by Virna DePaul
She left me once. And yet, here she was again in my arms. I had a second chance and I didn’t want her to slip away again.
Raegan stirred. Her eyes blinked open a few times before she slowly looked up at me.
“Hi,” I said
She smiled. “Hi.”
“Can we talk?” I asked.
She shimmied back under the covers and tightened her grip around me.
“We should talk,” I said with an amused smile.
She barely poked her head out from under the comforter and grumbled, “I know.” She pulled herself back up, so we were eye to eye. After looking at me with what I thought was longing, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling fan.
“I know,” she repeated with a sigh. “But I don’t want to go back to the real world just yet.”
I pulled the comforter down to my stomach and traced my finger along her chest between her breasts. “I don’t know,” I said as the hairs on her arms raised one by one. “This feels pretty real to me.”
“Noah.”
I leaned over and took her closest nipple into my mouth, licking my tongue over the sensitive bud. “This tastes pretty real, too.” I blew a gentle stream of cool air over the nipple and watched it peak from my teasing.
Raegan sighed and her eyes closed. I ghosted my fingers down her arm and lifted her hand up to the soft light drifting in past the thin curtains.
“And this looks real,” I said, studying her delicate fingers. I pressed a kiss to each one and laid her hand across my heart. “Does this not feel real to you?”
She opened her eyes and rolled onto her side. “You know what I mean,” she whispered, sadness in her voice. “We’re not Mr. and Mrs. Erikson anymore. We’re Dr. Noah Alexander and Dr. Raegan Reynolds. And that’s…that’s complicated.”
I brushed the back of my hand across her cheek. “Why does it have to be? Why can’t it be as simple as Mr. and Mrs. Erikson? Why can’t it just be as simple as two people who want each other?”
Raegan grabbed my hand and kissed my palm, holding it tight to her chest. “Noah, nothing has changed. You live in a sphere of influence that destroyed my life, my reputation, and even my sense of self-worth. It took a lot of pain and a long time for me to build that back up. I can’t ask you to give that up for me. But you can’t ask me to give up my self-worth for that either. And, even though this is real”—she squeezed my hand with those fingers I loved so much—”our situation is real, too. Very, very real.”
I understood her fears, but I had to prove that I wanted a life with her more than I wanted a life of fame and money and partying. I had to prove this was the real me, the one in bed with her. I needed more time.
I gathered both of her hands in mine. “Look, the job at Graton’s Gift Hospital? I want that job more than just about anything. But I don’t want it because you withdrew. If you’re the best person for the job, I want you to have it.”
“I don’t—”
“These past years you’ve been a great doctor for a lot of deserving people. But I know you. You can do so much more with this position. It would make you so happy, too. I don’t want to be the reason you didn’t try.”
She bit her lip.
“Here is what I propose,” I said. “You call the hospital and say you’re still interested. Give them whatever lie you need to give in order to get your interview back next week. Then, whoever they hire, they hire.”
Her finger tapped against mine. “And us?”
I smiled. “Until then, we enjoy our time. In a week, one of us will be in Denver and one of us won’t and, well, that’ll be it.” It wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted more with her. I wanted a lifetime. But I didn’t see how that could possibly happen. At the very least, however, I could make sure Raegan didn’t sacrifice her career simply because she met me in the Dominican Republic.
I could see the battle in her mind as she considered what I’d proposed. Slowly, a grin grew across her face and she raised a mischievous eyebrow at me.
“One more vacation?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk.
I rolled on top of her and pulled the covers up over us as she giggled. “One more vacation, Mrs. Erikson.”
Chapter 17
Raegan
My hands patted the empty air in front of me.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
The bandana blindfold around my eyes only allowed me to sneak a quick peek at my white canvas sneakers on the sidewalk.
“We’re almost there,” Noah said, his hand at the small of my back. “Pole!”
I jumped back, and he laughed. “Just kidding.”
I placed a badly aimed kick at his leg, and he laughed even harder when my foot fell away, harmless.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “Just sit right here.”
“Here?”
“Yeah, feel the bench? That’s it—you’ve got it.”
I eased myself onto the bench and reached for the knot at the back of the bandana.
“Uh, uh, no peeking.” Noah grabbed my wrists and kissed each hand before saying, “I have to go run and get something first. Just stay right here.”
“Noah, I’m not sitting here blindfolded in public all alone.”
“Two seconds,” he called.
By the sound of it, he was already running off in some unknown direction. I shook my head with a smile and crossed my arms to wait. This was all going to end. I knew that. This fantasy of morning sex in the shower and lazy couch sex after lunch and rowdy, rough, and noisy sex against the wall after a few glasses of wine had to come to an end. I was just putting off the inevitable.
I tried to push thoughts of my hospital interview next week from my mind and enjoy this extra break from reality. I wouldn’t have even called Graton’s Gift if Noah hadn’t dialed the number and shoved the phone toward me once the receptionist picked up and was calling, ‘Hello, hello, is anyone there?’
