Page 37 of Faking It with the Off-Limits Doctor

He half smiles, grabs his cup, and then stops near the island where I’m working.

“There’s nothing more we can do,” he says, looking far more thoughtful than usual.

I glance at him when I reply. “Well, I think we did a lot. I think we did more than enough. And like you said—”

I wince as I feel a searing pain in my middle finger, and glancing down, I see blood spreading across the chopping board.

“Oh, lord, Dara,” Alex suddenly cries.

In two strides, he’s beside me, and with his large hand wrapped around my wrist, he lifts my hand to the same level as my head. “Keep it there,” he commands, guiding me over to the sink.

I laugh at his overly serious expression, and though there is blood pouring from my finger, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. “It’s just a nick, Alex. Honestly, get me a band-aid. It’ll be fine.”

He moves across to a cupboard and lifts the first aid kit down.

“You’ve cut the top of your finger off, Dara. Where I come from, that’s more than just a nick.”

I’m not sure he isn’t exaggerating, so I bring my finger down to take a look. Sure enough, the end of my middle finger is now missing. That’ll teach me to talk and chop at the same time.

“You might want to give those carrots a miss, unless you’re into cannibalism. Or, carrotibilism,” I giggle.

He cocks an eyebrow at me as he rummages through bandages. “Maybe you’ve lost too much blood already,” he says dryly.

“Maybe I’m just trying to stop you from panickin.”

“I’m not panicking. I never panic. I’m just looking after you.”

I’ll admit that hearing those words gives me a warm feeling inside. It’s been a long time since anyone was there to look after me. My last relationship was nearly five years ago, and the last six months of that was two people simply too scared to admit it was over.

“This is going to sting,” he says, holding my hand tightly with one hand, while coming at me with a vial of something in the other.

“Ah,” I hiss through gritted teeth. Well, he wasn’t wrong, though I think he underplayed the stinging part.

“Sorry,” he says gently.

“It’s fine,” I groan. “Just get it over with.”

I watch as he expertly bandages my finger, his brow furrowed in concentration. When it’s all over, I look ridiculous, but at least I’m not re-enacting a scene from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

“Well, no more piano for me,” I quip.

Alex frowns for the slightest second, and then realizing I’m joking, he rolls his eyes.

“I will admit, I don’t think I’ve ever been around someone who stays so calm under the circumstances.”

“I’m a chef. It’s what we do. Besides, it could have been worse. I could have been cutting the meat. Then the whole dinner would have been ruined.”

15

Alex

A week has passed since we went out and showed ourselves as a couple. And so far, things are going well, apart from the mishap of Dara losing the top of her finger while preparing my dinner. I had felt more than guilty, but she had joked about it so much I didn’t get chance to feel bad for long.

She really is something else, I’ll give her that.

I’ve even ventured out into Riverdale to buy groceries—Dara’s suggestion to sell our story even more. Besides, she said Mrs. Casey, who runs the store with her husband, would be delighted to see me. She wasn’t wrong. In fact, the lovely woman walked me around the entire store, helping me find everything I was looking for.

I think she has a little crush on me.

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