“You went to Welsdale High?” she added quickly. “I figured you’d gone to a fancy place like Pershing School along with Cole.”
Cole Serenghetti had been a star hockey player at the Pershing School. It was where he’d met Marisa, who’d attended on scholarship. They’d had a teenage romance until Marisa had played a part in Cole’s suspension. Then they’d led separate lives for fifteen years until fate and a Pershing School fund-raiser had brought them together again.
“Serenghetti Construction wasn’t doing well during a recession, so I decided to take the financial burden off my parents by switching to Welsdale High for my junior year.”
“Oh.” She tried to reconcile the information with what she knew of Jordan Serenghetti. Self-sacrificing wasn’t a word that she’d have associated with him. And she didn’t want a reason to like him.
Jordan gave her a cocky grin. “I had an excellent run at Welsdale High School. You missed it all.”
“No regrets.” Then, giving in to curiosity, she asked, “Do you ever wish you’d gone to Pershing School?”
“Nope. Welsdale High had just as good a hockey team, and we were the champs twice while I was there.”
This time, Sera did roll her eyes. “No doubt you think it was due to the fact you were on the team.”
Jordan smiled. “Actually, I was a lowly freshman for the first win.”
She shrugged. “Maybe you thought Pershing School was second-best to Welsdale. After all, the suspension that Marisa earned Cole meant that Pershing hadn’t won a championship in a while.”
Jordan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I don’t blame Marisa. She had her arm twisted by the fates.” He gave her a cheeky look. “And no, I didn’t transfer because I thought Welsdale High had a better hockey team. I figured whichever side I played on would have the superior team.”
“So I was right, after all. You claim all the credit.”
Jordan relaxed his teasing expression. “As I said, since the two teams were about equal, I decided to do my parents a favor by saving on tuition. But I let them believe that the hockey team was the reason for my switching schools.”
Sera got serious, too. “Well, it was a nice thing to do. Apparently, you do have a pleasant side...occasionally.”
He angled his head. “Want to help me brush up on my manners?”
“I’m not a teacher, and something tells me you’d be a poor student. But actually, right now I have something to show you.”
He perked up.
“Heel slides,” she said succinctly, all business. “The first exercise for your knee.”
“Oh.”
She guided him in a demonstration of sliding the heel of his foot along the treatment table, extending his knee for twenty seconds. After that, as he reclined on the table, he did repetitions by himself while grasping a belt that was anchored with the heel of his foot.
“Great,” she said encouragingly. “This should improve your quad function.”
He grunted as he continued, until she felt he’d done enough.
She took the belt from him and put it aside on the counter. “Now I’m going to teach you something you can do at home by yourself.”
He arched a brow, and she gave him a stern look even as she felt heat rise to her face.
“Great,” he managed. “I suppose I should be glad that there are no paparazzi around, angling for a picture of me on crutches.”
“Exactly.” Putting her index finger at the location of one his incisions, she moved her finger back and forth, her touch smooth but firm. “This scar massage is to reduce inflammation. You should continue to do this daily.” She started a circular motion. “You can also vary the direction.”
Sera kept her gaze focused on his knee, and Jordan was quiet for a change—watching her.
“So I have a question,” he finally said, his tone conversational. “Have any of your clients flirted with you? Before me?”
“We haven’t flirted. Well, you have, but it takes two to tango.” With an impersonal touch, she placed his hand where hers had been on his knee. “Now you try.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgment, imitating her motion. “Okay, what about before me?”
She covered his hand to guide him a bit, ignoring the sudden awareness that came from touching him again. “Some have tried, none have succeeded.”
“Wow, a challenge.”
“You would see it that way. But nope, a futile endeavor is more like it.”
He looked up. “Throwing down the gauntlet.”
She met his gaze. “You’re too incapacitated to bend low enough to pick it up.”
“But not for long,” he replied with a wicked glint.
“Now we’re going to try the stationary bike,” she announced, ignoring him.
Jordan raised his eyebrows. “I’m going to be biking already?”
“Your good leg will be doing all the work.” She was relieved they were moving to the wide-open gym. Verbally tangling with Jordan Serenghetti while they were alone was like walking a tightrope—it took all her focus, and she needed a break.
He followed her over to the gym on his crutches, and she helped as he gingerly got on the bike.
Because he exuded so much charisma, Sera could almost forget Jordan was injured. She refocused her attention and instructed him in what to do.
He slowly pedaled backward and forward with his right leg, his left knee bending and straightening in response.
“How’s the pain?” she asked.
He bared his teeth. “I’ve had worse in training sessions with the Razors.”
“Good. You want to push but not too hard.”
“Right.”
She watched him for a few more minutes until she was satisfied with his effort. “Good job.”
“Effusive praise from you,” he teased.
“We’re not done yet,” she parried.
After several more minutes, they returned to the treatment room, where she instructed him on how to do straight-leg raises while resting on his back. She followed this up with having him do raises from the hip while he was lying on his side. Then she helped him sit up to do short arc quads, raising his leg from the knee.
As he was finishing up his last exercise, she glanced at the clock and realized with some surprise that their time was up.
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and exhaled. “Okay, that’s it for today.”
He raised his brows. “I’m done?”
She nodded. “You’re making excellent progress. You’ve gained some more motion in your knee since the surgery, and that’s what we’re going to continue to work on.”
He smiled. Not mocking, not teasing, just genuine, and Sera blinked.
“Glad things are working out,” he said.
That made two of them. For her peace of mind, Jordan couldn’t get well fast enough.
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