The thing was, Noah should get the job. He was the right one for it. Despite the shaky start after medical school, he had a stellar reputation as a brilliant surgeon. Plus, he could bring gobs of money into the hospital with his social media following and rising celebrity. He was handsome and charming and wore a dark leather jacket better than anyone I’d ever known. There was no one better to be an amazing spokesperson and face of the department.
As for me? I’d just bring chaos and public judgment and nasty glances as I walked through the halls. Who’d give money to a department headed by a woman accused of not putting her patients’ priorities first?
No, it should go to Noah.
I’d travel more—those clinics in struggling parts of the world could always use help. Maybe I’d start a free clinic of my own. Eventually, I’d set aside my dreams of being a heart surgeon.
But every time I was about to call back Graton’s Gift in Denver and withdraw for the second time, Noah would magically be there, as if he read my mind. He’d give me a shoulder massage or pull me in for a deep, sexy kiss, or pour me a glass of wine to enjoy while we watched the sunset.
That would end, too, I thought. Noah would be in Denver and I’d be alone. Again.
“I’m back, I’m back,” Noah shouted as he came up beside me, breathless. “Sorry, there was a line. Stick out your tongue.”
“Excuse me?” I quickly covered my mouth with both hands.
“Stick out your tongue,” he repeated.
I could hear the happiness and excitement in his voice, and it made me smile behind the cover of my hands. “It isn’t your dick, is it?”
Noah laughed. “No, no, that’s a treat for later. This isn’t quite as tasty, but close.”
“I swear if it’s your dick, Noah…” I chomped my teeth together.
“It’s not.”
He laughed again as I hesitantly stuck the teeny tiniest part of my tongue out between my lips. “A little more.”
I gave him half an inch.
“Lick,” he said.
I did, and an instant smile c
ame to my lips. “Strawberry ice cream?” I asked as I pushed my blindfold up to my forehead.
Noah grinned behind a massive cone loaded with three heaping scoops of strawberry ice cream. In the heat, pink drops of it dripped down his hand.
I’d mentioned it so casually, how I loved strawberry ice cream, but he’d remembered. Damn, the man was amazing.
Behind him was a wide open desert. The sky was blood red from the setting sun. It painted the cactus and dirt and low mountains in the distance a magical ruby-colored light. As I shifted around, I realized I was sitting on the only park bench in sight. Nearby was a small stand serving ice cream and a gravel parking lot leading to a road, but past that there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Not just any strawberry ice cream,” he said. “The best strawberry ice cream in the world.”
He took a lick of the cone himself and my smile only grew. “The whole world?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
He nodded, licking his lips. “I’ve done extensive field testing.” He tilted the cone toward me. I took another delicate lick and Noah plopped the tip of the swirl right onto my nose.
“What was that for?” I asked as I wiped it off with the sleeve of the sweater I wore over my bikini.
“That is terrible ice cream etiquette. You can’t be afraid of getting dirty.” He demonstrated the proper method of scooping in as much ice cream as possible with each lick.
“Give me that,” I said.
The sticky drips immediately poured over my fingers, but I took the biggest lick of ice cream I could. It smeared everywhere across my face. Noah nodded as he took back the cone. “Perfect form.”
“A ten?”
“No doubt.”
He sat next to me on the bench and we took turns licking the ice cream cone as we stared out over the desert.
“How did you even find this place?” I asked.
Noah glanced back at the little ice cream stand. “Flaunting my cocky bad boy persona was my way of dealing with the pressure of holding someone’s life in my hands every day,” he began. “And being on my motorcycle alone for hours and hours was my way of dealing with the pressure of being that cocky bad boy. Sometimes you come across hidden treasures, like this one.”
He smiled over at me and I nodded. That kind of life took everything from a person. It had taken everything from me.
“I’m tired of it, really.” His tone was much more serious now. “But I’m worried I can’t be a good surgeon without it. If I drop the persona, the fear will come back. If I’m scared every time I step into that operating room, I’ll make the wrong decision. If I act like myself, well, it won’t be enough.”
I licked my finger and wiped away a smear of sticky pink from the corner of his lip. “Our job is difficult. One of the most difficult in the world. And we each get through it the best we can. If you’ve found a way that helps you, even just a bit, you deserve it.”
The rest of the sentence went unsaid and hung between us: even if it means I can’t be a part of it.
“But maybe it’s not the only way.” He turned to face me with earnestness. “Maybe we can be the help for each other. Together we could—”
“Noah,” I interrupted. “It took everything to wrench myself away from the alluring spotlight. I know the appeal all too well.”
He moved in front of me and knelt in the dirt. I turned my face away.
“Raegan, you’re punishing yourself. You’re withholding happiness and making up any excuse to keep yourself from it, even when it’s sitting right in front of you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
We were veering way too close to real, and I fidgeted on the bench. So, I scooped my pinky into what was left of the melted ice cream cone and went to smudge it on Noah’s nose, but he grabbed my wrist first.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said firmly. “But I need you to hear me.”
Before he said another word, I stood up. He caught himself just in time from falling back on his ass in the dirt. I glanced at the empty parking lot.
“I heard you, Noah,” I said just as firmly. “But we agreed to a vacation. We also agreed to not being us, for at least a bit longer. If you don’t want that, let me know.”
