The Running Series Box Set: Books 1-3 Read online

  Over the next few days, my room filled up with flowers, most of them missing the card. I could only assume they were from Grayson. He had been eerily good at honoring my wish for him to stay away, but a couple of times I saw Zoe and Millie outside my door when the staff would come and go. It was a safe bet they were getting progress updates and relaying them back to Grayson.

  The week after my accident, I was released to go home and start therapy. Cooper and I actually welcomed the invasion of the private nurse, if it would mean getting me out of the hospital and back into some kind of normal life. Or the new normal, as Dr. Kirk called it.

  Cooper gave up his room for her, making friends with the couch on the grounds that he knew my stubborn streak would make his couch-surfing short lived. Personally, I thought that comment was just another one of his “move your ass” pep talks.

  I tried to work as much as I could through the phone and the computer. PMC, really Drew more than anyone else, had been so supportive and decided to assign me a local educational trainer, Jennifer Riley. Jennifer would assist customers with training needs, and I would continue to facilitate logistics to keep the business going. She kept me posted on how the beta trial was going with Grayson.

  On the plus side, even if there was a tiny chance he wasn’t perfectly happy with our equipment, I knew he would never stop using it because he felt some level of responsibility toward me. Of course, personal feelings and problems aside, the purchase still depended on the funds received from the upcoming gala.

  The gala I had once so looked forward to attending with Grayson.

  I spent the better part of each day learning tricks to take care of myself in the wheelchair. I was quickly regaining the full use of my arm, but my right leg still felt like a thousand pound weight was pulling it down.

  Two weeks had passed with no sight of Grayson, although flowers kept appearing from time to time with no card. Every few days I would get some from either Drew, or the PMC corporate office, customers, Cooper, or Dad. It got to a point I felt as though I needed to do some good with them. I appreciated the freshness they brought to my day, but I felt like others might enjoy them as well.

  I asked Marsha, the private nurse, if she could help me take some of the flowers to the local geriatric care facility, and if she didn’t mind, take me along as well. As much as I never wanted anyone to look at me with pity, I had to get out of the apartment and get used to being out in the real world. She loaded me and the flowers up and away we went to make someone else happy for the day.

  This became a ritual once a few bouquets started piling up around the apartment. It was so much fun giving, even more than receiving. Cooper was glad, too, because he said we were living in a field of allergens, and the stylists were starting to complain the flowers were wrecking his beautiful eyes and giving him a runny nose.

  The next hurdle was one I kept telling myself I was ready for, but deep down, I was secretly afraid. Three weeks in the wheelchair was long enough, and the therapist hinted I was doing well enough with my steps that we would try walking at the dual bars.

  I just sat there, staring at the bars, refusing to let myself chicken out. I felt like a child who waits forever to be tall enough to ride the roller coaster, only to jump out of line when the time finally came. Roy, the therapist, reminded me at almost every appointment that regardless of the outcome the fear of not walking could not own me. Power existed only where I allowed it to.

  The moment of truth was staring back at me. He put his hands around my waist to lift me to standing, held on tightly to the woven cotton belt he’d put around me, and waited. And waited. It was like jumping into a cold swimming pool. I couldn’t dip my toe in this time. I had to jump.

  I took a couple of big steps, a gait so awkward and ugly I wanted to hate myself and hate my body, but they were mine. I owned them.

  After that, I busied myself with therapy for four to five hours a day, and with work to do the rest of the day, I stayed as mentally active as I could. I was still very busy with the foundation gala, doing all the fundraising and telephone arranging I could from home, since it was going to provide the funding the hospital needed to finally sign with PMC. Of course, contributing from the safety of my apartment meant I could feel like I was really doing something for the benefit without having to see Grayson.

  I was no longer using a wheelchair, only a crutch walker to help steady myself, since the weakness wasn’t completely gone. The therapy team often behaved like boot camp drill sergeants, den mothers, and cheerleaders all rolled into one package. They alternated between yelling at me and then cheering for me, but I felt confident they were going to get me where I needed to be. Without them, I don’t know what kind of ugly my progress would have looked like. I actually shuddered at the thought.

  After four weeks of intensive therapy, today was my last day go to the therapy center. The rest of my treatments would be with a regular personal trainer to build stamina, strength, and to get me back in shape since I no longer needed the crutch walker. My biggest obstacle was a fear of falling. I lost my balance easily, especially on uneven surfaces. I felt like I was finally a main character in a romance novel, what with the stumbling and nearly falling down all the time. The only problem was I had officially shoved away the hero of my story. There was no one to catch me if I fell.

  This last session was bittersweet. It was awesome to know I was strong and capable enough that I never had to come back to this torture chamber. The smell of disinfectant on all the equipment and the desperate, determined looks on the faces of the other people fighting their own physical battles was something I never wanted to experience again. But I had spent so much time here in the last few weeks it had become a source of comfort, too. I knew this was the place that was going to make me whole.

  It was time to say goodbye. The hugs from the therapists and PAs were genuine, and I even teared up while telling them how very grateful I was for everything they had done to help.

