Page 24 of Doctor Neighbor

Shaking my head, I untie and retie my scrubs. My fingers fumble with the drawstring, still clumsy from the rush of adrenaline and desire. I replay the last hour in my mind, trying to pinpoint the moment something changed.

Was it when our eyes met? When our bodies collided? Or has this been building since the moment I saw her at the theme park, covered in blood and looking like she had seen a ghost?

One thing's for sure—meeting my new neighbor just got a lot more interesting—and complicated.

8:37 pm

I knock on Cole's door, my heart thundering in my chest like I'm about to step into the OR for a high-stakes surgery. I've changed into joggers and a fitted t-shirt, aiming for casual but not sloppy. My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them on my pants before she opens the door.

The soft glow of lamps behind her creates a halo effect, and for a moment, I'm struck dumb. Cole stands there, a glass of red wine in hand, her long brown hair over one shoulder.

She is looking as unsure as I feel. Her eyes meet mine, and there's a hint of something else—nervousness? Anticipation? It's hard to tell.

"Hey," I manage, my voice coming out rougher than I intended.

"Hi," she replies, her tone equally uncertain. We stand there for a beat, the air between us thick with unspoken words and lingering questions.

Cole clears her throat. "Come in," she says, stepping aside to let me pass.

I cross the threshold, hyper-aware of her presence as I move past her. Her perfume hits me, and suddenly, I'm transported back to this afternoon, her lips on mine, hands exploring...

Lord. I shake my head, trying to clear it. Focus, Buster.

"I brought wine," I say, holding up the bottle I'd grabbed from my place. "Figured I couldn’t come by a second time empty-handed.” I’m an idiot. Why did I have to offer that second part? Just give her the damned wine.

Cole nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Good call. Let's head out to the balcony."

I follow her through the living room, noticing more this time than earlier, the little touches that make this space uniquely hers—a colorful throw blanket draped over the couch, a stack of magazines on the coffee table, a child's drawing pinned to the fridge.

As we step onto the balcony, the cool night air hits my skin, and I take a deep breath. The city stretches before us, a tapestry of twinkling lights and distant sounds.

“Wow, your view is significantly better than mine. I mostly have a parking lot with a sad little tree and some green space to the side. This is super cool. I can see why you would want to sit out here.”

Cole leans against the railing, silhouetted against the Birmingham skyline. The soft glow from the city lights below illuminates her features, gently radiating her skin.

Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and I fight the urge to run my fingers through it. She's changed into a simple tank top and yoga pants, but somehow, she looks more stunning than ever. The casual outfit accentuates her natural beauty, highlighting the graceful curve of her neck and the toned lines of her arms.

“Yeah, this is a big reason I chose this place—that and the location. I can walk to the cafe from here. And now, Madeline is in a preschool a couple of blocks over. You can’t beat this little downtown haven.”

Cole turns to face me, and I'm struck by the intensity in her clear blue eyes. They seem to sparkle in the dim light. Her lips, still slightly swollen from our earlier encounter, curve into a small smile that sends my heart racing.

I notice a small scar above her left eyebrow, barely visible in the soft light. It's a tiny imperfection that only adds to her allure, making her seem more real, more human. I’m not sure if her cheeks are flushed from the wine or our proximity.

As she moves to pour the wine I brought, I can't help but admire her fluid grace. There's a quiet strength in the way she carries herself, a confidence that's both intimidating and incredibly attractive.

The moonlight catches the delicate chain around her neck, drawing my attention to the hollow of her throat. I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure as memories of our earlier encounter flood my mind.

EIGHT

Cole

8:52 pm

I take in Buster, my fingers wrapped around the stem of my wine glass. The cool night air caresses my skin, a welcome relief from the warmth that's been building inside me since he knocked on my door earlier today.

He leans against the railing, his fitted t-shirt hugging his broad shoulders and muscular arms. My eyes trace the lines of his body, remembering how those muscles felt under my hands just hours ago. The joggers he's wearing do little to hide his athletic build, and I find myself fighting the urge to reach out and touch him again.

"So," I start, trying to keep my voice steady. "About earlier..."

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