Patient Privilege

by Allison Cassatta

  "How do you know? Did he tell you?"

  "Well." Heat flushed Erik's face. He did not want to be having this conversation with his ex. Taking a deep breath, he looked back through the window to Melody, who still sat patiently sipping her coffee. "He kissed me."

  "No!" Marshall gasped. It sounded more like shock than an admonition. "What did you do? Did you kiss him back?"

  "No." Well, that wasn't exactly true. "I told him he couldn't do that. I'm his doctor. There's this line of ethics I can't cross. I had to counsel him. He pretty much told me he's attracted to me. Marshall, I don't want to stop being his doctor, but I can't keep him as a patient if he truly feels that way toward me."

  "Then give him to someone else. Break the ties with him. Maybe he'll get over you since he can't have you anyway."

  For whatever reason, that rubbed Erik the wrong way. What if he did want to be with Angel? Marshall sure as hell had no right to tell him he couldn't. They weren't together, and the way things looked right now, they'd never be together again.

  "Yeah," Erik said with little inflection in his voice. "Look, I need to get back to Melody, okay? I'm being rude."

  "Okay," Marshall said. "Well, I'll see you in a week. I love you."

  "Love you too," Erik blurted just before he hung up the phone.

  He wound back through the maze of people and tables, back to the other side of the coffee shop where Melody patiently waited. He sank down in the seat across from her, propped his elbows on the table and buried his head in his palms.

  A long moment of silence passed between them. Erik just needed a minute or two to process everything, to think things through or else he'd start blurting out random, nonsensical bullshit. Finally, his head popped up and his gaze met Melody's. His jaw clenched and he shook his head.

  "Marshall is going to be here in a week. I told him about my patient, about his crush."

  "What did he say?"

  "Pass him on to someone else. That the kid couldn't have me anyway."

  "And you said?"

  "Nothing, of course. I told him I had to go. The thing is, I can't just dump the kid on someone else. I promised him and his best friend I would help him. I can't give up on him now. And who the hell does Marshall think he is, telling me whom I can and can't have?"

  "Sounds like you need to set him straight, sweetie." Melody reached over and touched Erik's hand again. An absolute seriousness filled her otherwise light and carefree eyes, a side of her Erik had never really gotten used to. In a soft, non-confrontational voice, she said, "Whatever you do, whatever you decide, do it for you. You have to make yourself happy first. You have to look out for your well-being above anyone else's, okay?"

  "I know. I'll try."

  "If you need me, if you feel like you want a drink, you call me and we'll meet for coffee, okay?"

  They both stood and Melody pulled Erik into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her and he kissed her softly on the temple. He'd never been quite so thankful for having someone like her in his life. She was the calming balance his world needed, the light in the middle of all the darkness, clarity in the middle of the fog.

  "Thank you, Melody. Sincerely."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  That night, when Erik went home, everything in his life remained a whirling mass of confusion. At least he'd gotten it all off his chest. At least he'd been able to talk to someone. Now, he felt like he could breathe again. Melody had been inspirational as always, even if she'd only said a few words. She didn't take away the problems and she never claimed to be able to, but at least it didn't feel like he carried the weight alone anymore.

  He stood in the shower with his forehead pressed against the cool tiles, the hot water beating down around him. It seemed like the only way to relax his tense muscles. He still couldn't stop thinking about Angel—or more precisely, Angel's lips. He would be kidding himself if he said he didn't like the feel or the taste of them. He'd be lying if he said the rush of doing something so taboo didn't thrill him completely. But it was wrong, all so very wrong, and the simple fact that he still thought about it made it so much worse.

  Erik scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to wash away the memory of that wonderfully noteworthy kiss, but as soon as those images of Angel pinning him to the wall faded away, images of him pinning Marshall to the bed roared to life.

  His pulse raced harder, charging down toward his thighs to throb in his groin. His body liked the vision, wanted it to be reality. It begged to feel Marshall's warmth again, begged for another taste of Angel's lips.

