Текст книги "Beautifully Shattered"
Автор книги: Courtney Kristel
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Beautifully Shattered
Courtney Kristel
Copyright © 2015 by Courtney Kristel
Ebook formatting by Jesse Gordon
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
About the Author
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all of the readers that want to hide away, cry, or scream at the top of their lungs. It may not always be easy, but it does get better. Keep holding on. Life is beautiful, including the shattered pieces.
Acknowledgments
A special thanks to my very first reader, my sister Heather. Thank you for believing in me and pushing me to follow my dreams. Words can never describe how grateful I am for you being here for every step of the way, every word I typed, and every thought I had. Because of you, this story came to life. I love you.
Thank you Dad for helping me make my dream a reality. You have always helped me with reaching every goal of mine. You are the best dad a girl could ever ask for. I love you Daddy.
Monica, you are as much to thank for this story being finished as anyone else. Your love for the characters was the push I needed to finish. Thank you for all of your nagging and staying up until 4am reading the first draft. Now it’s your turn to see what I put Heather through. Love you big sis.
Twinsy, thank you for being you. I am so grateful that you would always listen to my ranting even though you had no idea what I was talking about. Thank you for stepping in when I needed you the most. You will forever be the first person to ever know my dream to write.
My wonderful editor, Stacy Juba, THANK YOU! Your insight has helped me tremendously. Without you, I would have ripped my hair out. You’ve made this whole process so much easier. Thank you for all of the wonderful feedback, emails, and comments about the plot twist.
The fantastic cover couldn’t have been done without the amazing designer, Danielle Hurps. Thank you for the numerous cover designs, and all of the other artwork. You’re incredibly talented.
Prologue
Connor nods to the left, indicating that Jax is striding our way. Stubbornly I stare straight ahead, refusing to face the man who has destroyed me. I wave my hand at my family, conveying that now is not the time for me to confront Jax.
“You’re here to celebrate my last meet of the year, not to force me to talk to him,” I mutter to Connor.
Connor doesn’t say anything as he walks the short distance to my family. Connor bends to whisper something in Hadley’s ear. Her thirteen-year-old self jumps up and down, giddy to do Connor’s bidding.
His footsteps become louder the closer he gets. I breathe deeply, enjoying my last breath of fresh air until he leaves. The Thai aroma almost brings a smile to my lips. I really wanted greased-filled pizza, the kind that is so delicious you know it’s blocking your major arteries, but because he’s here I wanted to make him suffer. So of course I chose the one food he hates. I even gave him a vindictive sneer when he searched the menu for something he would be able to stomach. Once he’s near, his scent will invade my senses like it always does; everything will disappear leaving only Jax. I can’t let that happen, not anymore. Because of what he did, I can never forgive him. I have to forget the love I still feel for him.
My brother says something to Dad, but I don’t catch it. I’m too focused on listening to the way Jax’s steps sound on the concrete. He’s almost near me. I go for indifference as my Mom studies my reaction. I fear she’s aware of why I’m suddenly anti-Jax, but she has yet to voice her suspicions. I used to stay up late at night wishing that Jax would change, crying into my mom’s lap while she ran her fingers through my hair, consoling me for something I can’t be honest about. My wishes never came true. I should have known that Jaxon Chandler would ruin me.
I slide on my sunglasses even though it’s cloudy. The rare Southern California storm has arrived. Hopefully it’s gone by tomorrow, or the barbecue my parents have planned for my seventeenth birthday won’t happen. Not that I’m in the mood to celebrate. Every spring, for the past eight years, I’ve looked forward to my birthday for one reason. Jax. He always sneaks in and gives my present to me in private. Our tradition is now broken, like us.
I check whether anyone is watching us. They’re not, their attention glued to my little sister showing off some ballet move. Without turning to see if he’s following me, I stalk behind the Thai restaurant. His footsteps thud against the pavement.
He starts in as soon as we’re deep enough in the alley that my parents won’t hear me shouting. “Ads—”
I whirl around, eyes blazing. “No! You lost the chance to call me that when you stepped onto the plane.” I stab my finger into his hard chest. “You lost the chance to ask ANY questions! You have no right to speak to me!”
