A Bad Case of You
Page 24
I needed to keep my mind on my work. The last thing in the world I needed was to throw away more than seven years of post-secondary education and the title ‘doctor’ over some hot guy. Even if he did look like he’d wandered off a runway somewhere. Even if he watched me carefully with heat in his eyes whenever his doctor wasn’t looking. Even if he did return my longing looks with those of his own. Even if he was coming right toward me… I whipped around and headed the other direction like a frightened gazelle on the Serengeti.
And just like a gazelle on the Serengeti, I was too dumb and too slow to escape my fate. “Excuse me,” a deep, rich voice asked, tapping me politely on the shoulder. He even had an accent. It was just too much.
I froze and turned around. I was now face to face with the man that I’d been fantasizing about for a month. Up close, he was even more handsome. His features were even and symmetrical, with a strong jaw, straight nose, and eyes that were a striking, glowing hazel. The color, brown towards the iris and green toward the limbal ring, was unlike anything you usually saw in adults. Usually by the time adulthood rolled around, people’s eyes more-or-less decided what color they wanted to be. His couldn’t seem to make up their mind.
“Y-yes?” I managed to stutter. Usually I was a bit more eloquent around men. Actually, confidence around men was kind of my superpower. Except for today. Today, I was a stammering, stuttering idiot. My face felt like it was on fire.
“My name is Christopher. What’s your name?” I could smell his light cologne, and it filled my senses and left them dazzled. I wasn’t usually dazzled by men.
What was happening?
I blinked at him. Oh right, he’d asked me a question. My name. That was an innocent enough question, and easy too. Yet it was extraordinarily hard for me to find the words to answer, “I’m Caroline Riley.”
He smiled, and it was enough to make the butterflies in my stomach do a mazurka. “It’s nice to meet you Caroline.” His teeth were very white and even. He must have had excellent dental care as a child. “Do you work here? I feel like I’ve seen you here a few times.”
I nodded, thinking that my little plan had paid off better and worse than I’d ever imagined. Maybe some of that bouquet magic had rubbed off on me even though I didn’t catch it. I did hold it for Faith while she said her vows at the wedding last weekend. Maybe that was enough. “Yes, I’m working on my Doctor of Physical Therapy. I’m doing my clinical rotations here in the clinic.”
Over his shoulder, I could see Vanessa and Faith giving me thumbs ups and staring like they were watching the world’s most exciting movie. They looked like they were going to give me a standing ovation when I returned. I dragged my attention back to Christopher.
He looked duly impressed by my profession and my heart fluttered in my chest. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out on a date with me?” he asked next.
I swallowed hard. Temptation hit me hard. After weeks of staring across the room at one another, he’d decided to make the first move. In my secret heart, I was dancing for joy. In my rational brain, however, things weren’t nearly as excited. Well, they were excited, but in more of a panic-way than a joyful one. In a dizzying, giddy instant, a range of possible responses played out in my head as the seconds ticked by.
No, I’m sorry but I can’t date patients at the clinic where I’m working.
Thank you for the invitation, but I’m not permitted to fraternize with patients.
I wish I could, but I’m actually not allowed to date any patients at this clinic.
There were so many things I should have said. So many great responses that wouldn’t end up with me potentially violating patient care and jeopardizing everything that I’d worked so hard to achieve. So many great responses that would protect me from undermining myself.
“That sounds great, Christopher,” I heard myself saying instead, “I’d like that.”
Shit.
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Coming Soon: Touching Me, Touching You
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Chapter 1: Caroline
I should have said no to Christopher. I should have known better. After seven years of secondary education, including plenty of medical ethics courses associated with my physical therapy degree, I should have said no when a patient asked me out on a date. A patient! How stupid could I possibly be? I glanced out the window to see an unfamiliar, expensive-looking car pull up in front of my apartment.
Very. The answer was that I could be very stupid. I swallowed hard.