  His soapy hand drew foamy circles over his chest then slipped down to his navel, then down to his lower extremities. His fingers fluttered over the sensitive skin of his cock and then down to graze his tender sac.

  "Give me a break," he groaned, eyes rolling back in his head. The memory of Angel's kiss and Marshall's cock already had him hard.

  This was just supposed to be a nice, warm, relaxing shower. Just an innocent, quick scrub and nothing more, but when his palm slipped down his shaft, innocence flew out the window.

  "This is so wrong," he mumbled, rolling his body against the tiles until his back was against the wall then he sank down until he planted his ass on the shower floor.

  With his legs spread wider, a rock-hard erection jutted out from between his thighs. His fingers curled around his shaft and his head rested against the wall as he closed his eyes. Maybe if he thought about Marshall, he wouldn't feel so guilty. Maybe if he imagined Marshall's lips, this wouldn't be so catastrophic.

  But every time he closed his eyes and let his mind run away, he saw the wild, scared, lonely look in Angel's eyes. Then he felt Angel's lips on his, felt their bodies pressed together. He imagined Angel's hand stroking the firm length of his erection.

  "God, get it together, Erik. This isn't right," he bit out, but the admonition wasn't enough to make him stop. He gripped a little harder, stroked a little faster. The warm water rolled over his tense muscles and down his chest. The heat hit his cock and he hissed.

  He wanted to feel Angel's black spiky hair between his fingers as he pulled the kid down into a heated kiss. He wanted to feel the weight of Angel's brutal brown stare as Erik pinned him to the mattress and made love to him. He wanted to feel Angel's warm body as he glided in and out, and he wanted to hear Angel cry out his name as he made him come harder than the kid ever had before.

  "Oh, my God," he moaned as his fingers loosened and tightened, waving over his shaft. So close. So very close. He picked up the pace. It wasn't long before his sac tightened and, with one final firm tug, his seed erupted in thick, pearly ropes, coating the tiles beneath him, then swirling down the drain.

  Letting out a forced breath, Erik unclenched his eyelids and his body relaxed as he sat, sprawled out in the bottom of the shower. He couldn't bring himself to leave the safe, quiet confines of those warm, embracing walls. His skin wrinkled and the water began to turn cold. At least here, he couldn't ruin some poor kid's life and he couldn't ruin his own by chasing after a love that obviously wasn't meant to be.

  "You're better than this, Erik. You can handle this," he whispered as he hefted himself up from the shower floor. He snatched a towel from the hook and wrapped it around his body, not bothering to dry off.

  Somehow, he had to make this right. Somehow, he had to get his mind off Angel and ignore the budding feelings he had, or he would have no choice but to break his promise. Erik didn't break promises. If he thought there was a chance he couldn't keep them, he didn't make them in the first place.

  Erik fell back on the bed, rubbing his hand back and forth across the center of his chest. If only he could just figure out a way to avoid the situation without pawning his patient off on someone else.

  He was probably blowing the whole thing out of proportion anyway. Angel never expressed any feelings, just misguided attraction. So he'd kissed him, big freaking deal.

  Erik's eyes shifted toward the leather binder he'd dropped on the edge of the bed
before he'd headed to the shower. If he flipped back the cover, Angel's drawing would be right there, waiting. The urge to look at it gnawed at his brain. It took a lot of effort not to look, especially when he saw the edge of the page sticking out.

  Maybe looking at it would help. Maybe if he reminded himself of the kid's potential, he could easily back the hell off and do his damn job.

  He lost his willpower—or maybe he just surrendered it without a fight. He slipped the tip of his finger under the binder's cover, lifting it until he could see the sketch. It truly was perfection, and in that split second of admiration, his mind conjured up all kinds of things he could do with Angel. All completely innocent, like taking him to the modern art museum, or taking him to the university to check out their art program. If Angel saw he had a future with his art…

  A smile curled Erik's lips. Angel's art wasn't the only future he saw for the kid. He simply couldn't deny it or fight it anymore. Erik wanted him. He wanted Angel in a way therapists weren't supposed to want their patients, in that settle-down-and-buy-a-house-together sort of way. He wanted them to begin a perfect future together, for the rest of his life's memories to include Angel.

