Page 90 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

Jameson: Sure, that’s it.

I hear movement from the bathroom toward her room.

Me: Gotta go.

Setting my phone down next to my laptop, I remove my glasses and go check on her.

“You okay?” I ask from her doorway, where the lamp is on low.

She’s already in bed, propped against the pillows, script open in her lap. Her hair is down, face clean, and she looks… I have to stop myself. I’ve already done more than I should have, so I don’t finish the thought.

“Yeah.” She holds up the script. “I’m just going to read my lines for tomorrow and then sleep.”

Seeing her there, comfortable, at the end of the day, hits me hard in the chest.

I clear my throat. “All right. I’ll finish my notes and head home.”

I hover at the door. She smiles up at me like she can see me struggling with what to say or do next. Heat crawls up the back of my neck, so I turn and force myself back to the sofa and my half-finished notes. I’m not leaving until she’s asleep. I just haven’t admitted that to myself until now.

Picking up my phone, I ignore the group chat and notice my family one has messages. I find a bunch of memes my mom’s been sharing, shaking my head and refocusing on my work. There are notes to write and emails to get through.

The next thing I know…

“Dr. Sterling. Are you coming with us?”

Channing? Fuck.

I jerk upright, disorientated. What time is it?

Chapter 30

Hannah

I wake up still thinking about last night.

His house. The clean lines and dark furniture, the big windows, the kitchen that actually looks used. The worn non-fiction paperback on the coffee table. A few framed photos on the shelf above the fireplace, one of a group on a fishing trip, another of his family. The walls are a cool white, the furniture dark and solid. No throw pillows, no decorative bowls of things that serve no purpose. Everything exactly where it should be.

It was so him.

And then what happened after… surprising and sexy. Which is why I’m lying here in the dark at whatever time it is, staring at the ceiling with a stupid smile on my face.

I reach for my phone on the nightstand. The screen blazes bright in my dark room. A text from Brooke is waiting. I squint at it, still groggy.

Brooke: What the hell is this?

I click the link she’s attached. There’s a picture of Zac carrying me out of the trailer. The headline:

What’s Going on Between Dr. Sterling and Hannah Morgan?

My stomach drops. The article speculates that Zac might be doing “more than necessary” while painting me as some entitled princess expecting him to perform duties “beyond what’s expected of him as a doctor.” At least they’re not claiming we’re together, but the implication that I’m demanding and high maintenance makes my blood boil. It’s frustrating, but there’s nothing I can do. They’ll believe whatever narrative sells.

I quickly text back, knowing it’s 4:30 in the morning, so she won’t respond right away.

Me: Remember, don’t believe everything you read in the news. But he’s been super lovely. Too kind. He definitely doesn’t make things easy, but I might have some gossip for you when you wake up.

Gossip is a lie for what I actually want to say, which is I have feelings for him, the ones that keep me up at night and make me reply that night at his house, the way he looked at me, the way neither of us looked away. Over and over until I lose track of how many times I’ve been through it. But I can’t put that in a text. I need to actually say it out loud to someone before I lose my mind, and Brooke is the only one I trust with this.

I set my phone down. I’ll call her later. Channing will be here if he’s not already. I gave him a key because, honestly, hauling all my stuff to the car every morning was getting ridiculous, and we have a good relationship, so why the hell not?