. As close as he and his brother were, he still didn't want to go into exactly how he was feeling. Or mention the terror that nipped at his heels while he ran toward resolution. This all had to work out the way he'd planned. There was only one outcome he was willing to accept and it didn't involve accepting the status quo. He would help Kisima, and then he'd be out. He wouldn't be here long. He'd be returning to his life in no time.
"Clearly she likes grown men so that puts you out of the running, little brother."
"We'll see about that. Listen, I'll text you details, okay? I need to commence the torture." Derek checked the clock. He figured he'd given Prince Charming enough time to clear out. Something about the guy rubbed him the wrong way. It shouldn't matter, but it did.
"Cool, see you this weekend."
As he hung up with Dylan and grabbed his plate, he sucked in a deep breath. He could keep his shit under control. She was just a client. No big deal. All he had to do was get through the assessment session with her. He could keep his hormones under control for that long. He hoped. Just remember Kallie. Remember why fucking her is a bad idea.
***
War . This was war. And Derek and Kiss had drawn their battle lines. As for positive things she could say about him went, he was punctual. That was the extent of it. They hadn't even started yet and she was pretty sure she was going to hate every single minute of this torture.
When she'd met him at the front door of the gym, he'd taken one look at her chair and scowled. Well, tough titties for him. He was going to have to deal with the fact that she was in a wheelchair. It wasn't by choice.
He was silent for a minute before he said, "So, Christian is your boyfriend?"
She slid him a glance. "I'm not sure if that's any of your business."
"Well, considering that for the next month or so, I'll be your trainer, confessor, teacher, object of your disdain, and at times your only ally, it kind of is my business. I need to know if he'll be standing in the way of your progress." He inclined his head toward the guesthouse. "From the way it seemed back there, I felt like I was stepping on toes or whatever."
"He is not my boyfriend."
"Ah, I see. He just wishes he was."
She scoffed. "He does not. He's practically my brother."
Derek shrugged as he swiped his keycard at the gym and opened the handicap doors to let her in. "Practically and exactly aren't the same things."
"It's not like that with us. We're really close is all. I grew up here. He thinks it's his job to protect me."
Derek clamped his jaw shut. The muscle just under his cheekbone worked.
"What?"
He raised his brows as he turned on the lights to the rehab facility that TJ had had installed. "What, what?"
"You clearly have something to say."
"Not my business."
"Oh really?" She cocked her head to the side that didn't send shards of crystalized pain through her body. "What happened to my father confessor?"
He crossed his arms. "Okay, if that's how you want it. He's controlling, overbearing. Thinks he knows best and he's holding you back. He thinks he's helping you by doing everything for you, but it's hurting you. You've used your shoulder more in the two hours I've been here than you have in the last couple of weeks since you've been cleared to start working out. It's not good for you and he's impeding your progress."
He stood close to her chair and she could feel the heat rising off of him. He was so tall she had to force herself to look up so she could see him. More pain. "Okay, Dr. Phil. I see you have a problem with Christian. Not to worry though, he'll be in London for a few weeks so you can feel free to torture me at will."
"Great," he muttered, not looking at all happy about the prospect.
"Fine."
"Let's get started then." His body was rigid.
What the hell had bitten him on the ass? "Let the fun begin. Why are you so pissed off, if I'm the one about to be tortured? And you talk about my sunny disposition. You
"Clearly she likes grown men so that puts you out of the running, little brother."
"We'll see about that. Listen, I'll text you details, okay? I need to commence the torture." Derek checked the clock. He figured he'd given Prince Charming enough time to clear out. Something about the guy rubbed him the wrong way. It shouldn't matter, but it did.
"Cool, see you this weekend."
As he hung up with Dylan and grabbed his plate, he sucked in a deep breath. He could keep his shit under control. She was just a client. No big deal. All he had to do was get through the assessment session with her. He could keep his hormones under control for that long. He hoped. Just remember Kallie. Remember why fucking her is a bad idea.
***
War . This was war. And Derek and Kiss had drawn their battle lines. As for positive things she could say about him went, he was punctual. That was the extent of it. They hadn't even started yet and she was pretty sure she was going to hate every single minute of this torture.
When she'd met him at the front door of the gym, he'd taken one look at her chair and scowled. Well, tough titties for him. He was going to have to deal with the fact that she was in a wheelchair. It wasn't by choice.
He was silent for a minute before he said, "So, Christian is your boyfriend?"
She slid him a glance. "I'm not sure if that's any of your business."
"Well, considering that for the next month or so, I'll be your trainer, confessor, teacher, object of your disdain, and at times your only ally, it kind of is my business. I need to know if he'll be standing in the way of your progress." He inclined his head toward the guesthouse. "From the way it seemed back there, I felt like I was stepping on toes or whatever."
"He is not my boyfriend."
"Ah, I see. He just wishes he was."
She scoffed. "He does not. He's practically my brother."
Derek shrugged as he swiped his keycard at the gym and opened the handicap doors to let her in. "Practically and exactly aren't the same things."
"It's not like that with us. We're really close is all. I grew up here. He thinks it's his job to protect me."
Derek clamped his jaw shut. The muscle just under his cheekbone worked.
"What?"
He raised his brows as he turned on the lights to the rehab facility that TJ had had installed. "What, what?"
"You clearly have something to say."
"Not my business."
"Oh really?" She cocked her head to the side that didn't send shards of crystalized pain through her body. "What happened to my father confessor?"
He crossed his arms. "Okay, if that's how you want it. He's controlling, overbearing. Thinks he knows best and he's holding you back. He thinks he's helping you by doing everything for you, but it's hurting you. You've used your shoulder more in the two hours I've been here than you have in the last couple of weeks since you've been cleared to start working out. It's not good for you and he's impeding your progress."
He stood close to her chair and she could feel the heat rising off of him. He was so tall she had to force herself to look up so she could see him. More pain. "Okay, Dr. Phil. I see you have a problem with Christian. Not to worry though, he'll be in London for a few weeks so you can feel free to torture me at will."
"Great," he muttered, not looking at all happy about the prospect.
"Fine."
"Let's get started then." His body was rigid.
What the hell had bitten him on the ass? "Let the fun begin. Why are you so pissed off, if I'm the one about to be tortured? And you talk about my sunny disposition. You
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