The Love Doctors

by Fontaine, Bella

  I watched him shrug into it, then he walked back over to me and crouched down beside me. I took note of his wide shoulders and the pensive blue gaze he gave me.

  “You’re not gonna change your mind on me tomorrow, are you?” he asked.

  “No, if I say I’m going to do something, I’ll do it. I’m just curious as to what I’m getting myself into.”

  “Take the risk and see where it takes you.”

  “I don’t like risks.” I intensified my stare.

  “I gathered that, and I can’t wait to take that guard of yours down.” The corners of his sensual lips turned up into an easy smile.

  “What guard?”

  “The one you always have up. The eyes are windows to the soul. I can’t see yours. You let me in for about five seconds last night.”

  “I was drunk, and I said far too much.”

  “It was nice getting to see the real you for five seconds.” There was that smile again.

  “You’re getting the real me now.” I knew what he meant, but there was no way I was going to spill the tea to a guy who’d given me so much grief over the last week.

  “It’s a version of you.”

  “Well, you’d better get used to this version of me. I’m not an open book like you.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not an open book. You’ll get to know me properly. I’m just giving you little bits of me to ease you in gently. That way, you won’t be too surprised when you fall for me.”

  “When?” I couldn’t keep the shrill out of my voice.

  “Yes, when.” His eyes sparked when he smiled at me, and that bad-boy vibe rippled off him in strong, sexy waves. “I can make even you fall for me Jada Dane.”

  “You are one presumptuous charmer. I hated you last week, and I’ve decided you’re a decent enough human being after last night. I’m still trying to get to the part where I might like you.”

  “Don’t lie to yourself, Goddess. You like me. You like me well enough, the same way I like you. I’ve given you just enough to get my foot through the door. Some Psych 101 elements to get you to see I’m not always an asshole.”

  I looked at him, assessing him. This guy almost reminded me of myself. I knew opposites attracted like crazy, but no one ever delved into the prospect of attracting someone who was just like you. Sure, I knew people looked for similarities, and that was the common ground they had, but this was different.

  He made me want to know more about him, and that surprised the hell out of me.

  “What inspired you to be a therapist? You haven’t said. Football and psychology don’t exactly go hand in hand; plus, you’re not the usual type of guy I would expect to go into a career like that.”

  He pulled in a steady breath. “How about I spoon-feed you the answer? We’ll start with tomorrow, and you can piece together the rest.”

  It was interesting he would say that. I hated waiting for anything, especially when I was super curious. “Why can’t you just tell me now? You started telling me about your methods. It should be a simple question.”

  “Jada, let’s just agree to be real with each other. So, I won’t accept that bullshit answer you gave about being inspired by your clients and the people around you. I’m going to round back and say that your methods were inspired by something that happened to you, by a person who did something to you. Something so effective it settled in your mind and guided you. I’m going to be willing to bet too that your person didn’t treat you right. My person was good to me.”

  The other day, I’d hated the fact that he could see through me. I did build up a guard, one designed to keep everyone out, but he was taking the wall down one brick at a time.

  His person had been good to him. That was nice. It made sense too, based on what he said. Now I wanted to know what happened to that person.

  “That’s sweet.”

  “It’s truth. So, hey, do I get a kiss for the road?” His cockiness returned.

  I blinked several times because the request threw me. “What?”

  “A kiss from the gorgeous Jada Dane, that’s all I require for payment.”

  “Payment?” I laughed.

  “I played bodyguard last night, then nurse, then cook, then therapist. Do you know what I charge by the hour? Miss Lady, you’ve had my services for over twelve hours. I gave my all, and bonuses. You’re lucky all I want is a kiss.”

  I was trying so hard to stop laughing, but I couldn’t.

  “You are so crazy.”

  “Come here.” He crooked his finger and beckoned me to come.

  I shook my head, still laughing, but he just ignored me. Ivan moved closer, sitting on the edge of the sofa next to me. When he cupped my face, my laughter subsided, and I found myself helpless and hopelessly unable to resist.

  Whatever force sparked between us drew me to him. It pulled me right in as he lowered to my lips and brushed them across mine.

  The mere brush sent a tingle of electricity straight through my body, catching me off guard because I never expected to feel that. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t that. It seemed to throw him too because he pulled back a little and looked at me, stunned.

  With the taste of him on my lips, I wanted more. I craved more, like I needed oxygen to breathe.

  As he reclaimed my lips, I kissed him back with the same passion, doing something I hadn’t done in years. I let go. He made me let go, let go of everything and forget. Forget it all.

  All the bad. All the bad because he made me feel so good.

  He slipped his hand behind my head and pulled me closer, pulling me flush against his chest. He hadn’t done his buttons up yet, so I was able to run my fingers over his chest once more.

  He deepened the kiss and took advantage of my little gasp to sweep his hot, slick tongue into my mouth, teasing my tongue with his.

  Desire, raw and deep, pulled painfully at my insides, tugging on my groin and tightening my nipples.

  I wasn’t ready for him to stop kissing me, but just as we were really getting going, he stopped and looked me over.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. “I’d better go before we both end up naked on your sofa.”

