Page 80 of The Doctor's Truth

“Say…those words?”

A smile twitches the corner of my mouth. “What? I love you?”

“Yes,” she says, voice cagey, as though the very words are infectious. “That.”

I shrug. “They’re just words.”

“So you don’t mean them?”

I close my computer. “You know me, Kenzi. I don’t have a heart.” I scan her body. “Are you wearing that?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “What’s wrong with it?”

I shrug.

She breaks her composure and laughs. “I’m joking. I’ve got a dress.”

“T minus 30,” I tell her, and she salutes me before standing.

As we get closer to time, however, with the two of them fluttering around me, I start to feel the jitters take hold.

I’m a grown man. An esteemed doctor. I make my own money, and I pay my own taxes, and I do my own laundry.

I shouldn’t be nervous. But I am.

I go into the kitchen and decide to distract myself by putting away the flurry that Jason left—his dirty dish still on the counter. I rinse it and drop it in the sink when I spy a plate of brownies on top of the microwave. Jason is an okay cook, but he has a knack for baking. I stress eat, stealing a brownie and eating it off a napkin to avoid crumbs.

It’s not like I haven’t met Jason’s parents before. Hell, I work for Mr. King. I’ve sat at his desk. I’ve walked through diagnoses with him. I’ve attended galas at the hospital. So why does the thought of eating food across from him for an hour, maybe two, make me sweat?

Maybe because things have changed now. I’ve seen his son’s O face. I’ve sucked his son’s cock. I’ve made him cum with my name on his lips.

Worse than that, I’ve developed, I don’t know. Nagging sort of feelings for the guy.

So I pick crumbs and ruin my appetite on sugary sweets.

Jason finally reemerges from the bathroom and steps into the kitchen. “Hey, you’re loosening up,” he says.

He looks good, but that’s nothing new—looking good has always been effortless for him. Dark hair jostled, he’s wearing a light button-up and creaseless gray slacks. The top couple of buttons are undone, teasing his curly chest hair.

“Kenzi’s still changing.”

“Cool,” Jason says. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans back against this counter.

Even dressed up, I can make out the bare outline of him. Even his relaxed slacks can’t hide that mammoth.

My fingers twitch with the want to undo his belt, and my blood starts to rush south. Why am I so horny right now? I force myself to ignore the dryness of my lips and steer my thoughts.

He nods to the plate of brownies. “How many of those have you had?”

I scowl. “Are you counting my calories right now?”

“No. But uh…you should know I made those for Maria.”

“I only had one. She won’t notice.”

“No, I mean like…they’re special. You know. Like…really special.”

My throat feels thick and slimy. What. The. Fuck.

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