Downpour: Chapter 17

“

hoa, whoa, whoa,” Ray grabbed the center console of the truck and held on for dear life.

I rolled my eyes as the truck shuddered. “Dramatic much? It was just a speed bump.”

“That was a curb!” Ray shouted. “With people on it!”

I spotted a horizontal parking space along the sidewalk, slowed down to pull in, then thought better of it.

Ray let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god. We’d be late if you tried to parallel park.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re mean sometimes?” I said as I pulled around to the back of the physical therapist’s office and snagged a spot right at the front.

“You’ve learned to tolerate it,” Ray said, not denying my assessment.

“And you still have some serious groveling to do,” I said as I grabbed the bag of Sweet Tarts he had sorted out for me and popped one in my mouth. “I’ll grab your wheelchair out the back. Text me when you’re done. I’ll just be chilling out here. Think about what you want for lunch before we head back.”

Ray paused. The banter we had been tossing around faded.

I worked my finger into a groove in the steering wheel. “Unless you just wanted to get lunch at home… Which is fine. I just figured you’d want something other than sandwiches.”

He glanced at the building, then back at me. “Why don’t you come in today?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know… with me. It’s hot out, and I don’t want you sitting in the truck that long.”

“I’ll keep the windows down, and I brought a drink.” I picked up the thick insulated tumbler I had stolen from his house and gave it a shake.

His thick lashes lowered. “Will you come in with me today?”

“Look, if it’s about the heat, I’ll find a coffee shop or somewhere to hang out.”

“It’s not about the heat. I… I want you to come in.” And like it pained him to do so, he gritted out, “Please.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’d love to.”

Ray didn’t say anything as we got out of the truck and went inside. By the time we made it through the automatic doors of the medical complex, my hair was stuck to the back of my neck. Sweat beaded across my forehead.

I followed Ray as he navigated the elevator and the maze of hallways, then pushed himself through a set of automatic doors. The physical therapy unit was brightly lit and cheery. Upbeat music played in the lobby, and a little sitting area with snacks and coffee had been set up for the plus-ones while they waited.

“I’ll sit over there until you’re done,” I said as he pushed himself up to the front desk.

“You can come back with me.”

My heart did an extra little pitter-pat. “Okay.” I stayed a few paces back while Ray checked in with the receptionist.

When he turned around to wait in the lobby, unease settled in his eyes. I took the seat beside him and crossed my legs. “Ray, I can wait right here if you don’t want me going back with you. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Ray kept his eyes trained on the floor. “I haven’t brought someone back with me before. They always waited outside or in the lobby. But I… I want you there. Other people bring their… people with them.”

I rested my hand on the armrest of his wheelchair. Ray slid his hand around mine and our fingers intertwined. I tilted my head and rested it on his shoulder.

“Ray?” A woman wearing blue scrubs appeared in the hallway and smiled at him.

“Come on,” he said to me as he let go of my hand and pushed himself toward the woman.

“Just tell me where you want me and what you want me to do,” I said.

The woman looked between the two of us and beamed. “Are you going to make me ask, or are you going to tell me?”

Ray frowned, but there was a smile in his eyes. “Do I ever tell you anything?”

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Callie.”

“Brooke,” I said as I shook her hand.

Callie raised an eyebrow at Ray. “And Brooke is your…”

“None of your business,” he groused as he pushed past us and started down the hall.

Callie grinned. “Someone’s in a good mood today. And you got a haircut. You don’t look like a mop anymore.”

“Yeah, and you’re about to ruin my mood,” Ray hollered as he lifted a middle finger.

“Are you coming back with us?” she asked me with a snicker.

“I think so.”

Since Ray had left us in the dust, Callie led me back to a room where two other people were being put through their paces.

“How was your weekend?” she asked Ray when we caught up with him.

I wasn’t sure where to stand. There weren’t any extra chairs lying around or other people lingering in the corner. I parked myself beside his wheelchair and pressed my back against the wall so I wouldn’t be in the way.

“Fine,” he said as he tightened the laces on his sneakers.

Callie didn’t seem bothered by his rancor. She pointed to the set of parallel bars in the middle of the room. “Start with the bars.”

And then she walked away.

“Isn’t she…” I looked around. No one else was coming to help. “Isn’t she supposed to assist you?”

