CHAPTER SEVEN - CALEB
Tara was there for most of my first therapy session. We were accompanied by another therapist who helped when needed, but Tara took the lead. It was hard at first, with her touching me and leaning into me while encouraging me to stretch further. All I could think about was how smooth her skin felt against my body. I had to force my dick to behave throughout the entire session, and by the end, I was a wreck of sexual tension.
My next session was easier, and Tara didn’t require any assistance to move my heavy limb. I was finally going home that night, which meant leaving the safety of the hospital behind for the first time since the fire. I was ready but also nervous. Part of me couldn’t wait to get to my own bed and truly relax. Still, I liked how often I got to see Tara. Once I left, our sessions would go down to only a few times a week.
While she stretched my sore leg and muttered words of encouragement, I watched Tara out of the corner of my eye. Her eyebrows were pulled together in concentration. I tried to focus on my therapy, but it was impossible with her touching me all the damn time. I wondered how she could do it and not lose her cool.
“I think that’s good for today,” she said. “I want to get you on a pair of crutches. You can use them when you feel strong enough but don’t force it. If you’re tired, sit down and rest.”
“I can handle it,” I said.
“Don’t be stupid,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “D
o you want to fall? ’Cause I can promise you that won’t feel too good.”
I held up my hands in mock surrender, trying not to show how turned on I was by her bossiness. “Okay, okay. Whatever you think is best. You’re the professional.”
She stalked over to the supply closet and grabbed a set of crutches, bringing them over to the large mat table I was sitting on. “Here you go,” she said, handing me the crutches. “Give these a try.”
With a heave, I got to my feet and tried to take a small step forward, tucking the crutches under my arms. I stumbled, and Tara caught me, steadying me quickly.
“It’s all right,” she said. “You’ll get there. Just try again.”
“I got it.” I snapped, yanking my arm away from Tara’s grasp. It was killing me to be so weak in front of her. I stumbled again, but she left me alone. It took a few tries, but I eventually got the hang of it.
“See, I’m a pro now,” I said, trying to flex for her benefit. Tara rolled her eyes and gestured for me to sit down. I did as I was told just as my mom walked through the door. She smiled and hurried over to us, pulling up a chair beside mine.
“What are you doing here?” I asked with a frown.
“I’m taking you home,” she said. “I got the afternoon off, so I can get you settled in.”
“You don’t need to babysit me.”
“Yes, she does.” Tara snapped. “Without help, you aren’t getting discharged today.”
I glared at her but knew she was right. I needed to get the hell out of this hospital, even if it meant I wouldn’t see her again for a few days.
“Let’s talk about your at-home treatment,” Tara said. She held out the papers to me, and we went through everything point by point. “I’ll stop by later tonight to make sure everything is set. If that’s all right?”
“Sure,” I said, nodding. It was more than okay.
“Great,” Tara said. “Then, just sign this, and you can go.”
I scribbled on the page and then let my mom help me to my feet. I used my crutches but I was so clumsy Mom asked if I needed a wheelchair. I ignored her and got myself to the parking lot without assistance.
Mom drove me home, and when we stepped up to the front door, it flew open, and twenty people screamed “surprise”. I looked around to see all my buddies crowded inside my tiny ass apartment. With a laugh, I let my mom lead me through the door. I said hello to everyone, accepting hugs and slaps on the back. My leg was starting to feel weak, but I pushed through, keeping myself on my crutches until they pissed me off so much that I sat down on the couch for the rest of the night.
“I’m leaving, honey,” Mom said, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “Have fun but take it easy.”
“He’s in good hands,” Chief Johnson said. Mom hugged me and slipped out the door.
The chief fell onto the couch beside me, handing me a beer and sipping his own slowly.
“When can I get back in the rotation?” I asked, holding the beer in my hand without drinking it. I was still on painkillers that couldn’t be mixed with booze.
“When you’re back on your feet, Lewis,” Chief said. “Don’t rush it, kid.”
“I’m ready,” I said with determination.