A moment later, a tall, handsome man holding a bouquet of something red and green emerged from the driver’s side. God, he really was perfect. Christopher was wearing a green button-down shirt under his suit jacket, and I knew the color matched his eyes. Between his strong-jawed good looks, tall, broad shouldered body, excellent manners, and sexy British accent, I was pretty much helpless to resist him. My heart pounded against my ribcage and I flopped back against the wall, knowing it was only moments before he knocked on the door.
“He’s not your patient,” Vanessa chirped from the armchair across the room. “He’s just a patient. I really think you should chill.” She tossed a piece of popcorn up in the air and caught it in her open mouth. “Enjoy yourself.”
My roommate wasn’t reading my mind. We’d been going back and forth about this all afternoon. I rolled my eyes at her and it earned me a pout in return.
“That doesn’t matter,” I replied for perhaps the one hundredth time. “He’s a patient at the clinic where I work. That means I shouldn’t be going out with him.”
Victoria frowned. “But we looked up the American Medical Association rules, together, not ten minutes ago. They didn’t say you couldn’t date someone you met at work. They said you shouldn’t have a romantic relationship with your patient. He’s not your patient.”
I felt my own face fold into a matching frown. “That’s the minimum standard of conduct. What if it doesn’t work out between us? Then he might not want to come to clinic anymore. What kind of physical therapist creates an uncomfortable environment for patients? Any patients?” I heard my Texas twang coming out a bit more than usual. Whenever I got worked up, it tended to slip out. Tonight, it was strong.
Vanessa looked unconcerned about my ethical conundrum. “We can’t all be angels.”
Christopher knocked on the door.
Vanessa smirked, grabbed her popcorn awkwardly under her arm and shuffled out of her blanket-cocoon to disappear down the hallway. “Have fun tonight!” she said. “Don’t fuck it up.”
Gee, thanks Vanessa.
I watched her go in dismay and took a deep cleaning breath to work up my courage. I could do this. I would just politely explain to Christopher that I’d made a mistake and couldn’t go on a date with him. It wasn’t too late.
I opened the door to see Christopher’s white, even smile. The man had great teeth. Movie star teeth. As someone who went through three long years of braces as a teenager and still wore a retainer at night, it was hard not to be dazzled by great teeth. In my moment of weakness, Christopher spoke.
“Hi. I love your dress, Caroline,” his voice was deep, smooth, and appreciative. He extended the flowers to me. “I, um, I got you some flowers, I hope that isn’t too corny.”
“Hi.” I felt my face turn the same color as the roses. I accepted them with one treacherous hand and smoothed down the hem of my pink dress with the other. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had brought me flowers. I had an inkling that it had been high school. “These are beautiful. Thank you. Come on in.”
Christopher followed me inside the threshold of the little apartment that I shared with Vanessa. He seemed too big for the space somehow, too tall and too posh. Everything about Christopher seemed to scream class and affluence. Considering my own background in the piney woods of far east Texas, an area known primarily for rednecks and alligators, I knew when I was outclassed.
Insecurity flared out of nowhere as I looked around at my cluttered, matchbook sized kitchen. I really should have cleaned up a bit more. There were beer bottles on the kitchen counter. They probably made me look like a lush. I cringed internally.
“I made reservations for us at an Italian restaurant, I hope that’s ok,” Christopher said as I awkwardly groped inside a kitchen cabinet for a vase to hold the flowers. His tone didn’t indicate any disappointment with the tidiness of my apartment. Perhaps he was just being polite.
This guy is way out of your league, Caroline.
Even if he wasn’t, you’ve got a conflict of interest.
Rip the band aid off.
I whipped around, and he blinked at me in surprise and retreated a step. “I can’t go out with you tonight,” I blurted. It came out as one overly loud, rushed hyphenate. I-can’t-go-out-with-you-tonight. I might have said it so quickly it wasn’t intelligible.