His arms hover over me, as if he wants to touch me. He’s fighting the same battle I am. If he pulls me into his arms, I’ll melt into him. His pretty words will wash over me; everything will disappear. Jax isn’t the sun, he’s the darkness, preventing me from shining. I can’t let him in again.
Decision made, I step away. His arms fall to his sides. “Why are you here?” I demand.
“Please give me the chance to explain. You stopped taking my calls, you’ve locked your window. You leave when I come by.”
I laugh. “So you thought ambushing me earlier, at my swim meet and in front of my family, was the right choice? You thought if I laid eyes on your handsome face, all would be forgiven? I HATE YOU, JAXON! Nothing you can say will ever make me forgive you.”
He drops to his knees in front of me. His hands dig into my hips as he looks up at me. I wipe my angry tears away. I won’t cry because of him. Jaxon Chandler has been the reason for too many of my tears. No more.
“I’m here. Doesn’t that count?” he says against my stomach.
We’re standing in front of the dumpster. The stench should be overwhelming, but all I smell is Jax. I torture myself with the woodsy scent, hating that I’m enjoying his close proximity.
It takes a second too long for my legs to carry me away from his touch. “It’s too late. You should have stayed in New York.”
“Ads—”
I shake my head as I back up. “I never want to see you again. I’ll be fine without you.” I grab my iPod from my pocket.
“I want to—” His words die as I insert my earbuds and leave the alley.
Coldplay blast in my ears, blocking out Jax. I lean against the brick wall of the restaurant and watch my family in the parking lot. My heart stops when I feel him behind me. He makes no move to touch me. He leans over until his breath pours over my bare shoulder.
His nearness still has the same effect it always has on me. I shouldn’t have given him such power over me. He makes me feel helpless. I can’t be the lovesick teenager anymore. I have responsibilities now. I allow myself to breathe him in before pushing off the wall and wandering back to my family.
Each step takes me further from the man I love.
As much as I hate him, I can never regret us.
“There you are, Adalynn. Where have you been?” my mom asks as I reach the car.
My spine stiffens. I know we’re going to fight. That’s all we do now. I hate fighting with my parents, but I can’t tell them the truth. I promised myself if he got on the plane then we would be over. All he is now to me is Logan’s best friend, a guy I have to avoid at all cost. He has no right to be more.
I never meant to fall in love with my brother’s best friend, but twelve years ago I fell for his charming smile. As the years went by, little by little I allowed him into my heart. I thought he was my knight in shining armor. I was wrong. As I settle into the backseat of my dad’s Range Rover, I have only one thought.
Jaxon Chandler will be the death of me.
Chapter One
Six years later . . .
Every Tuesday is the same for me. I work at the bakery in the mornings, go to my therapy appointment in the late afternoon, and finally I have dinner with the guys. The only thing that changes is the location. I live a simple life, well, as simple as I can manage after causing my parents’ and sister’s death six years ago on my seventeenth birthday.
My body automatically tenses. I stare at the blank eggshell walls in my penthouse and shove those memories in the back of my mind before they can haunt me. I tell myself to relax, but no matter how many times I try to get comfortable on my suede couch, I can’t seem to unwind. Ed Sheeran plays in the background, but the solace I usually feel listening to the calming music is missing. My hands itch to do the one thing that will bring a peaceful calm over me. I visualize using the sharp blade I keep taped underneath my sink, feeling the cold of the steel as it nips my skin. I can practically see the blood dripping down my thigh. I slap those images away, too. I’m not that girl anymore.
As soon as I woke up today, I immediately knew something was off. I can’t put it into words; it’s something that I can feel all the way to my bones. I haven’t been able to shake off this sensation all day. I try concentrating on anything but today’s date. It’s almost as if my mind is in a war with my heart. My soul won’t let me forget and my mind attempts to push me past it, to move on. Something changed between the time I closed my eyes last night and when I opened them this morning.
I’ve been in and out of therapy ever since the accident. My brother, Logan, insists that I continue to see Olivia White since I have made “noticeable progress” with her over the other therapists that I have seen since the accident. If he has to go out of town for work he leaves either Connor or Jax, his two best friends since childhood, to babysit me. In other words I’m not to be left to my own devices.
