The small, cozy apartment Ashlee shared with her sister Amber was a chaotic symphony of mismatched furniture and eclectic decor, a testament to their clashing tastes. A flickering lavender-scented candle on the coffee table cast a warm, golden glow across the room, its calming aroma doing little to soothe the sharp pain shooting through Ashlee’s lower back. She sprawled across the sagging plaid couch, one leg dangling over the armrest, her face contorted in a dramatic grimace as she tried—and failed—to find a comfortable position.
“Oh, for the love of God, Ashlee, stop with the theatrics,” Amber’s voice cut through the quiet like a whip. She stood towering over her younger sister, hands planted firmly on her curvy hips, her crimson lipstick and tight leather jacket screaming confidence. Her dark eyes rolled so hard they might’ve gotten stuck. “You’re acting like you fell off a damn cliff, not tripped over a rock on a baby hike.”
Ashlee shot her a withering glare, though the effect was diminished by the way she winced mid-expression. “It was not a baby hike, Amber. It was a freaking mountain, and my back feels like it got run over by a truck. Twice.”
Amber snorted, brushing a strand of her jet-black hair behind her ear. “A mountain? Sweetie, it was a hill. A cute little hill. And you, my clumsy little gremlin, managed to turn it into a national disaster. I swear, if drama were an Olympic sport, you’d be drowning in gold medals.”
“Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” Ashlee muttered, shifting again and immediately regretting it as a fresh jolt of pain zipped down her spine. “Can you just… I don’t know, help me instead of roasting me alive?”
Amber’s smirk softened, just for a split second, before her take-charge attitude snapped back into place. “Oh, I’ve got help lined up, drama queen. You’re in luck because I’m dating a guy with magic hands.” She waggled her perfectly arched eyebrows suggestively, her grin wicked. “Zach’s a physical therapy student, and trust me, he knows how to work out all the kinks. He’ll have you back to your awkward, stumbling self in no time.”
Ashlee’s cheeks flamed a bright pink at the implication, her fingers nervously twisting the frayed hem of her oversized hoodie. “Wait, what? A guy? Touching me? Amber, I don’t know—”
“Oh, come on, don’t be such a prude,” Amber interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s not like he’s gonna give you a full-body massage in a dimly lit room with Barry White playing. It’s professional. Mostly.” She smirked again, clearly enjoying Ashlee’s discomfort. “Besides, you can’t just lie there whining forever. I’ve got a shift at the bar in an hour, and I’m not leaving you to wallow in your self-pity swamp. Say yes, or I’ll drag you to the ER myself. And trust me, I’m stronger than I look.”
Ashlee groaned, knowing full well that Amber wasn’t bluffing. Her sister had the stubbornness of a bull and the strength to match when she set her mind to something. “Fine,” she mumbled, barely audible. “But if this gets weird, I’m blaming you.”
“That’s the spirit!” Amber clapped her hands together, her grin triumphant. “I’ll text Zach. He’s probably just finishing up at the gym, flexing for the mirror or whatever it is hot guys do. Hang tight, gremlin.”
---
Less than twenty minutes later, the apartment door swung open with a casual creak, and in walked Zach. He was exactly the kind of guy Ashlee had pictured dating her larger-than-life sister: tall, broad-shouldered, with a jawline that could cut glass and a confident smirk that seemed permanently etched on his face. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d just run a hand through it, and he carried a small black bag slung over one shoulder—presumably his therapy tools. He wore a fitted gray T-shirt and jeans, looking effortlessly good in a way that made Ashlee’s stomach do an embarrassing little flip.
“Hey, babe,” Amber greeted him with a sultry purr, sauntering over and planting a quick, possessive kiss on his lips. Before he could respond, she gave his backside a playful smack, her laughter sharp and mischievous. “Take good care of my baby sis, or else. I’ve got work, so don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Which, let’s be real, isn’t much.” She winked at Ashlee, who was now wishing she could sink through the couch and disappear into the floorboards.
Zach chuckled, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Don’t worry, Amber. I’ll be on my best behavior. Mostly.” His green eyes flicked to Ashlee, a spark of amusement dancing in them as he offered her a lopsided grin. “Hey, I’m Zach. Heard you took a tumble and lived to tell the tale. Impressive.”
Ashlee managed a weak smile, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “Uh, yeah. I’m Ashlee. And… thanks? I guess?”
Amber snorted as she grabbed her purse from the cluttered kitchen counter. “Alright, I’m out. Play nice, you two. And Zach, don’t let her charm you with all that shy-girl nonsense. She’s sneakier than she looks.” With a final cackle, she was out the door, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.
Zach set his bag down on the coffee table, the faint clink of metal tools echoing in the small space. He glanced at Ashlee, his smirk softening into something a little more genuine. “So, on a scale of ‘mildly annoyed’ to ‘I’m gonna die,’ how’s the back feeling?”
“Somewhere around ‘I’m gonna die,’” Ashlee admitted, her voice small but tinged with a reluctant humor. “But, um, I’ve never really done this before. Like, the whole… physical therapy thing. So, go easy on me?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a gentle giant,” Zach teased, pulling out a rolled-up towel from his bag and spreading it out on the floor beside the couch. “Unless, of course, you’re into the rough stuff. Then I can adjust.” He winked, and Ashlee’s face turned a shade of red that could’ve rivaled a fire truck.
“I—uh—that’s not—I mean—” she stammered, wishing for the millionth time that day that she had Amber’s effortless confidence.
Zach laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Ashlee, I’m just messing with you. I’ll keep it strictly professional. Scout’s honor.” His tone was light, but there was a glint in his eye that made her wonder just how much of that was true. “Now, let’s get you lying down on this towel. Flat on your stomach, if you can manage it. I promise I’ll work out all those kinks without breaking you further.”
Her heart raced, a confusing mix of nerves and something she couldn’t quite name bubbling up as she carefully maneuvered herself off the couch and onto the towel. His voice, calm but laced with a hint of mischief, sent an unexpected shiver down her spine—one that had nothing to do with the pain in her back. As she settled into position, her cheek pressed against the soft fabric, she couldn’t help but wonder just what she’d gotten herself into.
“Alright,” Zach said, kneeling beside her, his hands hovering just above her back as if testing the waters. “Let’s see what we’re working with. Just breathe, Ashlee. I’ve got you.”
And with that, her quiet little world tilted just a little further off its axis.
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