  My therapist gently led me aside and told me he needed to show me something. We hobbled together around the low divider wall to their personal workspace behind a set of glass doors, one-way mirrored glass doors.

  “Dr. Brooks never wanted us to let you know he was here, but he came every day to watch your progress. He cares for you deeply, and it wouldn’t be right, Alex, if you left here not knowing that. Please don’t tell him we let his secret out. We could all get in trouble for allowing him in here. I want you to know he would cheer you on back there. And sometimes, we caught ourselves giving him a thumbs up and quickly had to hide it, so we didn’t spill our little secret.”

  I wanted so much to be furious, and I admit I was really embarrassed, thinking about all the times he must have stood there watching while I cried over not being able to lift a weight or when I couldn’t move my leg. But something else had happened over the last few weeks that wasn’t just about physical strength.

  I breathed a small sigh. “Thank you for letting me know,” I said. “I can’t say I’m thrilled someone was watching me, especially on ponytail-and-sweatpants day, but it’s almost like I could tell someone else was there. Like a guardian angel, I suppose.”

  “Alex, have you ever thought that maybe Dr. Brooks is your guardian angel?”

  I looked up at him in surprise. His words almost sent me to my knees. Trying to hide my emotion from the therapist was hard. I could feel the tears slipping from my eyes. I wasn’t expecting that, and I more importantly, I didn’t anticipate the lurching of my heart into my throat at his words.

  I missed him. I missed Grayson terribly. My heart ached to see him, but for some stupid reason that probably had less to do with trust and a lot to do with my ego, I wasn’t ready to forgive him. And I certainly didn’t want to be in love with a man that was around just because he felt sorry for me.

  Back at my apartment, I helped Marsha get her things to the waiting car by rolling her suitcase with my walker. I said goodbye to the private nurse and couldn’t stop smiling t
o myself at having my privacy back. Not to mention Cooper was going to be really grateful to end his intimate relationship with the living room couch, when he was in town, that was. His modeling jobs were keeping him really busy, and we both benefitted from the little gifts from the stylists.

  He had taken it upon himself to go shoe shopping for me, since heels were still not part of my current dress code, a job I’m sure broke his heart as he passed by the gorgeous stilettos and forced himself to buy the orthopedic sensible shoes. I didn’t mind. Wearing flats were comfortable and the Dansko’s felt the best. They even worked with jeans, regardless of how many tickets the fashion police were going to write me based on my criminal dress code violations.

  I was in the kitchen fixing a snack all by myself when Cooper came in with some more new shoes and several bags of other items.

  “Coop, did you buy out the stores, or is that just some retail therapy?” I teased, giddy from being self-sufficient in my own home again, even if things did take me a little longer to accomplish than they had in the past.

  “No, smartie pants, these are a gift from that stylist I told you about. She’s been keeping up with your progress, and this is a gift from her and her associates to congratulate you on finishing your physical therapy. It’s just a little something special for the gala coming up next week.” I knew he was proud of me too, but there was a little part of him that was also proud of scoring some fashionable things to play dress up with me again.

  “Um, I hate to break it to you, but I am not going to the gala. I can’t dance right now, and I’m not ready to do that much hanging out in public. Besides…Grayson?” I said, cringing a little at the thought of being in the room with him in front of so many prying eyes.

  “If you don’t care about Grayson, why do you care if he goes?” Cooper demanded in a tone I hadn’t heard from him since before my injury. “You can’t have it both ways, Al! You either care or you don’t. Make up your mind.” His words stung, so full of bitterness. Cooper had known me most of my life and had never been shy about telling me the painful truths I needed to hear in a way that only a best friend could. Just as tears began to moisten my eyes, he came from behind to wrap me in a tight hug.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. But I almost lost you, and I’m not going to let you hurt yourself again, physically or emotionally.”

  He held my arms carefully while he turned me around to look at him, supporting me so I wouldn’t fall. He looked me in the eyes for a long minute, then spoke. “Alex, you might find a million men you can live with, but you’re gonna find out there is only that one guy you can’t live without.”

  So much had been going on in my self-centered little life, I hadn’t paid much attention lately to Cooper and what he was doing or with whom. I had been so self-absorbed in my recovery I never even noticed he hadn’t mentioned Mark, and I hadn’t seen him visit. “Is this about me or about you and Mark?”

  “Don’t turn this around on me, Alex. You are secretly still pining for the doctor, and you know it, just like he is for you. He keeps calling and texting me about you, just to check on you. I hate being a threesome, especially when I’m doing it behind your back. It’s totally fine that you don’t trust him right now, but you two have issues that can be worked out. And as for Mark and me, we did have some time apart with all of the stuff going on in your life, but we’re seeing him tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “You bet. We’re going back to Sambuca’s for dinner. Just so you know, they felt so bad about what happened to you they put together a special table just for you tonight, and I just so happen to have the hottest outfit standing by. Before you even think about backing out, I was told by the manager your presence is requested, and they would be devastated if you didn’t come.”