The parallel bars were about four feet away—just far enough that he didn’t have anything to hold onto until he reached them.

“Who? Callie?” Ray shook his head. “No. Her style of PT is kicking a baby bird out of its nest over and over again until it flies. Give me your hand.”

I stepped in front of him and held out my hands. Ray glared at me. “Beside me.”

“Right. Sorry.” I scrambled to his side and waited as he pushed out of his chair. “You gotta be more specific. Saying ‘please’ also helps.”

I watched as he tried to lift his feet out of the footrests. When he couldn’t, he used his hands to pull them out and get them flat on the floor. Ray grabbed my hand and held tight as he pushed up to his feet.

My heart felt like it stopped as he took two shuffling steps forward. I held his hand even tighter.

“Thank you,” he said quietly when we were halfway to the parallel bars. “And I’m… I’m sorry I snapped.”

“You know, you wouldn’t have to apologize as much if you just said things nicely the first time.”

“We can’t all be you, Sunnyside,” he said with a pained groan as he reached out and snagged the bar with his free hand. A few more shuffled steps and he had both hands on the bar.

Callie came back with an armful of resistance bands and weights. “Oh good. You’re ready to start.”

“Is anyone ever ready to be tortured?” he grumbled as he stationed himself on the padded track between the bars.

She laughed. “I want five passes. Try to lift your feet today instead of dragging them. You can do your first pass holding your weight on the bars. After that, I want as much weight on your feet as you can. Focus on your hips. Keep them square.”

While Ray went to work on his first trip down the bars, Callie sidled up to me. “So. Who are you? Sister? Girlfriend?”

“Oh, no. I just live with Ray. But not like that. I work for him.”

“He hasn’t brought anyone with him before. I’ve always wondered if he had help at home.”

“He doesn’t need it,” I admitted. “I think we’re just doing each other a favor. Me being there keeps people from pestering him.”

Callie smirked. “I’d say it’s probably more than that. He’s been different the last few weeks. More motivated. In the early months, he wouldn’t talk to us at all. He’d just half-ass it through his session and go home. I wanted to think someone in the office had a breakthrough with him, but I think it’s been you.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Ray shouted.

“Mind your business or I’ll make you do more passes!” Callie shouted back.

I giggled.

Callie tipped her head toward Ray. “Hang out by the bars and distract him, will you?”

I gave her a salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Ray rolled his eyes when I walked over to the parallel bars and rested my arms on top of them.

“Don’t scowl. You’re the one who invited me up here.”

“And I’m regretting it,” he said. “You and Callie can’t gang up on me.”

I snickered and chewed on my lip. “Is that what we’re doing?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Put that look away, Sunnyside. You’re distracting me.”

“What look?”

He stopped in his tracks, and his gaze dropped to my mouth. One hand left the bar and cupped my jaw. “The look that’s been on your face since the other night.”

“Well damn. If I had known all it took to get you motivated was a pretty girl, I would have rush-ordered some cardboard cut-outs,” Callie teased from across the room.

Ray flipped her off and went back to holding the bar “You look good today,” I said.

Ray smirked.

“I meant your gait.”

He just shook his head and kept walking.

I lingered around the different areas of the office while Callie worked her magic. Ray was always exhausted after PT, and I could see why. She didn’t take it easy on him, and she didn’t coddle him.

He looked happy today. There was a fire in his eyes where I had only seen embers before.

I hung out in Ray’s wheelchair while Callie helped him step up onto a balance ball. From the way she carefully explained how she wanted him to try the exercise, it seemed like it was his first time.

The half-ball was positioned between the parallel bars. He held on to them as Callie kneeled beside him, talking about the muscles in his knee and ankle. My heart raced as she scooted away and told him to give it a try.

Ray’s eyes were laser-focused on the ball.

“Stop pushing on your arms,” she said. “Use the bars for balance, but don’t bear your weight on them.”

“Easier said than done.”

Ray lifted his right foot off the ground and leaned forward to step on the balance ball. His knee buckled, and he fell forward.

I let out a squeak and covered my mouth with my hands.

He tried to grab onto the bars, but his left hand slipped. Ray fell and swung around, gripping the bar with one hand as he swore loudly enough to silence the whole room.

My heart was in my throat. I could see the pain written all over his face. I wanted to rush over and wrap my arms around him.

