Lean On Me #Wattys2016

Part 2

Ashlyn

I clip my hospital badge onto my shirt and set my purse and phone inside one of the small lockers. My mind can't stop thinking about the man from the coffee shop and I wonder if I'll ever see him there again. There was something haunting about his eyes and the rescuer in me wanted to reach out. Around here, there are a lot of veterans lost after coming home and it's usually difficult for them to find their footing now that they're back. I hope for him that's not the case.

I'm not usually attracted to men that aren't wearing business suits with looks of determination on their face. My last three dates have been with different doctors at this hospital, but I'm always left disappointed when there isn't much passion beneath the clean cut exterior. There was just something about the coffee shop customer that has my interest peeked.

I meet my client just inside the door of physical therapy. He's in a wheel chair without his prosthetic leg because we're only set up to work on his upper body today.

""Hey Levi. How was your weekend?" I point over to the first machine we will be using. I don't dare take the handles of his wheel chair. Around here, patients get pretty upset when you treat them incapable when it comes to a task they've already conquered. I'm usually not in this early on Mondays, but one of the other therapists is taking her maternity leave and we are all helping out with her shifts.

"One party after another," he answers sarcastically. We both know he's still a patient in the hospital until his next surgery is complete. I chuckle at his words and help set up the machine.

"Ok, party animal. Three sets of fifteen. I'm here if you need me." I watch as he begins his set. The door opens and I turn my head to see who's coming it. It's the man from the shop. He's much taller than I thought from the way he'd been slouched behind that table. He's at least six feet tall, longer brown hair than most of my patients, and with a few days of scruff darkening his jaw. He's very muscular; with a broad back and strong arms. I let my gaze fall lower and I find his legs as equally fit—at least from what I can see thanks to the old sweatpants that cover his limbs.

The therapist in me wonders what he's here for, but the question is quickly answered when he starts walking toward the other therapist in the room. He favors his right leg, putting more weight on his left. His limp is noticeable, but it looks like he's on track to getting its full use back. Watching him makes me smile. I know how hard it must be to fight back from a devastating injury.

He hasn't seen me yet. That moment comes when his therapist directs him over to a leg machine. His eyes meet mine and his expression changes from determined to unhappy in just a second. They are the color of dark coffee and I can see the disappointment in them from across the room. He doesn't realize he's been rubbing his leg, but with my eyes on him he suddenly conscious of the movement and he stops immediately.

"Three sets of twenty," Jane directs him. "I'll be there in just a second." She goes back to helping her last patient get into his wheelchair safely. She pushes him past me and asks, "Can you keep an eye on Mateo for a minute? I'm just going to help Jim get to his room."

I nod my head but a deep voice booms, "I don't need a babysitter. It's just a fucking leg press Jane." She laughs and rolls her eyes.

"Fine. Don't look at him." It reminds me of something a frustrated mother would say in answer to her toddlers temper tantrum. Mateo pays us no attention. He's already settled on the machine and adjusting the weight. I find myself watching him when my patient takes a rest.

"I'm going to grab some water," Levi says and he begins to push himself towards the fountain. I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him by the next machine. Only I can't relax because Mateo's face is pinched in discomfort as he tries to extend his injured leg. I'm moving before I even really think about it.

"You need to lift your foot up a little higher. Right now you're lifting with a muscle that isn't meant for it. Move your heel up and it will engage your quad." I slide one hand up his thigh and squeeze the muscle that should be working while lifting his heel up higher with my other hand. His hand is on mine fast, pulling it away from his thigh. His angry expression has me lifting my hands in surrender.

"I've got it." The words feel like a bite as he practically growls them. I have two older brothers so I'm very used to men being insulted when I offer to help. He doesn't scare me, but when I realize I didn't hurt him and he's just being an asshole, I cross my arms and glare back at his scornful eyes.

"What you have right now is a bad attitude. What you'll have after three sets of twenty is a muscle strain. If you want to work backwards then you should make sure Jane knows your new treatment plan when she gets back."

His eyes take me in, but he doesn't say a word. I can see his chest rising and falling from his deep breaths. Finally, he lifts his foot up higher and slams the machine as he presses with new strength. Hmm. I guess I do know what I'm talking about. Satisfied that he'll see I'm right, I turn back to Levi and we move on to the next set. I try to get Mateo out of my head and I vow to not look his direction again even though my skin feels alive with an electric energy. That man is trouble...and everything inside me is responding to it. Looks like a challenge might be the excitement I've been craving.

*****Remember to vote and share! I'm also reading all the comments.