Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“Besides your head, how are you feeling?” I ask, changing the subject.
She tenses and looks at her hands in her lap. “Fine.”
So help me if she says that word again, I’m going to kill her.
“Liar.”
Her head snaps up and sadness flickers in her brown eyes. “I feel great right now. That’s not a lie, Dr. Dan.”
She uncrosses her legs only to cross them again. My eyes are drawn to the action, only maddening me further. Her fingertips toy with the hem of her dress. I can’t tear my eyes from her smooth thighs and my dick is thickening, which is an annoying problem in these scrubs. As though she can see right into my head, her brown eyes skim lazily over me from head to toe. She pauses at my crotch area, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Don’t worry,” she tells me as she stands. “I’ll keep my virginity intact.”
Fucking hell.
I step toward her and brush my thumb along the pink flesh of her skin. “Keep this clean and the pink will fade after a few months.” I linger with my thumb running along her forehead, unable to let her go.
Her fingers flutter over the front of my chest, making me groan in response. “Any other doctor’s orders?”
“Yeah,” I grumble, “don’t go on this date with Rex.”
She smiles wide. “And why not?”
“Because I said so.” My palm slides to the side of her throat and I check her pulse. “You should rest.” I pull my hand back before I do something stupid like slide it down further to her breasts. “I have other patients to see.”
Disappointment floods her features and I hate that I put it there.
“Here’s to hoping I don’t ever see you again,” I tell her like the asshole I am.
It’s the truth, though.
I don’t want this beautiful, sassy woman to be hurting or sick. And every time I see her, I can’t help but get the sense that something truly is wrong. Something she won’t allow me to look into.
My phone buzzes with a text from my daughter, jerking me from the past.
Jenna: Enzo and I are going to see Cora at Patty’s. Talk soon.
I smile as I reread the text. Jenna is in the process of trying to adopt her old foster sister. I’m proud of her. Anyone can see those two are meant to be together. I’m just happy I have Jenna in my life to be able to help her in any way I can. I’ve tried to make up for lost time by giving her my attention, buying her the things she needs, and simply being there for her when she needs to talk. As much as I want to rewind time to her birth and raise her with as much love as I can, life doesn’t work that way. I got my daughter, but she was already a grown-ass woman with her own agendas. All I can do is allow her the space she needs to make her own life decisions without me meddling.
Now that I know I’m alone, I relax as I continue my task. Stalking Lauren Englewood. Her IG is full of lies too. She takes a lot of pictures of food, books, and sunsets. Most girls take selfies or have pictures with their friends or boyfriends. Lauren is closed off. I scroll all the way back to the beginning of her profile and find a picture of her and her mother. The caption is from Mother’s Day a couple years ago and says, “Always thinking about you.”
Poor girl.
Her mother is dead, her brother is a typical dumbass high school boy, and her dad is absent from what I can tell. It makes me wonder if she’s lonely. The urge to message her privately is strong, but I don’t want to get my ass in trouble in case she doesn’t want to hear from me. With social media, you can’t do stupid shit like leave trails of your unethical behavior. And messaging my patient to check on her isn’t ethical.
My phone buzzes again.
Morris: I’ll be late to the gym. See you soon.
I let out a heavy breath, closing out of IG, and set to getting dressed in my gym clothes so I can go expel some steam. Twenty minutes later and I’m trotting into the gym with my bag slung over my shoulder. I find my way over to the weights and drop my bag. I’m on my second set of curls when Morris graces me with his presence.
“You smell like pussy,” I groan as soon as he joins me.
He smirks. “Chrissy’s clinginess comes in handy when I need to get laid.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Proudly.”
I smirk at him and then lie down on the bench. He sets his bag down and walks over to spot me.
“You seem edgy today and quiet. What’s up?” he asks.