Page 2 of Deeply Examined

Praying she won’t remember the name, I introduce myself.

Jessica

“I’m Dr. West,” he intones, his voice deep and rich, like whiskey poured over ice.

“What can I do for you today, Ms. Jones?” He’s looking at my chart now, long tapered fingers flip slowly through the pages.

“Oh, er.” I command my brain to stop its wild scrambling, but I’m so overwhelmed by the man that it takes a long minute to answer. “My physical,” I say finally. “I’m here for my annual exam.”

“Is that so?” he asks.

“Yes. That’s it. Just a routine exam,” I confirm with a nod.

“Hmm.” A noncommittal hum from him. The sound reverberates through my body.

He stalks closer, and I swallow nervously. Before, I was freezing, but now I’m suddenly hot. The warmth starts low in my stomach and spreads until it reaches my fingertips and toes.

Cold eyes flick over the thin paper gown that I clutch closed against my chest. They move down to my bare thighs, which are crossed one over the other.

“Spread your legs.”

“Ex-excuse me?” I stammer, taken back by his abruptness.

“I said, spread your legs,” he enunciates slowly. “I have to get out the stirrups.” He gestures to where I sit, to the stirrups folded into their designated slots in the exam table under me.

“Oh! Yes, of course.” I lift my legs and hold them out to each side.

Great, now he thinks I’m stupid.

Dr. West bends low to pull out the stirrups and unfold them. Small pieces of white fabric are on each end, where my feet will go, almost like the stirrups are wearing socks. I stare at the scraps of fabric, perplexed.

He follows my gaze. “To protect your feet from the cold metal.”

“That’s thoughtful. Thanks.” I place my bare feet with their sparkly red painted toes into each side and scoot closer to the edge.

“Your comfort is my utmost concern,” he drawls. I think he’s teasing, but I’m not sure.

“Lean back.”

I slide down until I’m lying flat on cool paper that crinkles beneath me.

He looms at the end of the table and stares at me, his expression unreadable.

“Good,” he declares after a pause. He disappears, and there’s the squeaking of rolling wheels. Earlier, I’d noticed a small white stool in the corner of the room. I assume he’s moving that over to me now. I expect him to sit, but he doesn’t.

Instead, there’s the sound of splashing water and the ripping of paper towels. I crane my head to see his back to me as he washes his hands. He wears a long white lab coat over dark blue scrubs. Even through all that material I can see the powerful muscles of his shoulders ripple with every motion.

God, he’s hot,I think, followed quickly by,why does he have to be so hot? That just makes this even more uncomfortable.

The truth is, Ihategetting my annual exam. I should have done it months ago, but I’d put it off, dreading the indignity and discomfort of it. I hate how you have to get completely naked. I hate how invaded I feel afterward.

Calm down,I tell myself.You have to do this.The last thing I want is to miss some terrible diagnosis because I was too chicken to go to the doctors. Between my low salary as a high school teacher and the medical bills from when my parents died, there’s not much left in my bank account. If I got sick and had to take time off, I’m not sure I could cover my rent.

Lost in these thoughts, I jump, startled, when Dr. West reappears next to me. Without a word, he peels back the front of my gown, releasing my naked breasts. My hands fly up to cover my nipples, which are peaked from the cold air washing over them and maybe also from the handsome doctor.

He pulls my hands away and lays them down along my sides.

“Breast exam,” he says gruffly.

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