  Naked on my sofa…

  I knew my brain should kick in and tell me that was a really bad idea and I should have better sense than to want that, but my brain wasn’t working right now. Either that or Ivan St. James had managed to paralyze my brain along with whatever mojo he’d worked on my body to bamboozle my defenses.

  All I could do was look at him as he stood up. I was too stunned by how I felt to speak. My head was buzzing, my heart hammering in the cavity of my chest.

  “Nine tomorrow, Jada.” He said that more like a promise than like he was confirming the time.

  “Nine.” I nodded.

  With one last sweep over my body with the intensity of his blue gaze, he left.

  I released the breath I’d been holding when I heard the front door close.

  That man had mystified me in more ways than one.

  I couldn’t wait to talk to Olivia about this whole occurrence. She was going to think I took a walk in The Twilight Zone.

  Had to be that because I must have. Now I was thinking even more about him. I hadn’t had a man plague my mind like this since Brian. That was saying a lot.

  I’d had so many relationships since, but this guy felt like he could be more than the trouble he’d caused me so far. So much more because that kiss of his did something more to me than turn me on and make me desire being naked with him on this sofa. The kiss ignited something deep in my heart to wake it up. I didn’t even realize it had been sleeping all these years.

  My heart shut down after Brian; I knew that. I just didn’t realize how closed off I’d been.

  Ivan’s person had been good to him.

  Who was she?

  And what did she do?

  It sounded like what I imagined love to be.

  Chapter 12

  Ivan

  Eleven years ago…
<
br />   I opened my eyes again. This time properly.

  The lights around me were so bright. Too bright. Bright white lights that made me wonder if I’d made it to heaven.

  The lights were as bright as the blinding lights that engulfed me just before the accident.

  That was all I knew. I knew I’d been in an accident.

  It was the last thought of my mind along with the pain that rippled through my legs as my car slammed into the pickup that crashed straight into me.

  My legs.

  My legs were all I could think of because they were my gift. My mom always told me that I took my first steps just so I could play football.

  My uncle Rory, Dad’s brother, was a football coach. She blamed him for my obsession. But she forgave him when it became clear to everyone that God literally crafted me for the sport.

  I was the Pitbull. People knew that once I got that ball on the field. That was it. I get the game, and my team would win. Always, right from kiddie league, then on to high school, college, and the NFL.

  Right now, though, I couldn’t feel my legs.

  Maybe people floated around in heaven.

  A face came into my view.

  She had to be an angel for her beauty.

  Large brown eyes, surrounded by thick black lashes, pouty red glossy lips. She looked like she could have come from Brazil or one of the South American countries.

  My eyes adjusted to the light, and her face came into focus properly.

  “Hey, hot stuff. I knew the part about the hot tub would make you wake up again.” She laughed. “You players always get excited about a hot tub. I don’t blame you.”

  I didn’t know what she was saying. She was wearing a blue jumper. A name badge was right over her left breast. It said Dr. Catherine Gutiérrez.

  That was her name. Somehow I remembered her saying that, but couldn’t remember when.

  I opened my mouth to talk, but I couldn’t. My throat was so dry and swollen.

  It felt like I hadn’t spoken in forever.

  “Easy, easy. Ivan, don’t try to speak. You can tell me how beautiful I am another time.”

  Sleepy as I was, I liked her. There was something in her playful manner that made me take to her instantly.

  And she was beautiful.

  I closed my eyes again, and my lids felt like lead was holding them down.

  When I opened them again, she had on a red jumper and her hair was up in a ponytail.

  “Ivan, please stop scaring us. These weekly wake-ups are not on,” she said, shaking her head.

  “W-ee-kly?” I said, and her smile brightened.

  “Oh my gosh, you’re talking. Try to stay awake. I’m gonna get the doctor.”

  “Thank you.” I closed my eyes again, and this time when I opened them, no one was in the room.

  It was just me. Me with the beeping sound of the monitors attached to me.

  I didn’t know what the hell was going on. Somehow, though, I had an inner strength in me that made me stay awake.

  I looked about me at the wires and tubes coming from my arms. Using my elbows, I eased myself up. My legs felt numb like they weren’t attached to me.

  I didn’t know why.

  I took the oxygen mask off my face and took in a deep breath.

  The door opened, and she came in.

  Dr. Catherine Gutiérrez.

  Other than when I went to see my parents, and Patterson, I couldn’t remember anyone looking that happy to see me.

  She rushed up to me and beamed with happiness.

  “Look at you. You’re awake and sitting up,” she bubbled.

  “What happened to me?” I asked.

  “You don’t remember anything?”

  I glanced down at the soft white cotton of the sheets and remembered.

  “Accident. The driver came straight at me.”

  “Drunk driver. You’re lucky you made it. He didn’t.” She shook her head.

  I bit down hard on my back teeth. I didn’t know how she could call me lucky. I wasn’t lucky. That bastard put me here.

  “I’m not lucky. I can’t feel my legs. I have a game to play. My team is counting on me.”

  Sadness filled her eyes. She placed her hand over mine and gave me a gentle squeeze.

