Married by Vegas (BWWM)

3.

"Just like that Mr. Johnson, nice and easy." He slowly brought his arm back clutching a 5 pound weight with a grimace smudged across his face. I gently guided his elbow up higher and higher before slowly helping him ease it back down. He dropped the weight to the ground gasping for air as though he had been holding his breath at the bottom of the ocean, rather than lifting weights for 10 minutes.

"That's not only the highest amount of reps you've been able to do, but also the furthest you been able to bring your shoulder back. How do you feel?" He stood up straight putting his hands on his waist, still trying to steady his breathing.

"Great," he huffed. "Felt amazing."

"Pain level, 1-10?" he shook his hand in a so-so fashion.

"4, maybe 5 at the most." I squeezed the joint area between his humorous and clavicle.

"Any pain when I do this?"

"Nope." I smiled.

"Well, your pain level during that exercise is a little higher than I would have preferred but I'll take it. I'd say we've restored full range of motion." he whooped and hollered throwing his arms in the air before rushing over and hugging me tightly. "Cant...breathe..." I gasped. The ex-marine released me muttering sorry. I shrugged while sucking air into my lungs. "Alright man, that's it for the day." He nodded following me to my office.

"So what's next?" he sat down in the chair in front of my desk.

"Next," I put his file back in the filing cabinet before slamming it shut and sitting down behind my desk, "is isometric exercises. Then isotonic, functional, and strength. Range of motion was just step one. We gotta get you back to where you were, right?" he nodded enthusiastically. "Alright," I pushed up out of your chair, "It's about time we both head home. I'll see you next week."

"Same time, same place," he replied while walking out of my office. I smiled at the comment he made every week when he left. He was always so optimistic, every week believing he would get better, and he did which wasn't surprising to me at all. 80% of Physical rehabilitaion is mental.

There was a soft knock at my door before it opened revealing my boss, and all his sexy goodness. I stood up from gathering my stuff clutching my binder to my chest.

"Hi," I squeaked. Clearing my throat I tried again. "I mean hey Dr. Larson. Did you need something." he smiled softly before looking me up and down. Butterflies erupted in my belly as I stood there allowing him to check me out. I raised an eyebrow at him when his eyes finally met mine.

"Uh... I just wanted to say good job today with Mr. Johnson. He's progressed much faster than I had anticipated."

"Well he's dedicated to getting better and is confident he will recover. I'd say that makes the biggest impact on his rehab," I replied simply.

"It doesn't hurt that he has an amazing Physical Therapist." I blushed beneath my dark skin casting my eyes away from his. I laughed lightly as my mother's words came to mind, playing coy gets the boy. He stepped out of the doorway towards me. "You know, a few of us are going out for drinks tonight. Care to join us?"

I looked up to find him standing just a few inches from me. His deep blue eyes held me tempting me to say yes to their invitation. Just say yes already! I thought to myself.

"Ye-No sorry I can't," I hung my head. He placed to fingers under my chin tilting it up towards him.

"So what's the excuse this time," he rolled his eyes before smiling.

"Exams?" I chuckled softly. "I have two tests tomorrow that I'm really not sure I'm ready for."

"Then," he slid his hand down my arm squeezing it gently, "We can quiz you at the bar. Come on, who better to study with then a group of doctors and your classmates?" I thought about it. I thought about the benefit that comes from studying in groups. I thought about the feedback I could get, and the time I would be able to spend with him.