  If he acted upon on any of it, all of that want would be his undoing.

  So he wouldn't. At least not right now, anyway. Not while he still had Angel in his care at the clinic. That was final. He would forget about being anything more than a counselor to Angel until the clinic doors finally closed for good. Then he could consider something more. He would ignore his feelings for the kid and when Marshall came back in town, he would deal with that bump in the road as best he could. The decision didn't buy him any reassurance, but maybe it would give him a night's worth of peace.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Afternoon sun spilled in from the large glass windows that opened up to the courtyard. It made the decayed, amber-stained surfaces of nearly every piece of furniture in the room look a little sicklier, and cast a blinding sheen over the linoleum floor. But for some reason, most of the patients preferred it to the comfort of their rooms. Maybe it gave them the illusion of freedom. Maybe it gave them hope.

  The tip of Angel's pencil scraped across the rough surface of the sketch paper. He had one leg pulled under his body, while the other hung off the edge of the sofa. His tennis shoe tapped a steady beat against the worn, cream-colored flooring that lined almost every square foot of the clinic. He kept his focus on every single line, curve, and shadow.

  "Angel," a soft voice whispered from behind him. He raised his head only slightly, mumbled a noise that meant whoever had called his name now had his attention, though divided as it was.

  "Dr Daniels won't be in today. He's sick. I'm supposed to offer you a consult with one of the other doctors, if you would like to take it."

  Angel shook his head. "No. I can wait," he said flatly.

  "Okay. I'll make a note in your chart and maybe when he gets back, he can see you immediately."

  "Yeah. Sure thing," he said as he continued to scribble on the page, though the etched lines seemed more erratic, more passionate than they had before. Missing his session bothered the shit out of him, which was weird since he'd always protested them before. Maybe missing a chance to see the doctor again bothered him worse.

  Shit, was Dr D avoiding him because of that stupid fucking kiss?

  Angel listened to the soft pitter patter of tiny feet walking away when another thought made him raise his head. He looked back over the sofa and saw Nurse Roni scurrying off to do whatever.

  "Hey, Roni," he called out to her. She spun back around. "You think maybe I could get a phone call with him?"

  Roni chewed the edge of her bottom lip for a moment. "I don't know if—"

  "Please."

  His dark eyes softened. He gave her a sad puppy dog look that, once upon a time, managed to win him almost everything he wanted. She sighed in defeat and he gave her a winning grin. "I'll tell you what, I'll call him. If he says it's okay, I'll find some place for you to have a private call with him. Does that work for you?"

  "Yes, ma'am." He nodded emphatically.

  * * * *

  Erik had yet to leave the bed. He felt sort of guilty for lying about being sick, but he just couldn't face the clinic today. More specifically, he couldn't face Angel today. Every time he thought about the kid, about his beautiful eyes and enticing smile, something deep inside Erik warmed and certain parts of his body began to stir. He just needed a day or two to recompose himself, to get his head back in the game so he could be the best possible doctor for his patient.

  The sound of his cell phone ringing on the nightstand pulled him out of the desperate, sinking feeling gnawing at his gut.

  "Hello," Erik said, scrubbing his hand over his face. He hadn't bothered checking the caller ID and as soon as he heard Roni's voice on the other end, he wished he had.

  "Doctor, this is Roni. I'm so sorry to bother you, but Angel requested a phone consult with you, if you feel up to it."

  That defeated the purpose of calling in. He meant to stay away from the kid for a few days—maybe even a week, if he could manage it. A phone consult wouldn't give him the distance he needed and hoped for.

  "Erik?"

  "Yeah. Sorry." He paused a moment, then sat up in the bed and sighed. "He refused to see another doctor, didn't he?"