He stared up at me in the dying light.
“Now, everyone is gone for the night and I’m not wearing any panties. We can either go fuck on your motorcycle or we can keep sitting here talking about something that will never go anywhere.”
Noah sighed, and his head fell heavy from his shoulders. “Raegan, I just want to be honest with you.”
“I don’t want honest, Noah,” I said, holding out a hand for him. “I just want to feel good. That’s it.”
After a silent moment, he finally took my hand, and I helped pull him to his feet. I felt like a piece of shit, but he was headed right into dangerous territory, and I had to divert him.
I knew what a relationship with Noah would look like. He was nicer than Oliver, and he wouldn’t cheat like Oliver did. But being with him would drag my name back into the headlines. I’d refocused my life and committed myself entirely to my patients. I couldn’t do that with Noah. I was in the right, and I knew it. It didn’t matter that it didn’t make me feel better knowing this.
I guided him towards his motorcycle glistening in the sunset.
“Hey there, Steve McQueen,” I said with a smile as I settled myself backwards on the motorcycle, my shoulders leaning against the handlebars. “Care to escape with me?”
Noah straddled the seat in front of me.
“We can’t escape forever, Ali MacGraw.”
I took the lapels of his leather jacket and pulled him close, holding my lips just a hair’s breadth from his.
“We can try.”
Chapter 18
Noah
I stopped trying to convince Raegan we would be a perfect pair after she made it clear she didn’t want to discuss it.
Any time I even mentioned something long-term, she’d pull away and change the subject to the weather or the horrendous LA traffic. The type of conversations one would have with a bank teller. I didn’t want to be her fucking bank teller.
Her absolute stubbornness was confusing and maddening, so I decided I’d just have to find another way to show her. And yet, she managed to foil my attempts. Every quiet moment I’d find to think, she’d saunter into the room in a white lacy thong. With a single wink, I’d follow her like a puppy straight into the bedroom. I’d be on the balcony alone and she’d drape a long tanned leg over me, causing every coherent thought in my brain to disappear like smoke in the wind.
Even when I’d take my motorcycle out to clear my mind, the image of her arched back, tits heaving towards the millions of twinkling stars, hands knuckle-white as she gripped the handlebars while I fucked hard and deep into her, bike rocking, would flood my weak mind.
I had no idea what I was going to do.
Now it was the night before the interviews. I’d followed Raegan into the hotel in Denver laden with a suitcase and heavy thoughts. The moment we’d stepped inside the automatic doors of LAX, she’d started calling me Dr. Alexander, and not in a sexy, let’s-play-doctor way.
“Dr. Alexander, I think our airline is down this way,” she’d said.
I’d glanced down at her, but she was reading signs in the busy airport, so I figured she was joking.
But she wasn’t.
“Dr. Alexander, would you mind holding my purse for a moment?” she asked when we got to the TSA line.
While we waited outside the gate for our flight to Denver, I’d tried to rest my arms around her shoulders.
“I’m going to go buy a bottle of water, Dr. Alexander,” she said, slipping away from me.
At the back of the line to board the plane, I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Maybe we can be horny flight attendants. I’m thinking Klaus and Peeta. We haven’t had a flight in a year and we just can’t wait until the hotel to be together, so we meet up in the bathroom?”
I tickled her side but she barely flinched. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Dr. Alexander.”
We shuffled forward in the line and I crossed my arms. “Okay,” I finally said, “what is this Dr. Alexander bullshit? What’s going on?”
Raegan looked up at me. “We’re in public now, Doctor. We need to be the professionals that we are. That’s the only play pretending we’re doing. When we land in Denver, we have no idea who’s watching. What if someone from the hospital is there to greet us and my hair is all disheveled and your belt buckle is undone?”
She turned away from me and faced forward, back straight, boarding pass held ready in her hand. I grumbled something to myself. She checked over her shoulder. “What’s that, Dr. Alexander?”
“Nothing at all, Dr. Reynolds.”
She nodded. “Very good.”
The flight was long and completely devoid of mind-blowing Mile-High-Club sex. I was stressed about the interview, stressed about how to keep Raegan from running away from me yet again, and stressed I had no answers for any of it. And no sex. No sex sucked.
Both of us silent, we rolled our suitcases into the nice downtown hotel the hospital had set us up in.
“Checking in?” the man at the front desk asked as we approached.
“Yes, I’m Dr. Raegan Reynolds. I believe Graton’s Gift arranged a room,” Raegan said, wheeling her luggage up to the desk.
After a few clicks on the keyboard the man nodded. “We have Room 1143 ready for you, Dr. Reynolds. And you, sir?”
I was staring unblinkingly at the beige wall in front of me, and Raegan had to elbow me to get my attention. “Dr. Alexander?” she whispered.
“Right,” I said. “Noah Alexander.”
“Very good, sir.” A few more clicks. “Room 1145. Here are your keys.”
It wasn’t lost on me that we’d been booked rooms right next door to each other. I grinned when the attendant slid two small packets across the desk toward us. The grin stayed on my face as we rounded the corner and stood in front of the bank of elevators.
