Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 157672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 788(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 788(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
She takes them, continuing to gape until the girl next to her nudges her arm. Heat fills her cheeks as she fumbles to scan the cards and read through her screen. “I-i-is your address the same?”
“Yes.”
“Phone number?”
“Yes.”
“How about emergency contact? Should I add your wife? Girlfriend?” Her gaze darts to Rowan.
“Darlin’, I completed the pre-registration information online. Everything is accurate.”
At the term of endearment, her eyes flare and she chews on her bottom lip. “Here you go, Mr. Simms.”
I take my cards, going back to Rowan who’s grinning like a loon. “You can’t help it.”
“Help what?”
“That girl stuttering over herself.”
“I have that effect on most women. This one’s a little young for me though.”
“Such a playboy.”
“I prefer the term lover.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Seriously, I’m all checked in like a good boy. You can stop your mothering and get to the salon before Ford rolls up and makes a scene.”
Her smile falters. “I’m already here. Maybe I should go back with you.”
As much as I adore her, this woman is driving me nuts.
“How about I stop by the salon on my way home with a full report.”
She seems to think about it and finally nods. “Okay.”
I lean in, kiss her cheek, and gently prod her toward the door.
A young guy walks out, calling my name, and I hold up a finger until Rowan’s SUV is out of sight.
We go down a hallway until it opens into a huge room loaded with equipment and machines. With my history, I can tell you what most everything in this room is for.
A guy in a knee brace is working on leg extensions, his face a mask of uncomfortable determination as he pushes through.
“Tough kid, shame what happened to him,” my escort states, shaking his head. I’m about to ask more when the guy faces my way.
“Is that Mansfield?”
“Yes.”
“Shit. Saw that game.”
A phantom pain shoots down my leg, thinking about the scene on the court. This kid is a rising star who had every NBA scout drooling over him. Rumor has it he is as brilliant as he is talented. Wooed by all the colleges to play basketball and stayed close to family, signing with Vanderbilt. He got a full ride, taking the team to the top. In one second, it all changed when an opposing player took a dirty move, causing Mansfield to go down.
A riot broke out on the court after he was carted off.
A while later, the team confirmed he was out for the rest of the season and was in surgery for his knee, his future unclear.
The other player was suspended and the NCAA is conducting a review.
“He had the potential. The whole city was rooting for him.”
“They still are. He’ll make a comeback.”
“I like your perspective. You keep that attitude, Wills will have you fixed up in no time.”
“Dr. Koch out today?”
“He got called away. Wills took his patients.”
My skin prickles and body goes on alert, the name sinking in.
“Wills?” I repeat, making sure I didn’t hear him wrong.
The guy glances back at the folder in his hand. “Your PT.”
A shrill sound echoes through the room. It’s a mix between a squeal and a squeak. Mansfield is now sitting up and smiling at a woman in purple scrubs.
A sense of familiarity glides through me when the woman pivots and her profile is in full view.
Wills.
Otherwise known as Willow Mara Richards.
The woman I haven’t stopped thinking about since she ran out of the bar over a week ago.
The background I ran listed her as a twenty-six-year-old graduate student with a clean record.
Her long dark hair is pulled back and make-up is much softer, but there’s no mistaking she’s the shy beauty from Tom’s. She skips in a circle, pumping her arms while repeating something that sounds like a victory chant.
My eyes roam over her, taking in the full view. Her scrubs hang loose, but I remember clearly the curves and lines of her body. She high-fives Mansfield, who seems to be in a trance by her.
“This is going to be fun.”
I tear my eyes to the guy who’s still standing next to me. “Fun?”
“You aren’t the first man in here to have that reaction.” He jerks his chin at the woman who is now helping Mansfield to his feet.
“That’s Wills? My PT?” I play it off to be sure and hide the fact that I’m mentally forming a plan.
“The one and only. She’s quite popular. But fair warning, she’s a ballbuster.”
God must love me.
“Is that so?”
Another woman in black scrubs approaches them, her eyes locking with mine for a split second before they grow wide. It’s the petite blonde from the bar. She whispers something and Wills turns my way, her green gaze filling with shock and panic.
I hold back my grin as she looks like a deer in headlights.
“You’re right, this is going to be fun.”