  “Ivan, you’ve been in a coma for the last four months.”

  My heart… stilled. I was certain it stopped beating. How could that be true? Me in a coma for the last four months.

  “That can’t be right. I have a game tomorrow. I have to be there.”

  She covered my hand now with both of hers. “Ivan, I’m really sorry, but the football season is over. Please, don’t worry about anything besides getting better.” She kept her gaze trained on me. “I’m going to get the doctor.”

  “My legs… why can’t I feel them?”

  “Don’t worry about that now.” She smiled and left me.

  Minutes later, she came back with a male doctor and my parents.

  Mom rushed up to me in tears.

  Dad looked terrible, bad like he’d been run over with a truck because his skin was blotchy.

  A tear ran down his cheek as he looked at me.

  “Guys, I’m okay,” I told them like I always did whenever I got sick when I was younger.

  “Ivan, I’m Dr. Clarke. I’ve been the consultant in charge of your care. This is Dr. Gutiérrez. She will be your psychotherapists and also oversee your physio. How are you feeling?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that question.

  I’d just had a massive bomb dropped on me from being told I’d been in a coma for four months and the season I’d trained so hard for was over.

  I also got a very, very bad feeling that I was about to have a bigger bomb dropped on me. Something much worse. Something deep in the pit of my gut told me the obvious reason I couldn’t feel my legs was because something was wrong with them.

  That was all I wanted to know right now.

  “Why can’t I feel my legs?” I asked, staring straight at Dr. Clarke.

  “Look, son, this is the longest you’ve been awake. How about we talk about your legs tomorrow?” he answered.

  When I saw Dad put his arm around Mom as she started to shake, I knew for certain the news and any discussion about my legs was going to be bad.

  “No, now. I want to know now. Please. I can’t wait until tomorrow. I’m paralyzed, aren’t I?” I blurted.

  Dr. Clarke looked from my parents to me and gave me a slow nod.

  “Mr. St. James, this really is something to talk about tomorrow. The mind is a very delicate thing. You’ve been through a lot.”

  I didn’t want to hear that. “How bad is it? Will I really never walk again?” I couldn’t ask about playing or running.

  It was amazing how priorities shifted when measured in the grand scheme of things.

  He looked uneasy. “There’s a seventy-percent chance you won’t.”

  Oh my God. No.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  I couldn’t.

  I rested my head back on the pillow and looked away from everyone.

  My life… It was over. Everything I knew was over.

  “Mr. St. James, I’m just going to take your parents and discuss a few things. I’ll be back in a little while to check on you after the nurses take your vitals.” He was talking, but I wasn’t looking at him.

  I wasn’t looking at anyone.

  Mom came around to kiss me on my cheek, and Dad kissed the top of my head like he used to when I was little. I was twenty-five years old, and I would have given anything to be that boy again. At least that boy had a future playing football, living his dreams.

  I had nothing.

  I wished I’d waited until tomorrow. Worrying about what I was going to be told was better than knowing the truth.

  I heard the door close, but there was someone still here.

  Her.

  I rolled my head to the side and saw her looking at me.

  “You should
have waited until tomorrow, Ivan.” She nodded.

  “Why? What’s the difference?”

  “I would have told you. I was going to ask if I could. Sometimes it’s the way we’re told things that makes us form the perception we choose. Good or bad,” she explained.

  “Please, I really don’t believe in any positive thinking mumbo jumbo.” I really didn’t mean to be rude, and not to her. She seemed nice.

  To my surprise she laughed. “Wow, hot stuff, I just knew you were gonna be a firecracker.”

  I stared at her. She seemed to be a lot like me, because that was the sort of wisecrack I would have come out with. The real me was a hoot and a half, cocky and confident. I walked like I owned the world and had women falling at my feet.

  What the fuck would happen to me now?

  Who was I now?

  She came closer, and her smile brightened.

  “Had I told you the news, I would have said, ‘There’s a thirty-percent chance you’ll walk again, so we need to get to your therapy straight away and go in hard.’”

  Again, I stared. This time in complete disbelief. What the hell was she saying to me? And like that? Like I had any hope. There was no hope.

  “Look, lady—”

  “Catherine, I’d love it if you called me Catherine. It’ll be easier as we’ll be working together, and calling me lady sounds oafish. In Brazil, we’d consider it rude, especially talking to a professional.”

  “Catherine, I appreciate the lightheartedness, but let’s face it. I have a seventy-percent chance of not walking ever again. There’s nothing positive in that.”

  She smiled and took my hands again. “I shouldn’t be here. Ivan, I shouldn’t be here. Doctors gave me six months to live. That was five years ago. Look at me.” She gave me a sassy one-shoulder shrug as I looked at her with my mouth open.

  Shock filled me. “What?”

  “Yeah. I guess I’m on what you call borrowed time. But hey, I got to meet you, right? How about you have a little faith? Do you want to walk again?”

  “Yes, of course.” I nodded.

  “So, how about you never give up what you want most?”

  “You think that’s all it takes?”

  “I do, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave me a curt nod. “We’ll talk about how to get those legs of yours to work again.”