His lips parted in apparent confusion. “Caroline?”
Once the floodgates began to crack open, the rushing words wouldn’t be contained. “I’m sorry I’m not allowed to date patients and I really shouldn’t have accepted your invitation to go out on a date, but I did, but I shouldn’t have, and I don’t want to create a hostile environment for your physical therapy and that means that I really shouldn’t see you, and I’m super sorry but that’s just the way it has to be.” All of that came out with no breathing breaks in a horrible, grammatical disaster of a run-on sentence. Somewhere, my English teacher from sixth grade, Mrs. Cunningham, probably felt a chill. I’d always been more talkative than well-spoken, and high emotion tended to make things worse. I sucked in a lungful of air before Christopher could reply and continued. “It’s not that I don’t like you and I promise that I didn’t mean to lead you on I just got overwhelmed and now I really have to fix this before it gets any worse.”
To my surprise, Christopher smiled. “You’re concerned about my recovery?”
I nodded, feeling flushed and short of breath. Why did he get to be calm and collected and I had to be a nervous, emotional mess? That didn’t seem very fair. Usually I was pretty confident and cool in front of guys, too. Christopher seemed to be my kryptonite. This night with Christopher was a disaster, and I wasn’t even going to get to date the guy.
“Yes,” I answered haltingly, still feeling my mouth was two steps in front of my brain, “I can’t date you if I think that it could compromise your care.”
His smile widened. “Then you’ll be happy to learn that I’m pretty much finished with my time at the clinic.”
I felt my heart flutter. Relief slid through me like dopamine. “You are?”
He nodded and shrugged. “Yes. I meant to tell you during dinner, but I’m going to be leaving Austin soon and going home.”
The pounding of my heartbeat throbbed louder. He was leaving? But we’d only just finally… I banished the thought. I may have been daydreaming about him for the past few weeks, and making eyes at him across the clinic, but I never should have done so. This was probably good. It was good that he was leaving, because I shouldn’t be seeing him anyway. A mixture of frustration, relief, and confusion shot through me.
“Where’s home at?” I asked after a moment. I wondered if my voice sounded as disappointed as I was. He might be unattainable, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want him any less.
He raised an eyebrow. “Originally? Essex. Lately, Botswana. I travel a lot though.”
“Forgive my bad geography, but that’s in Africa, right?” I was pretty sure it was in Africa. My curiosity was piqued. I’d always wanted to travel, but it was never in the cards.
He nodded. “It’s a tiny country adjacent to South Africa.”
That was very, very far away from Austin, Texas. About as far away as you could get. “How did you end up there?” I paused. “Actually, if that’s home, how did you end up here?”
His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Can I tell you about it over dinner?”
Temptation had my head nodding before I think better of it. If Christopher was leaving town soon, that meant that he couldn’t be looking for anything very serious with me. Maybe he was only looking for a hookup. Still, I couldn’t help but be curious about him. I’d never met anyone like him before, and likely never would again. What chance did a girl who grew up in a shotgun shack in Trinity, Texas have with a jet setter like Christopher? None whatsoever, especially considering that he was a patient. I might as well indulge my curiosity tonight.
Vanessa was right. We can’t all be angels.
Admit You Want Me
Special Teaser
‘Admit You Want Me’ is the first book in the Lone Star Lovers series, featuring Emma and Ward.
“Come on, Emma!” Kate cried, banging on my bedroom door for the fifth or sixth time. “You can’t hide in there forever. I’m sure you look fine. People are going to be here soon.”
I glanced at the clock. She was right. It was almost go time. I slid into my green, marabou trimmed boudoir slippers and straightened my sheer tights. I had a bad feeling that I looked more than a little bit like a stripper.
“Just a second,” I yelled. “I’m almost ready.”
I frowned at my reflection in the mirror, poked at my fake eyelashes, and adjusted the mesh and wire wings strapped to my back. The wings were already annoying me, but not as much as the length of my dress.