  "Yes, I'm afraid he did."

  "Of course he did."

  "So, um… will you give him the phone consult?"

  "I will this time, but please, try to convince him to speak with another doctor," Erik said in a kind and non-confrontational voice, hiding his aggravation as best as he could.

  "I'll find a private room with a phone. Call you back in about ten minutes?"

  "Sure," Erik said and ended the call.

  No sense in staying in bed any longer. He'd feigned being sick so he wouldn't have to be face-to-face with Angel, and while being on the phone wasn't much better, at least he wouldn't have to fight off the physical attraction he now felt. Had Angel not kissed him, the thought would've never crossed his mind—at least that's what he kept telling himself. He could've counseled the kid into a happy, drug-free life, but now… now he couldn't even think about Angel without remembering that kiss.

  The cell phone in his hand started to vibrate. Erik considered just not answering, letting it go and pretending he'd gotten sick or something, but he couldn't do it. He already felt way too guilty, and avoiding the phone would sure as hell make matters worse.

  With a sigh, he sat down on the couch and answered his phone. "Hello?"

  "Doc, it's Angel."

  "I know," Erik said as he lay back and closed his eyes. "What's going on?"

  "You don't sound sick."

  "This isn't about me. Roni said you wanted a phone consult. What's so important you couldn't wait for me to come back to work?"

  "Is it my fault?"

  "Is what your fault?"

  "That you're playing hooky from work? Are you avoiding me because I kissed you?"

  "No," Erik immediately choked out. It was a lie and somehow, he knew Angel could see right through it. "Look, I… I can't do this with you. You said you're attracted to me. You kissed me. I'm your doctor. What happened can get me in serious trouble. Angel, it could cost me my career."

  "But I said I was sorry."

  "I know you did."

  "So what's the problem?"

  Erik didn't say a word. He wouldn't dare confess his feelings to anyone, let alone the object of his affection. Some things were most definitely better left unsaid. Some truths only made the problems worse. But the silence gave him away.

  "I'm a problem for you, aren't I, Erik?" Angel said and Erik could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Are you attracted to me?"

  "It's 'Dr Daniels' and this topic isn't open for discussion, Angel. If you want to have a serious session, then we can talk. If not, I'm hanging up."

  "No! Please don't." Angel paused, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded solemn, no
t teasing like it did before. "I'm sorry. I swear, I'm sorry. I just…" He swallowed so hard Erik could hear the sound of the gulp through the phone. "I just need to feel wanted. I know it's not appropriate, but could you—if the situation was different—could you want me?"

  At first, Erik couldn't say a word. The repercussions were potentially too detrimental for them both. But if he lied, it would probably break Angel's heart. Then what would happen? Would the kid drop the program and go back to the streets?

  "Angel, please… don't make me answer that."

  "Dr Daniels," Angel whispered. His voice wavered with the sound of stifled tears. "Please. Please be honest with me. I need to know."

  Licking his lips, Erik cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pushed himself up from the couch. He started pacing the small space between his living room and kitchen. How dare Angel do this to him? How dare he put him in this situation?

  And in that moment, every single feeling Erik had for the kid came to a head. They filled his heart and mind, washing a sense of happiness and peace over him. Maybe he'd come to terms with everything he felt for Angel. The sudden sense of peace made everything okay. Things finally felt right enough to admit.

  "If things were different," Erik finally said. "If you weren't my patient, then yes, I could want you. I could be attracted to you, but Angel, you are my patient and we have to keep our relationship on a very strict, professional level."

  "What if I agreed to see another doctor?"

  "You're still a patient of the hospital."

  "I'll drop out of the program."

  "No! No, don't you dare. You need the program. You're not healed. You still have issues that will drive you right back to the drugs because you don't know how to handle them yet."

  "Then you can keep me off the drugs."

  "Angel." Erik took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "Don't do this, okay? You have a month left. Things could change in that month. Jon could come back. I know that's the only reason you kissed me. I know that's what drove you to me."