Page 27 of Doc's Decision

She sighs and turns to stare out at the dark tree line, worrying her lip between her teeth. “My mom was a junkie, in and out of rehab more times than I can count. Dad took off before I was even born. Then she shacked up with my stepdad, who was a mean drunk. Always throwing things, screaming, gambling away what little money we had. Not exactly a stable home life, you know?”

“Shit, Mandy. I’m so sorry.” I ache to reach for her, to pull her into my arms and hold her close.

To shield her from all that ugliness.

But I don’t want to spook her, so I keep still even though it kills me. “You deserved so much better than that.”

“Yeah, well. Can’t change the past.” She shrugs like it doesn’t matter, even though I can tell it does.

It matters a whole fucking lot. “What about you? An all-American upbringing with a picket fence?”

I snort out a laugh. “Hardly. Sperm donor was never around, and Ma . . . she was in a bad wreck when I was sixteen. Traumatic brain injury. Docs say she’s got anterograde amnesia, like Drew Barrymore in50 First Dates, yeah? She makes new memories for a bit, but then they just disappear, and she resets back to the day of the accident. Still thinks I’m some skinny kid.”

“God, Doc, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” Mandy’s hand finds mine on the railing, her fingers curling around and holding tight. An anchor in the dark. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”

“Was at first,” I admit, thumb rubbing over her knuckles. “But I graduated early and enlisted, and I made sure she was set up in a good facility with the benefits I got. She’s taken care of, even if I can’t fix her.”

Mandy squeezes my hand. “She’s lucky to have you. Kash too. You’re a good man.”

Nobody’s ever said those words to me before. I have to blink a few times to clear the sudden thickness from my throat. “Just doing what I gotta.”

God, she’s stunning on the inside and out.

A diamond in a sea of coal.

And I’m just the poor schmuck lucky enough to bask in her glow, even if I’ll never truly have her.

Not the way I’m starting to realize how badly I want her.

I’ll take what I can get.

Her friendship, her presence in my life, in Kash’s life.

It’s more than I deserve.

More than I ever thought I’d ever have.

I suck in a deep breath and tell myself I have to stop being such a possessive prick.

Mandy’s not a damn doll to stick on a shelf.

She’s a living, breathing person.

Who she shares her body with, on camera or off, is her choice.

It’s not mine.

Even if the mere thought of another man seeing her the way I have makes me want to put my fist through a wall.

The primal, caveman part of my brain roars in outrage at the idea.

But I don’t have that right.

I’m not hers, and she sure as shit ain’t mine . . . no matter how badly I’m starting to wish things were different.

A wry smile tugs at my mouth. “Mandy, would you have wanted me to kiss you somewhere else?”

She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

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