Within these last six years, Logan has become less of a brother and more of a parent. He moved me from California to Manhattan, sent me to college for a business degree, and bought me a penthouse in walking distance from his place. I refused to move in with him after graduation so he made sure that he didn’t have to wait in New York traffic to visit me. He feels better knowing that I’m close, so I don’t fight him on it.
Before the accident I wouldn’t have stood for Logan treating me like I’m made out of porcelain. After? I allowed it because I didn’t care about anything. Now I’m starting to crave the independence I gave up to my brother without a fight.
He takes protectiveness to a whole new level. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had one of my doctors insert a GPS tracker in me. I can’t really blame him, though. I’m the reason that we have no family and he’s almost lost me twice. He won’t allow there to be a third time.
It’s my night to host this week’s dinner. The boys had to leave for an emergency at the office, but promised to bring dinner. I already laid out the white plates that Logan bought me when he purchased the penthouse. Everything in here is white, just the way I like it. The only color comes from a painting, mounted above my couch, that the interior designer snuck in. It’s a shadow of a girl holding a bright yellow umbrella while the storm rages on, falling from the dark, unforgiving night sky. I allow it to stay because I can’t care about pointless decorations when all my energy goes into not giving up.
I’m antsy, counting the minutes since the guys left. Once they return, they’ll distract me. They’ll buy Thai food to please me, even though Jax hates it, they’ll paint smiles on their faces, and not voice what’s on everyone’s mind. Today, May 21, six years ago, my life was consumed by darkness, stealing my every promise of a happy future.
I grab my phone to see if any of the guys have texted. Nope. I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour staring into space. Fantastic. I can’t wait here and do nothing. I become lost in my thoughts and that’s never good. I force myself off the couch and change into workout clothes. Hopefully a few miles on the treadmill will chase this unnerving feeling out of my gut. I send Logan a quick text while I press the L button in the elevator.
Me: Gonna hit the gym. Bringing my phone. Call when you guys are leaving the office. Love you.
I don’t bother to put away my phone. No matter what he is doing, Logan will always respond to me. Always. Best brother award goes to him.
Logan: No problem. You might get a full hour in. This is taking longer than I expected or I would have waited until tomorrow to handle it. Love you too baby girl.
Logan: Oh and don’t forget to do weights too not just cardio.
I roll my eyes. Of course my meathead brother would remind me to do weights. He is such a body builder.
Me: I understand your need to take over the world so take your time. Just give me a heads up so I can shower.
I tiptoe through the lobby, hating how my footsteps echo on the marble floor. I look down and avoid anyone I pass. I don’t have the energy to smile and nod. Not today. Opening the glass doors to the gym, I ignore the Olympic size pool I can see from the entrance. It’s impossible to miss with the glass walls on one side. The pillars have vines wrapped around them, giving it the appearance of a magical place. I’ve never stepped in there even though it beckons me. From here, I know I’ll secretly love the decor, though, because it reminds me of the Greek Gods. Of him.
I head straight to the treadmill to clear my mind. I still don’t understand the point of continuing this stupid, futile charade of seeing Olivia White every other Tuesday afternoon. I think the whole idea is crazy. Nothing is going to change. I don’t want it to change. I don’t want to move on. I can’t. I need to remember what I did, who we lost.
I deserve to suffer unbelievable pain because of my actions. I am barely able to live now and what Liv wants seems impossible. That little voice in the back of my head thinks differently, though. I can do it. I can learn how to live again. I can have more. I want—
Nope, I shove that thought in the furthest part of my mind along with all the useless ones.
After a quick warm-up on the treadmill, I increase the speed. I focus on the sound of my feet hitting the belt with each step. I control my breathing the way my brother hammered into me at a young age when I got serious about working out. I wanted to strengthen my muscles for swimming. I spent hours upon hours training daily, never obtaining enough sleep. A small trail of sweat drips off my forehead and lands on the belt. My surroundings start to disappear as I replay today’s therapy session in my head.
“Adalynn, what do you think?”
I glance up from my hands and see Liv staring at me. I can tell from her disturbed expression this isn’t the first time she’s attempted to jostle me out of my thoughts.
“What’s the question? Sorry, Liv, I either stopped paying attention the moment I walked in, or the moment you brought up my dead parents and dead sister.”