Callie didn’t touch him. She knelt down and exchanged a few quiet words. Ray’s right hand turned white as he squeezed the bar and pulled himself back up.

Ray was going to be angry that I came to the appointment with him. I could feel it in the energy that radiated from him.

But instead of calling it quits, Callie made him do it again.

His arms strained as he held a bit more of his weight this time. Carefully, he lifted his foot and placed it on top of the balance ball.

I was mesmerized by his arms. By the ink that wrapped around thick straps of muscle. By the way his shoulders flexed and rippled.

I had woken up in those arms. I had laid against that chest. I had been cradled by those muscles.

The lips that were parted with each labored breath had kissed me and stolen mine.

Ray shifted his weight onto his foot and slowly brought the other foot to join it on top of the ball. When his legs buckled again, he tightened his grip and eased off, returning to the floor.

They exchanged a few words, then Ray looked over at me and signaled for his wheelchair. I quickly jumped out of it and pushed it over.

“Thanks,” he said, breathless as he slowly lowered himself into it. Sweat glistened on his forehead. And honest to goodness, it was sexy.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

Ray retrieved his water bottle from the cupholder I’d attached to his wheelchair and took a long drink. “Tired as hell.”

“You looked really strong up there.”

His eyes softened as they met mine. “Thank you.”

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded and wiped the sweat from his eyes.

“What did Callie say when you fell?”

Ray took another drink, then closed his eyes as he rested. “For every time you couldn’t get up before, get up now. And if you can’t get up now, know that you will someday.”

I placed my hand on top of his. “I’m proud of you.”

I walked around the lobby while Ray had a quick hydrotherapy session and massage. An hour later, he was checked out, and we headed for lunch.

“What sounds good?” I asked as I parked in a strategic space in Temple’s downtown district.

Ray glanced at the Mexican restaurant we usually grabbed takeout from. “There are spots on the patio.”

I paused. Ray hated going out in public. Usually, I slipped in and got our food to-go. I couldn’t tell if his comment was just a brief observation, or if he was considering sitting at the restaurant and eating.

“It’s a nice day,” I said. “And they don’t look too busy. The food will probably come out fast.”

Ray tipped his head toward the bed of the truck. “Mind grabbing my chair out of the back? I don’t feel like going back to the ranch right away.”

He looked wiped out, but stepped up onto the sidewalk by himself before easing down into his chair.

“You’re getting there,” I said as I shut the doors and locked the truck. “I’ll be out of a job soon.”

Ray sighed. “It’s just maintenance at this point. This is as good as it’s going to get. Little bursts of energy and my body working, and then the rest is shit.”

“You know, there are adaptive driving modifications that can be made to your truck so you can drive it yourself. Hand controls for the gas and brake. Lifts for your wheelchair. Things like that.”

“I know,” he said. A teasing smile worked up to his sharp cheekbones. “Maybe I just like the little hit of adrenaline I get every time you drive. It’s like being back on a bull.”

I laughed. “I’m not that bad!”

“Baby, I mean this nicely, but you’re the worst driver I’ve ever seen.”

Tingles danced up my spine.

“Yo, Stace⁠—”

I froze mid-stride to the restaurant.

Ray paused and cut his eyes over his shoulder. “Who’s that?”

“My roommate, Nick.”

Ray’s face contorted.

I knew should keep walking and head into the restaurant, but Nick would follow, and I would be cornered. I turned. “Hey.”

Nick looked us both up and down. Two of my other roommates were with him. “Who’s this?”

“Ray,” I said.

Nick’s gaze turned to Ray. “Right… The loaded rodeo star with that ranch job…”

I cleared my throat. “Ray, these are some of my roommates, Nick, Chandler, and Devin.”

Ray didn’t say a word.

Chandler’s beady eyes turned to the truck. “Nice ride.” There was something unsettling about the way he looked at Ray’s truck.

“You owe me rent,” Nick said.

“I moved my stuff out, and I already paid you for this month.”

“Well, until we get someone else in the house, it’s still on you.”

“I was subletting.”

“Still on you, Stacey. Pay up.”

My stomach dropped, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. I hated dealing with Nick, and I didn’t want Ray to see this.

A hand slid into mine, and I looked down at Ray. But he was looking at Nick.

“Get fucked,” he said, keeping a tight grip on my hand as he turned and guided his wheelchair with one hand into the restaurant.