Page 39 of Doctor Charmer

“That smells amazing. I can’t believe you make hot chocolate from scratch. You are a man full of surprises.” I take the cup and saucer and curl on the couch to face him as he slides in next to me. I press my wool sock-covered feet to the cushion and steal a quick sip.

“This is heaven.” I bat my lashes up at him and am rewarded with a sexy smirk. “All of it.” I jut my chin over the couch at the incredible view that has mesmerized me for the last five minutes. Reggie’s condo is on the ninth floor of an impressive building on the outskirts of town. His living room overlooks a forest with hiking and bike trails. At this hour, the lights from the building light up the falling snow like stars in the dark night sky. The snow-covered forest is a winter wonderland.

I take another sip, and when I look up, Reggie’s intense stare shifts the temperature in the room from hot to intense. His hand reaches toward me, the tip of his finger brushing a tendril of my hair from my face. His touch is brief, tender, and I tilt my neck to give him easy access. He cups my face, and I close my eyes.

“I’m glad you asked me here.” I say the words I’ve been feeling since I walked in. After the kiss in front of the hospital, we stopped at my hotel for me to grab an overnight bag. Reggie refused to run up to the room with me, afraid if he got me in a room with a bed, we’d never leave. I didn’t test him on it.

“I’m glad you’re comfortable.” His words catch me by surprise. I work hard to project confidence and comfort. Most days, it’s easy because people rarely bother to look much past the facade.

“It’s because of you.” He doesn’t dismiss my words. Instead, he gives me a brief nod, taking the cup from my hand and placing it on the coffee table in front of us. Then, his hand is back on my face, his body leaning toward me, and before I can take a breath, his lips are on mine.

A soft kiss that is filled with a gentle tenderness that forces me to slow down. We’re not hormone-driven teenagers fumbling on a basement couch, half listening for the sound of parental units above us. We are both experienced adults with histories and reputations.

We take our time. We appreciate the moment. His heated breath warms my neck as he speaks. “I’ve wanted to kiss you from the second you were no longer my patient that first night.”

I pull back just enough to meet his gaze, which is clouded with heat. “I know.” I give him a quick ghost kiss. “Another victim of Coach Flirt-a-lot.”

Fire ignites in his eyes, and he slams his lips into mine. Hand in my hair, this kiss is on the opposite spectrum from tender. It’s hungry. It’s ravenous. It’s anI’ve dreamed about this for toolong and need it nowkiss. I match his intensity to let him know he’s not the only one feeling this way.

I fall back onto the couch, and our magnetized lips pull him forward. He peppers kisses down my collarbone, and I arch my back. His hand moves from the back of my head to my sides, not stopping until they land on my hips. That’s when I freeze. My body stiffens, and he notices immediately.

“I’m sorry.” His bashful words are an apology he doesn’t need to deliver. “I didn’t want to be in your tiny hotel room for this very reason. And yet… we’re here…” He sits upright on the couch, putting distance between us, his hands adjusting his bunched-up T-shirt.

I push up, straightening the blouse I changed into when I stopped back at the hotel. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” I slip my hand into his. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want.” These words aren’t enough to explain my reaction.

He avoids my gaze, instead focusing his attention on our tangled fingers. I gulp, not believing I’m about to say what I’m about to say. “I haven’t been with a man in over three years.”

His gaze snaps to me, a scrutinizing glare that looks as if he’s a second away from calling BS on me.

“I know what you’re thinking.” My pulse races as I wait for his judgment.

“Trust me, you don’t.” His tone is soft and compassionate.

“You think I’m all talk. All tease.”

He raises his hand, palm facing me as if he’s in elementary school asking his teacher to speak. “Two years here.”

No freaking way. “Bullshit.” I don’t share his compassion. “Dr. Charmer?” I call him on it.

“Coach Flirt-a-lot.” He tosses my nickname back at me. Eyes locked, I brace. For what, I have no idea. Are we about to curse at each other, or…

His lips burst open with laughter, and I immediately follow suit. Water blurs my vision as I rest my elbows on my knees and let wave after wave of laughter take me away.

“What a pair we are,” I say, wiping tears from my cheek. I sniff and lean back on the couch. “Whew!” I exhale, not believing how good it feels to come clean.

Reggie’s shoulders press into the cushion next to me, his arm resting on the back of the couch. He strokes a finger across my shoulder. Sparks race through me as I drop my head and lower one of my last remaining shields.

“I’ve made mistakes in the past by moving too fast.” My voice goes flat as a whirlwind of memories swirls in my head. “After my injury, I was lost for a bit. Volleyball had always been my sanctuary. My safe space. My world. There, I was always on top. People looked up to me, cheered for me. Went out of their way to be close with me. Saving seats for me in the cafeteria, scoring extra tickets to concerts for my favorite artists when they performed in town.”

I pull my knees to my chest and squeeze. “It all seemed to stop after the injury. Suddenly, I was just another student on campus, no longer the campus superstar being recruited for the Olympic team. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have volleyball to fall back on. To pick me up.”

Reggie strokes my lower back, not saying a word. Listening. Learning my history the way I did the other night in the back of his SUV.

“I used what I thought was the only other thing I had going for me. My looks.” I bite my lower lip, debating how much of my broken past I will share. “Guys are easy. A flirty smile, a swing of the hip, a touch on their arm.” I close my eyes, not wanting to see Reggie’s face when I say the next part.

“I thought I’d get back on my pedestal by being pulled up next to men who were already high up on their own and wouldmake room for me. The popular boys on campus.” I twist away from Reggie, pressing my cheek hard against my knee, my arms wrapped tight, eyes still slammed shut.

“Apparently, guys aren’t the only ones who carry the label ‘easy.’ They got what they wanted from me and moved on.” I pause, expecting the wave of regret to overtake me. It doesn’t. Instead, a sense of relief washes over me with my declaration.

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