I gawk at Liv, mortified. I can’t believe I actually said that out loud. I swear under my breath. “Sorry, Liv, I’m just distracted today.”
“Addie, you and I both know that I am used to your . . .” She pauses and I decide to help her out.
“Unique sense of humor?” I joke as I collect my long brown hair into a messy bun.
I wish that I took the time to gather my waves into a nice updo like she has done with her honey hair. She always looks so regal, something that I aspire to be. Even in a simple pair of black jeans, I carry myself as if I don’t have a care in the world. I refuse to let anyone see me as the broken twenty-four year old that I am.
“Let’s go with that. I’m used to your unique sense of humor by now. You can’t offend me. I want you to speak your mind. If you need sarcasm to do that, then by all means, just don’t shut me out, especially today of all days.”
Liv is my favorite therapist out of all of them. She always talks to me like I’m a human being, not just someone she has to focus on for an hour to get paid. I respect her as a person, but I still hate that she’s trying to encourage me to talk about them today. Although I was expecting it; after all it is the anniversary of their deaths. May 21, my birthday.
“Okay, I’m paying attention now. What was the question?”
I know the second the words leave my mouth I’m going to regret it. I should have just continued to tune her out until our session ended. My leg bounces up and down, a nervous habit of mine, when I notice the look she’s giving me. It’s the one that tells me I’m not going to take it well, but she’s going to say it anyways.
“I know discussing your family is extremely difficult, especially today. You can talk about them here, to me.” She pauses. “You think you don’t want to be here.” I manage to give a light nod. She is right after all. I don’t want to be here.
My gaze wanders to the panoramic window behind her like it usually does whenever she exposes my past. I can never seem to hold her gaze. Her thoughtful eyes are more knowing then I would like. I watch the outside world as she studies me. I know she’s waiting until she has my undivided attention before she speaks. I sigh loudly before turning my unwilling violet eyes back to her hazel ones.
“You’re wrong. You want to be here as much as your brother wants you here. There’s a point to this. I want to help you. We can sit here silently the entire time or we can talk. It’s up to you, Adalynn.”
I know I shouldn’t ask, but the words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. “How are you so sure I want to be here, Liv?”
“You still come, don’t you? You can walk out at any second, but you don’t. You continue to show up for every appointment. Even though you fight with yourself, you still stay until the session is over. You don’t stay because of your brother. You stay because deep down you want to overcome your past, and that scares you.”
Olivia sees the wheels turning in my head. She waits for me to patiently digest what she’s saying. I study my hands again. There’s no point in arguing with her. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. It is scary. I don’t think I can move forward, I don’t think I deserve it. What if I fail and let everyone down again?
“Some people feel anger towards their family members because they’re furious that they left. It’s okay to be angry with them, Addie. Whatever you feel is okay. You need to let it out or it will consume you. If you don’t feel like you can talk to me, then talk to anyone you feel comfortable with. Little by little, you need to open up or you will never be able to move forward with your life.”
I bite my lip so hard it bleeds. I focus on that pain then the emptiness inside of me. The little bite isn’t enough so I dig my nails into my palms. Noticing the blood, I slowly relax my hand. I interlace my fingers together so that Liv doesn’t see. I stare at the tiny trail of blood that barely shows. It doesn’t take away the emptiness. I need more.
“I am angry. They died and I didn’t. I’m angry that my world stopped that night and nobody noticed. All night I thought someone would see us, that someone would help us, but nobody stopped. Everyone kept driving. So, yes, I am angry, Liv. My world sank into the darkness and everyone else went on with their lives while the most important people in my life were dying beside me. I was helpless, unable to do anything but . . .”
Words leave me. I can’t finish that thought. It’s too much. Too painful.
The session drags on. Liv continues to demonstrate patience. Towards the end of it, Liv straightens her shoulders as if preparing for battle.
“I need you to start living your life. Go out. Meet new people, even take a vacation. Just live without thinking about the past and how you shouldn’t be having fun because they’re gone, as you put it earlier. The past is just that, the past. You can’t change it; no matter how much you wish you could.”
My thoughts are anywhere but in this gym while I run on the treadmill. I play everything that Liv said on a continuous wheel in my head. It still seems surreal that she thinks I can go a month without seeing her, that I am ready to progress.
