Page 10 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

The world shifts. For a second, all I can do is lie there, stunned, staring up at the white underside of the trailer. My ankle is on fire, throbbing in time with my racing heart. I try to straighten my leg and immediately gasp; the sound strangled in my throat. Tears prick at my eyes.

Blood smears the steel steps, and my blue jeans are torn at the shin, red soaking through the denim.

Bracing my hands against the ground, I attempt to push myself up, but the moment I put weight on my foot, excruciating pain shoots up my leg. I cry out and collapse back against the ground.

“Shit,” I whisper. “Shit, shit, shit.”

My phone. Where’s my phone?

I twist my head and spot it on the gravel about four feet away, face down. Shuffling toward it on my ass, I drag my injured leg, gritting my teeth. Every movement sends fresh waves of pain through my body.

I’m halfway there when the trailer door swings open above me.

“Oh, shit! Hannah, are you okay?” Mia rushes down in panic, nearly tripping over me, and crouches down to grab under my arms. “What happened? Did you fall?”

“Raccoon,” I manage to say. “I tripped up the steps.”

Jaina appears beside Mia, her eyes wide. “What the hell happened?”

“We need to call Dain.” Mia’s voice is calm but urgent.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch,” I say through a wince. “I just need to clean up and have some Tylenol. I still have two more interviews.”

Both stare at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Hannah, you need to see a doctor,” Jaina says slowly, like she’s talking to a child. “I’ll call Keith or Adrian from the practice in town—”

“No.” The word comes out harsher than I intend. I take a breath, trying to soften my tone. “Let’s just finish work today. I’ll go straight after the interviews if it doesn’t get better.”

I can’t leave. Not now. Not with two interviews left and the producer watching my every move. If I leave early on day one, I’m done. They’ll say I’m unprofessional. They’ll replace me with a real host.

“Hannah…” Mia starts.

“Please.” My voice cracks. “Just help me into the chair. I need to finish today.”

Karyn appears in the doorway, her face pale with uncertainty. “What do you need?” she asks quietly.

“Tylenol and water,” I say. “And can you…” I swallow hard against the wave of nausea. “Can you tell Dain I need fifteen minutes?”

Karyn nods and disappears.

Mia and Jaina each take one of my arms and hoist me up. I hop on my good leg, biting down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop me from crying out. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. They practically carry me up the stairs and into the trailer, lowering me into the makeup chair.

“Let me see,” Karyn says, kneeling down.

I extend my leg, and she carefully lifts the hem of my jeans. We all stare. My ankle has already swollen to nearly twice its normal size, an angry purple color blooming across the skin like a bruise.

“Jesus,” Mia breathes.

I look away, my stomach churning. “It’s fine. Just swollen.”

Nobody speaks.

Karyn returns with pills and a bottle of water. I swallow the painkillers all at once, barely tasting them.

“Thanks,” I rasp. “Now, can you guys fix me? I’m sure I look like hell.”

“What about your jeans?” Mia asks gently.