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I hesitate.
“Don’t say no, Layla. That’s the easy response. Challenge me. Challenge yourself. See where it can lead you. I promise you won’t bottom out. Not with me.”
My heart gallops in my chest at the way he says that with such fucking sincerity. He twists me up and spins me around, and I can’t help but love every second of the ride with him. It’s when the ride ends and I’m dizzy and ready to hurl that worries me.
I scan his face, knowing I should say no. A date is a slippery slope. But that not-so-well-hidden vulnerability is a powerful weapon I’m helpless against. The man makes it so damn impossible not to like him.
“Is Katy really at a sleepover?”
“Yep. When the mom called to ask, Katy screamed, ‘YES!’ at the top of her lungs and started jumping up and down so high I thought she might burst through the ceiling. The mom knows about Katy’s night terrors, and I’ve told both the mom and Katy to call me at any hour for anything. Incidentally, the mom also invited me for a sleepover tonight, but since I’m a taken man, I declined.”
“She what?!” I shriek, my spine snapping straight, my eyes narrowing, and my hands balling up into tiny fists. I want to kick her ass. “What kind of woman does that?”
He unrolls my fingers, relacing our hands together. His other hand drags along my cheek, his smile softening. “You have no idea how much I love that you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” I snap, shoving him away because his touch makes me shudder and right now, I don’t want to shudder. I want to be angry. “I’m just… indignant. And incredulous.”
His shoulder hitches up. “It’s okay to be jealous. I want to kill every man who looks at you. Especially Patrick.” His jaw clenches and Patrick’s name comes out as a slur.
“Well, I’m not jealous,” I press emphatically, wanting to drive that home because I’m not. Even though the notion of him being jealous makes me inadvertently smile and squirm. I redirect him away from that train of thought. “Are you sure you can trust a woman like that to watch Katy for the night?”
He crowds me some more, that fierceness slipping back into flirtation. “I think Katy’s going to be just fine. It’ll be good for her even. So… sushi? You still haven’t given me an answer.” He cocks his head, making some of his slightly too-long-on-top hair flop onto his forehead.
This man is my fucking kryptonite.
I shake my head, clearing all that away. “I can’t have sushi with you.”
“Why not?” he persists.
Why not?I have reasons why not, but with him this close and smelling this good—and giving me that devil-may-care look—I’m having trouble remembering my reasons.
Oh!“I’m supposed to go to Stella’s restaurant for dinner.”
“Which you can do another night. Next?”
“I have a massive case study to complete because my professor is a dick and assigned it today and made it due tomorrow.”
“He doesn’t sound like a dick. He sounds like an amazing professor, and you should consider yourself fortunate that you’re his student and able to benefit from his expert tutelage. But I heard this case study is hard, and lucky for you, I’m a doctor. You can bounce your thoughts off me while we eat. I can’t do more than that for you because that would be cheating and wrong. To make up for that, I bet this amazing professor would allow you to borrow a particular sweatshirt he may have worn earlier today.”
I grumble.
“Now that that’s all settled, let’s go.”
He lands a smack on my lips and then twists our hands and takes off at a run again, weaving us this way and that. I can’t help but laugh, even though I’m trying to fight it. He’s all smiles and boyishness, and he came here for me because he wants to have dinner with me. I’ve been fighting him, and I need to keep that up, but he makes it impossible to do that.
Especially when he’s like this.
So… irresistible.
An hour and a half later, we’re sitting in his office after having eaten take-out sushi—my demand—while he reads a book on freaking parenting after loss, and I work on this case study that is no joke.
“When you created this, did you orgasm over the prospect of torturing your students?” I ask, frustration bleeding from my voice as I stare at my notes that don’t add up to a whole lot. Something is missing.
“Orgasm? No. I only do that at night when my beautiful fiancée is asleep in our bed.”
My head flies in his direction, my eyes wide. He doesn’t so much as spare me a glance.
“This is a real case, Layla,” he continues without missing a beat. “A real case I had as a resident. A real case that will be similar to the ones you’ll face and have to solve as a doctor. I can give you easy, but that won’t help you grow or learn as a provider. Second-years start their clerkships in less than two months. I’m giving you a leg up as I intend to have you all do these once a week.”