I have my doubts. My mind is going in circles. Suddenly I realize that I am sprinting and coming up on my ninth mile. I try to focus on the panel, but my vision has blurred. While chugging my water, I press the down button to slow my pace. As soon as I set my water down in the cup holder and reach for my towel, I’m seeing spots. The world tilts. Blindly I grope for the string to pull the emergency stop. Everything goes black before I hit the still moving track.
When I come to, I’m laying on the floor next to an unbelievably attractive man who’s leaning over to get a clear view of my face. His lips are moving, but all I hear is a loud ringing noise. My head hurts. I try to process what other body parts hurt, but all I can focus on is that it seems like someone took a sledgehammer to my head. I attempt to move and pain shoots up my ankle.
I breathe through the pain. Strong hands squeeze my shoulders. The hot guy is still talking. I can’t understand what he’s saying, or why he’s bending over me. He looks so edible, I end up staring into his dark blue eyes. They remind me of the ocean and a peaceful calm takes over me, but it’s short-lived when the pain comes back with a vengeance. Once the pain subsides to a more manageable level, I can focus on his words.
“Can you hear me? What’s your name? Do you know where you are?” Concern is evident in his voice.
He’s speaking slowly for my benefit. I struggle to sit up, but he presses his strong hands on my shoulders. Mr. Edible smirks at me.
“No you don’t, sweetie. Stay still until I know you’re okay. Can you tell me your name? Do you know where you are?”
The sudden desert that has taken residence in my throat makes speaking impossible. Mr. Edible lifts my head and tilts a cold water bottle to my dry lips. When he starts to pull it away, I grab it and gulp half of the water down.
“You should take sips right now.”
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah, why’s that?”
“If you have a concussion, you could throw up,” he says.
Today is just not my day. Of course I would be the one to hurt myself on a treadmill and attract a cocky Good Samaritan.
“Adalynn,” I say in a calm voice, answering his question from earlier.
He raises an eyebrow expectantly. Right . . . he asked two questions. He couldn’t just walk away and leave me here. I find it hard to believe that he would be able to turn his back on someone needing help. There’s something about him that screams Mr. Good-Guy.
The light bulb goes off.
“At the gym.” Who has the smug smile now, Mr. Edible?
Gazing into his eyes, I’m aware I’m not fooling him with my casual act. I also know from previous experiences that I need to stay calm so I can talk him down from doing something rash like calling 911. I need to extinguish this situation so I can make it back to my apartment before the guys return. I’ll pretend like everything is fine and go to the doctor tomorrow. Ha, who am I kidding! I’m not going to the doctor tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time I voluntarily went for a check up.
“How are you feeling?” he ask as he interrupts my thinking process. “You were out for a couple of minutes. Your forehead’s still bleeding, not as bad though.” Pausing, he moves so he can examine my leg. As he touches my ankle, I wince. “You may have a sprain. You’ll need an X-ray to be sure.”
Ah, it’s my ankle, not my entire leg, that’s a little more comforting. That will be easier to hide from the guys. I need a mirror to know how bad my face looks. From the throbbing pain on my forehead, my guess would be anywhere from horrible or death. My guess is on the latter.
“Fuuuccckkkk!” I draw that one syllable into about twenty, give or take, when he starts twisting my ankle.
“I’m sorry,” he says once I’m done screaming. “I’m just checking for breaks. Do you have a boyfriend that I can call before we head to the hospital?”
That one word causes me to go into full blown panic. I sit up way too quickly, making him drop my ankle on the floor. I’m surprised my earsplitting scream doesn’t break the glass doors. Once the pain subsides, I try to stand only to fail. Graciously, he helps me to my feet and leads me to a nearby bench.
“I really don’t need to go to the hospital,” I tell him when he pulls his cell phone out of his basketball shorts. I wave him off, hoping to convey that this isn’t as bad as it seems. “Honestly this is no big deal, just a scratch.” I shrug, eyes glued to the silver device that will seal my fate.
“Adalynn—”
I hold up my hand, silencing him. “No, really, I’m fine. I just need to go back up to my place. I’m a little lightheaded, but we don’t need to make an unnecessary scene. You don’t need to call anyone. Once the bleeding—”
He cuts me off with a glare that clearly says “don’t mess with him.” The Good Samaritan that I’m somehow stuck with isn’t going to give up.
