would it take me to get back into the shape that I was? Would I ever be back where I was?

I laid back on the press and closed my eyes. I willed my heart to slow down and did everything I could not to let the thin bead of sweat show. I had just wiped my forehead when she returned carrying a cup of water.

Lizzie crouched down level with me. I drank the water greedily, unable to hide my exhaustion.

“I told you, you have a long way to go. But we’ll get there.”

“Fifty pounds? Is that really all I can do?”

She laid a hand on my arm, and electricity sizzled down my spine. “Next week, you’ll be able to do one hundred. The first thing we have to do is shock the muscles. They haven’t worked hard in a long time. You’ll get stronger every day.”

I finished the water, feeling like it did nothing to quench my thirst. “My ankles and knees are killing me, Lizzie.”

Another nod. “Mobility is going to be stunted, too. We’re going to work on that next.”

I looked around, nervous. Lizzie’s hands were high on my thighs, and I didn’t know how to react. She had explained about the joints. I understood what she was doing, but her hands were rising higher and higher. She was just barely under the hem of my workout shorts and my eyes were open wide.

No one in the gym seemed to take notice, but I felt like there was a huge spotlight singling us out. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I grabbed her hands and slid them down below my knee. Leaning in, I said, “Lizzie, what are you doing?”

Her look of surprise didn’t last long before she started laughing. “Oh my God, loosen up. I’m working the muscles and getting the knee joint moving for the first time in months. Sorry if that gets my hands a little too close to your dick, Rico.” Her words were low enough that no one else could hear, but my heart jumped at them, anyway.

She wasn’t done, though. “If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll make sure they never get that close again.”

I couldn’t believe it. Lizzie actually had me speechless. I let out an uncomfortable laugh while trying to piece myself back together. Looking around again, I saw that no one cared what we were up to.

“Not uncomfortable, just unexpected. I didn’t know to what extent I needed physical therapy, I guess.” My voice probably sounded like a teenager mid-puberty. Lizzie was a real firecracker.

Before she spoke, she gave me a quick wink. “Good. Then let’s get back to it.”

I swallowed hard. I might have underestimated her by a long shot.

Keeping a straight face was nearly impossible. Yes, I was working his joints, but I was being quite liberal with my hand placement. I knew that the leg presses would make Rico see how far he had to go, and that would hurt his pride. After making sure none of my coworkers were looking, I decided to give him a little taste of what could be.

I still hadn’t told him my bargain. I wanted him to fully understand just how much work he had before him, first.

He had to understand that his focus was on getting healthy first, then me. Rico would have plenty of time to think about me. I wanted him to see what I did and who I was. I wanted him to see that I was a strong woman capable of taking care of myself. If Rico wanted to date me, he was going to have to understand that.

I was getting to know him, too. Sure, I found his story heroic, his body flawless (or at least, it would be when I was done with it), but his personality…

I could tell that he hadn’t been in many relationships in the past. He was a one-man-army type.
He who travels fastest travels alone,
and all that other crap. I liked him, but I wanted him to know what I was about before I started
liking
him.

After we exercised his knees, I had Rico do ankle rolls. Even something as simple as that can be tricky for a person coming off of such a severe break. We kept the actual exercising to a minimum and focused on blood flow and joint mobility. Rico’s shirt showed off just how hard he was working. There were dark gray spots where he had sweat through.

Rico gave me a hard hour without complaints, but I could see that he was exhausted by the end of it. I admired him. As he’d promised, Rico was dedicated and strong-willed. He had what it took to come out of physical therapy stronger than ever before.

We sat across from one another at a small table. I had helped him get into the seat, but I could tell that he was eager to get standing and walking on his own soon. We could have been using the parallel bars to get him vertical, but because of the aggravation his left hand had endured, that would have to wait a few more weeks.

“You think you can do this three times a week?” I wanted him to be honest with me. I could change the PT plan, but I didn’t think it would be the best thing for him. We both had the same goal in mind: to get him back on active duty. I believed that Rico could do it, but only if he gave one hundred percent.

He flashed me a tired smile. I had no doubt he would sleep like a baby. “Yeah, I think three times a week is about the most I can do.”

I nodded. I could hear the truth in his voice. It may have been the first time I heard him actually admitting to a wall of some kind. A week earlier, he would have requested PT five days a week, at least.

“You’re going to feel sore as hell tomorrow. Two things: drink a ton of water before bed tonight. Working out causes your muscles to release lactic acid, and water will help flush that out of your system. But you’re
still
going to feel like hell tomorrow. Take a few aspirin before bed.”

“Can do, coach.” Rico’s charm seemed to be coming back as he regained his breath. I liked the nickname. It was intimate in a way that we could be open with, and it showed him giving up power, which was definitely a rarity for him.