Chapter 4
Mia
“Good job today, Mia,” Rita, my physical therapist, praised as I strapped my brace into place. I wanted to flip her off after the excruciating workout she’d just given my leg, but she was only doing her job.
“Yeah,” I muttered instead. “Thanks.”
“See you again Friday,” she said with a grin and walked away to deal with her next patient.
When I stood, it took me a minute to make sure my brace was exactly where it needed to be and to test out my mobility before I trusted my ability to walk. When I had faith in myself, I grabbed my bag and the econ book I would need for my class that started in an hour.
Tucking my cap down low, I walked out of the PT area and through the door that took me into the lobby. As I did, I nearly collided with a solid wall of male.
“Easy,” a voice I recognized said at the same time I muttered, “Sorry.”
Looking up, I felt a smile lift my lips when I saw Braxton. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” I told him, causing him to laugh.
“I don’t know. I kind of like keeping you on your feet.” Once he was confident I was steady, he released me and took a step back. Glancing at the door behind me, he lifted his brows. “Who’s your therapist?”
“Rita.”
He nodded. “She’s pretty good. I’ve seen her in action a few times. Mine is Randy. Now, he’s an asshole and a half.”
“The drill sergeant guy?”
“That would be him. But he’s gotten me further than my doctors thought would be possible at this time, so I can’t complain too much, right?” He patted his leg, and that was when I looked down, finally noticing he was wearing basketball shorts that showed off his legs.
I was expecting to see a brace on his leg like my own, but that wasn’t the case. Braxton was an amputee. His right leg was gone from above the knee, a prosthetic in its place.
“Right,” I agreed with him, pretending like the sight of his prosthetic didn’t break my heart.
Even after the pain of my second ACL tear, I still didn’t think that would come close to what he must have gone through losing half his leg. But I also knew it would probably make him uncomfortable if I let him see how upset I was. I liked Braxton a lot and wanted us to be friends.
“Where are you off to now?” he asked, changing the subject.
I grimaced and showed him my textbook. “More torture. Economics. Fun, fun, fun. But mandatory with my business major.”
“I’m a criminal justice major, so I wouldn’t know. But have fun with that.”
“Yeah,” I laughed. “See you tomorrow, Brax.”
“Be careful out there, Mia,” he called after me, and I waved.
I got to class with a good fifteen minutes to spare. There were plenty of seats left, but I was tired after my long walk and the morning therapy session. Choosing a seat three rows up, I sat in the middle, leaving several seats open between me and the group of girls at the end of the aisle.
My head felt sweaty, so I took off my hat and finger-combed my hair before throwing it into a ponytail. I was thirsty, and I was debating getting a bottle of water from the vending machine outside the classroom when someone dropped into the seat beside me.
“Morning,” a deep voice greeted, placing a bottle of water in front of me before uncapping his own and taking a deep swallow.
I glanced between the one thing I’d just been thinking of and the one man I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the night before.
“I know you’re thirsty, Mia,” he said before I could even think of anything to say. “Braxton texted me, saying he ran into you on your way out of physical therapy. Just drink the water and stop overanalyzing it, yeah?”
“What do I call you?” I asked as I uncapped the bottle and took a sip. “Beast or Barrick?”
“My mom calls me Charlie,” he said with a shrug. “Everyone else, including my stepdad, calls me Barrick outside the Underground. There it’s Beast. Take your pick. I’m not choosy.”
“Charlie Barrick is your full name?”
“Charles David Barrick Junior, actually. But if you call me Junior, we’re going to have problems.” He grinned, his damn dimple winking at me just beneath his beard, and I had to clench my fingers around the water bottle to keep from reaching out and stroking my fingers through it.
“Barrick it is, then,” I muttered, looking away from the temptation of that dimple.
“How’s the leg today?”
I stretched it out, trying to loosen it up a little. “It’s a pain in the ass, but I’ll live.”
“What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?”
I took another sip, trying to determine what I should tell him and leave out. Lyla knew who I was because both my parents had been with me when I first moved in to the dorm, and I had to assume her cousins would as well. But they might not know about my dance career. “I was the lead in this spring ballet thing for charity, and as I was doing a leap during rehearsal, my partner didn’t catch me correctly. I landed wrong and tore everything. It was my second tear, so I knew as soon as I took a step what happened. Only it was so much worse than the first time, and…” I swallowed hard, remembering how I’d reacted, because even then, I’d known my career was over.
“And you freaked out?”
I nodded and took another sip of water, looking anywhere but at him.
“I would have freaked too,” he said in a low voice that soothed something inside of me in an odd way. I looked back at him, and suddenly, the room felt too small, too warm as my gaze became trapped in his dark eyes. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured and turned his head, glaring straight ahead.
Heat filled my face. I’ve been called beautiful all my life, but it had never affected me like that before. It had never meant anything until then either, though. In the past, that one word had felt like it was just something people said in passing; there was no real power behind it. But with Barrick, there was something more in that single word.
I liked it—a lot.
“Are you a business major too?” I asked, needing to change the subject before I combusted beside him or something equally embarrassing.
“Yeah. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even be in college, but my stepdad wants me to have a business degree so I can take over the family business one day.” His jaw clenched for a moment, and I wondered what kind of relationship he had with his stepfather. “I’m taking classes just to get him off my back.”
I wanted to ask more, but the professor walked in and promptly started class. I tried to focus on what the man who seemed to have a chip on his shoulder was saying, but it was hard to concentrate with Barrick right beside me.
His leg brushed against mine every few minutes, and whenever I would glance his way, it was always to find his eyes on me. Every move he made, every deep breath he took, I was hyperaware of it all.
Feeling his fingers skimming down my forearm, I shivered, goose bumps popping up in his wake. “Stop,” I hissed between clenched teeth.
With a wink, he stopped his fingers, but he didn’t remove his hand.
And I didn’t try to remove it for him, because I liked him touching me.