“Listen, Adalynn, you need stitches. This is too deep for just a Band-Aid.” He stares at my forehead. “You also might’ve suffered a concussion, not to mention you need to have your ankle checked out and be possibly fitted for crutches.
I give him my most pleading look. “Please, just help me to my apartment. I have crutches somewhere in one of my closets from the last time I decided to do a gravity check. The bleeding has stopped. I’ll go to the hospital if I need to. I know all the signs of a concussion. This isn’t my first accident.” And it won’t be my last, I’m sure. Clumsiness doesn’t even begin to describe my unique quality of walking skills.
He shakes his head. “Give me your boyfriend’s number so he can meet you at the hospital.”
Okay, now, I’m mad. Who does he think he is? Good Samaritan or not, he doesn’t get to boss me around. Since standing isn’t an option, I sit up straight, attempting to appear taller. “Look, buddy, I already told you I’m not going to the hospital. So either help me back to my apartment or move out of my way.”
Rubbing his face, he says in a forced calm voice, “Fine Adalynn, you win. But I need to grab my emergency bag from my apartment. You will call me if there are any signs you need to go to the hospital. Take it or leave it.”
Without waiting for a response, he stands and gathers towels to support my ankle. Once he’s satisfied that I’m not going anywhere, he glances down at me with a question in his eyes.
“Fine. Hurry up.”
“I’ll be right back. I don’t need to ask you to stay put because with that ankle you’re not going anywhere.” He gives me one last smirk before walking away. At the door he turns and asks, “And what about your boyfriend, do you need to borrow my phone to call him?” He holds up the phone in question.
“Nope, no boyfriend so nobody to call.”
He shoots me a knowing grin before leaving. Why didn’t I ask for his name? I’m about to have a random, hot, controlling guy escort me to my apartment, and I didn’t even ask for his name. Smart. What was that nonsense about him retrieving his bag? Deciding I don’t really care, I rest my eyes.
They spring open when something cold presses on my ankle. It’s hard to focus at first, but when my I adjust to the bright lights in the gym I see my sexy stranger wielding a bag of ice.
I ask the most basic question that I should have asked from the beginning. “Does my knight in shining armor come with a name? Or should I just pick one from my favorite fairy tales? I have to warn you, though, my fairy tales are different from Disney.”
“Oh?”
“Instead of reading to me, my Dad made up his own fairy tales.”
He chuckles. “Do I remind you of the knights in shining armor?”
I shrug. “There weren’t really any knights in shining armor. The princess always saved the day. She didn’t need anyone to rescue her.”
I’m surprised that I just told that information to a stranger. I never open up. Never. There’s something about him that makes me want to bare my soul. Which means I need to shut up. This can only be heading somewhere dangerous.
He rummages into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves and a white bottle with a spray cap before answering. “Kohen Daniels. Now hold still. This may hurt a little.”
Before waiting for me to catch on, he sprays the liquid on a cotton ball and then gently cleans my forehead. I scream a string of profanity that would make any sailor proud.
“Well, lucky for you I was wrong,” Kohen says after cleaning the wound.
“Oh?” I ask through my teeth. The sting is still fresh in my mind.
“You won’t need stitches. I have butterfly stitches that will keep this closed and it’ll heal nicely.”
He finishes cleaning the wound and applies the final bandage. Lightly he brushes his fingertips over my cheek and down my jaw. As he stares into my eyes, I feel a pull that I have only felt with one other person. Right when I think he is going to lean in, he quickly averts his attention to my ankle.
“I need to wrap your ankle and then I can help you back to your apartment.”
Not trusting my voice, I nod. What just happened? I must have hit my head a lot harder than I thought.
He wraps my ankle with practiced ease. Without asking, I know immediately that he’s a great doctor. Women must fall at his feet with those dark blue eyes and sandy blond hair that can’t seem to stay in place. I know without a doubt that he has an incredible body to match his handsome face. There’s no hiding it, even with a black sweatshirt on. When he’s satisfied with his work, he stands and holds out his hand for me. Smiling, I take it and wobble to his side.
“Thanks.”
