Page 24 of Faking It with the Off-Limits Doctor

“Oh good lord,” he cries, his head jerking back and forth, clearly looking for something.

I’m now bent double, trying to catch my breath, and a second later, I feel him hand me a paper towel.

Placing what I assume he thinks is a comforting hand on the small of my back, he says, “Breathe, Dara. Just relax and breathe.”

Easy for him to say. He didn’t just choose caffeine over oxygen.

My chest is tightening, I’m struggling to catch my breath, and I’m sure from the outside, this all looks hilarious.

The coughing eventually stops, and it takes another minute before I stop seeing flashing stars in my eyes. Eventually, I stand upright again, and Alex, who has not left my side, straightens with me.

I wipe my eyes with the paper towel, rubbing the escaping tears that threaten to drip down my cheeks.

“Take a few deep breaths,” he says soothingly.

Okay, Captain Obvious.

It makes me wonder if this is the tone he uses with his patients. It’s certainly the softest I’ve heard him speak, even if he does sound a little patronizing.

After a few more breaths, and telling him I’m fine, he moves a step or two away.

“Let me look at you.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I say, swiping a dismissive hand.

Walking around him, I grab a glass from the cupboard, half filling it with water. After a couple of gulps, I feel right as rain.

Not!

When I turn around again, his face is a picture of contrition and worry.

“I’m so sorry, Dara. I’m such an idiot. I should have put it a little more delicately. Are you all right?”

“You mean apart from coughing up a lung and nearly losing an eyeball in the process?”

He gives me a half smile, but the worry is still there.

He nods to a chair. “You should sit down.”

“You should have started with that,” I counter.

He laughs then. “Probably. But you should sit down anyway.”

“Honestly, I’m fine.”

There are a few moments of silence, and I’m pretty sure he feels as awkward as I do. It goes on until I can’t stand it any longer.

“So, a fake fiancée?” I say, my eyebrows high on my forehead.

“I handled that really poorly. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that once or twice already. Let’s just move on, shall we?”

His constant remorse is getting on my nerves, and besides, now I’ve cheated death, I’m curious.

“Why do you need a fake fiancée?” I press.

“It’s a long story.”

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