My Tinkerbell costume was much sexier and more revealing than I’d thought it would be when I bought it online. My boobs were threatening to spill out of the bright green satin bustier, and the nearly transparent matching skirt just barely made it halfway down my thighs. This is what I got for trusting the photographs on eBay. It would just have to do. The only other option at this point was cutting a couple of eye holes in a sheet and going to our Halloween party as a ghost.
“Wow,” Kate stammered when I opened the door a second later. “You look amazing!”
I smiled nervously. “It’s not too slutty?”
Kate shook her head. “It’s the exactly right amount of slutty. The fact that it’s your real hair up there in that silly bun is what makes it.”
Kate was blonde for Halloween too, but her flowing, gold Rapunzel hair was a wig. Our Halloween party was Disney themed and our apartment looked a bit like a five-year old’s birthday party (but with way more booze). I grabbed myself a cup of the pink punch and tried to work myself up for being social.
My current pair of wings notwithstanding, I was not a natural social butterfly like Kate. If it wasn’t for her, I probably wouldn’t have any friends. Moving in with Kate at the beginning of my sophomore year was the best decision I could have made for my social life, even if it meant living inside a kegger one night a week. This Halloween party promised to be no exception.
Costumed people began to trickle into our apartment, armed with beer, smiles, and excitement. I struggled to fit in. After the disaster that was my freshman year at a school back east, coming to the University of Texas had been a case of serious culture shock. They don’t call it a party school for nothing, and I’m a natural introvert and a bit of a nerd. Before coming here, I’d never had a drop to drink.
Unluckily for my liver, I was also a quick study. I’d determined that I hated most beer, most wine, and anything with a harsh liquor taste, but I loved anything sweet and fruity. Thankfully, Austin had a number of local breweries that specialized in ciders, shandys, and even sour beers.
“Are fairies supposed to be drinking, Tinkerbell?” someone asked me when I went to grab another apple cider from the fridge. I spun around and straightened, surprised.
Kate’s brother
Ward was leaning against the door. I hadn’t realized that he’d followed me. I straightened abruptly, hoping my ass hadn’t been totally exposed by my tiny skirt when I bent over.
My breathing sped up and I felt myself biting down on my bottom lip nervously. The hand not clutching a bottle sent fingertips to my hemline and found that my skirt had ridden up a bit. Yeah, he’d definitely just seen my ass. His cocked eyebrow and even cockier smile told me that he had appreciated it, too. I felt a hot flush burn my cheeks.
It didn’t help that he seemed to know exactly what he did to me every time he came around, although this was only the third time I’d met him since Kate and I moved in together in August. I couldn’t hide my attraction to him at all. He teased me mercilessly at every opportunity, and it felt like he did it just to see me blush. He clearly found how bookish, quiet, and prone to embarrassment I was simply hilarious.
I wasn’t shy for his entertainment. I wished I could be different. But I would never be an extrovert like Ward, or his sister. Even dressed up like Tinkerbell and pumped full of alcohol, I was still just doomed to be a wallflower.
Ward and I stared across the kitchen at each other. Usually, I turned into a stammering mess whenever he was around. Thanks to the magic of alcohol, that wouldn’t be happening tonight.
I flicked my gaze up and down his figure and then did my best to tear my eyes away again. It was all I could do not to sigh dreamily. Broad shoulders and an obviously muscled chest narrowed to a slim waist and long legs. Powerful, sinuous arms ended in large, strong-looking hands. But it was his classically handsome face, with fair skin, dark blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and dark curly hair, that made my heart pound against my ribs.
“Who are you, the morality police?” I smiled at him confidently and floated across the kitchen floor toward him. I was buzzed and feeling good. Brave. For once I was brave. “I might be underage, but at least I follow directions. You’re not even wearing a costume.” I leveled a finger at his chest and pushed him back an inch. He laughed lightly.