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A boy with dark brown curls that framed his cherub face. I struggled to remain upright as they crossed the room, and I leaned against the door for support.
My reaction was ridiculous, and I gave it my all to beat back the effect the man held over me. To lift my chin and act as if I’d left his shop and had never thought of him again.
Still, my gaze devoured him as he crossed the room. Again, he wore black jeans and a plain black tee, though this one was looser with a wide neck, showing off the swirls of color that curled up from his chest and climbed his throat. Heavy motorcycle boots ate up the floor as he took long, confident strides, though I still felt his approach as if he were moving in slow motion.
“Nolan Tayte?” I forced out when they got within two feet of me.
The little boy pulled the hand towel away from his mouth. His big, blue eyes were wide and eager as he sang, “Hey, that’s me, right here!”
Dried blood was caked on his bottom lip and left cheek, and my spirit clutched as I took in the sweetest face.
There was a part of me that wanted to reach out and take him into my arms, carry him into the restroom so I could clean him up, soothe him, and whisper that he was going to be okay.
I blinked the impulse away, and the smile that climbed to my face didn’t feel so faked. “Hi, Nolan.”
“Are you my doctor?”
“No, I’m Charleigh, the medical assistant who’s going to get you ready to see the doctor.”
I refused to let that sting.
I glanced at his father who was watching me as if he didn’t know how to process my presence, either. His big body vibrated with that severity that clouded my senses.
“Hey, Charleigh…” He issued it like a question, his voice that low scrape, and I wanted to stomp on the stupid flutter of glee that lit inside me that he remembered me.
“Hi.” I managed not to stammer it like a schoolgirl with a crush. But that might as well have been what I was with the way he made me feel. A clueless, silly schoolgirl who didn’t recognize when she was about to get maimed. “Come on back.”
Forcing myself to go professional, I held open the door so they could pass.
Maybe I really had been hiding out in my apartment for too long. An hour interlude with a stranger who’d given me a simple tattoo should not make an impact.
Raven was right.
I needed to get out more. Interact like a normal human being so I didn’t go around forming crazy attachments to people who didn’t mean anything to me.
I cleared my throat of the rioting of emotion and did my best to smile, to act the same as I would with any other patient as the door swept closed behind us. “You’re Nolan’s father?”
The man hesitated for a second before he grunted, “Yeah.”
I was an idiot for glancing at the chart, seeing if there was another parent listed.
Even more foolish was the relief I felt when I found that there wasn’t.
God, I was teetering some strange, hazardous line.
I turned to the little boy and tried to keep my voice from shaking. “I hear you had a little accident today.”
It only barely cracked.
I called that a win.
“I knocked mytoofclean out,” the little boy said, tripping over the words as he contorted his bottom lip so I could see that extra-large gap that had been left on his lower gums. I took note that his lip was also split where his tooth had likely made contact and was now purple and swollen.
But he seemed in good spirits, so I let my smile widen at the adorableness that was this child.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that.” I kept my voice light as I gestured for them to walk ahead of me. I held my breath as they passed, trying to avoid inhaling the aura of the man.
Leather and ink and wicked things.