  I hated to admit it, but I knew it would be a good thing for me to get out and be social. For the first time in what felt like way too long, I felt relaxed and even looked forward to going to a fun place.

  Cooper laid out some cute skinny jeans and some leopard print flats that would have looked gaudy if anyone but him had put together the outfit for them. He must have wrestled with throwing me a bone because he held out a hanger holding a chocolate brown, sleeveless silk top, adorned with a beaded, Grecian-style neckline.

  “Brown?” I asked sarcastically. “Brown is back in style now?”

  “Don’t get used to it,” he teased, before threatening, “and besides, there’s not enough fabric on that top for anyone to even see the color.”

  He hadn’t been kidding about the skimpy top. I wasn’t used to baring that much of my shoulders since my skin was so pale, but I had to agree, the way it tied in a silky bow behind my neck made the outfit so elegant and so very sexy. The fabric felt glossy on my skin, and for the first time in a while, I felt like a desirable woman instead of a hospital patient.

  As we entered the restaurant, Audrey, the hostess, and Scott, the maître’ D, both gave me a big hug before leading us to a table in the corner by the dance floor. Since I wasn’t dancing, I thought this was odd, as this area was usually reserved for their special clients. The table was set for two. Mark must have cancelled, and Coop just hadn’t mentioned it yet.

  Noticing my gaze at the table and back to him, Cooper said, “Mark isn’t going to make it until much later. Then we can move onto the patio, and it will be cooler, but for now, it’s just us.”

  We were enjoying our wine as the musicians began taking the stage. Creya was here? That was strange. I thought she wasn’t coming back for a long time. When she started singing, it was so lovely, so calming to hear her voice. I realized the staff of the restaurant had gone the extra mile to have her here. It was a delightful surprise, and one that I would never forget.

  She started doing a cover of Coldplay’s “Fix You,” and Coop stood up and extended his hand to me for a dance.

  “Coop, what are you doing?” I hissed. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough in this restaurant to last me a long time. Really?”

  Leaning in, he whispered, “To answer your question, yes. Therefore, get your ass up and start swaying to the music before I really embarrass you!”

  How was I supposed to fend off an extended threat like that? Cooper was legendary when it came to embarrassing someone when he wanted to with his quick wit and pranks; although lately, he’d been controlling himself. I thought I might have actually missed that about him, and I didn’t just mean since my accident. He’d changed since we’d moved here. I knew better than to argue and let him pull me to my feet then keep me steady while I stumbled awkwardly in the general direction of the dance floor.

  Before I knew it, we were dancing, actually dancing. I tried not to get emotional at doing something so simple, but it was something only a few weeks ago I thought I might never get to do again. I was fully enjoying myself. It was a delight to let myself go, even if it was barely more than just swaying and feeling the music flow throughout my body. But there I was, on both feet again.

  I thought to myself how this song said so much about me at that moment. I was curious if it was by special request or just a happy coincidence. I was just thinking how the flats were a great way to help me keep my balance when all of a sudden Coop pulled back from me, making me pitch forward suddenly. Strong arms snatched me up and held me close before anyone could have seen my humiliating stumble.

  Grayson.

  “Please, may I have this dance?” he asked quietly.

  Cooper must have seen the exasperation of the glare I directed at both of them since he whispered, “Don’t make a scene, Alex, not in front of Creya and all these people, just enjoy yourself…please?” His voice was like a little boy begging for candy.

  I could see for the first time how completely tired he looked, tired from caring for me, and tired of watching me battle to not care about Grayson and losing.

  “Sure,” I said through clenched teeth. “Just a warning though, I am not responsible for any damages if I happen to step on your toes. I am stil
l recovering, you know.” I took one last moment to send a glare at Cooper’s retreating form before turning my cold gaze on Grayson.

  He took me in his arms and held me so tightly, swaying slowly to the music, hiding his face in my hair, and breathing me in deeply, as if he was inhaling me. He was even singing along to the music, letting the lyrics be his words. When the song was over, Creya thanked everyone for the applause and mentioned how great it was to see “old friends” dancing again. Despite the other couples who smiled up at her from the dance floor, I was certain she was speaking about us.

  Grayson led me back to the table, and I quickly realized I had been the unwilling victim of a setup. Cooper had made his escape, and Grayson and I were now sitting at the table for two. Coop was going to pay for this.

  Grayson looked as handsome as ever in jeans and a crisp white dress shirt, and I found it hard to resist gazing at him. And those lips, those beautiful, kissable lips. Part of me was fully aware I was staring longingly, even while another part of me, an ever-shrinking part, wanted to still be angry with him.

  “Did you plan all of this and extort my best friend into being your accomplice, kidnapping me so you could see me?” It wasn’t bad enough he spied on me during physical therapy, but now he sank to following me to dinner and replacing Cooper as my dinner date.

  Shaking his head, Grayson laughed. “This was all Cooper’s idea. He asked me if I would agree to go along with it. He put this entire plan in motion, even working with the restaurant to get Creya for tonight, so he could make this happen. I mean, I’m thrilled to see you and kind of shocked you haven’t tried to bolt for the exit by now…”