Page 14 of Misery and Ecstasy

“Shit.”

Leaving my phone on the counter, I walk back down the hallway and into my office.

“Draven, I apologize again. It was my…” I freeze and stop talking the moment my eyes land on the sleeping man on my sofa.

Uh…

I stand frozen, not knowing what to do. This has never happened before. Do I wake him up? If he were anormalpatient, that’s what I would do.

Approaching the sofa, I lightly pat him on the arm trying to rouse him.

When that doesn’t work, I grip his shoulder a little tighter and shake him gently.

To which I receive a mild snort followed by rhythmic, deep breathing.

The dude is out cold.

Standing over him, I take in his appearance in more detail than I did earlier, now that I can stare as long as I want without judgment. Draven has always been handsome. I remember thinking so from the first night I met him, the very first time I was summoned to the clubhouse to meet with Delilah. He’d shown up outside of my old office as I was leaving for the night.

Scared the fucking shit out of me, but even my terror couldn’t mask how remarkable he was.

I notice the unfamiliar motorcycle the moment I exit the building my office is in, but I don’t see anyone nearby. We share the space with a few other tenants, so I assume it belongs to someone here to see one of them.

Even though it’s nine at night and all the businesses in the building have been closed for hours.

A shiver skitters down the back of my neck and across my shoulders as I quicken my stride toward my car.

“Dr. Caraway?”

The voice comes out of nowhere the moment I reach for my door handle, fear spinning me around to face its owner. Dropping everything in my arms, my hand flies to my chest, terrified by the sudden appearance of a man I’ve never met before. I chastise myself for not having my keys in my hand, ready to unlock and jump into my car.

“Sorry.” His hands come up in surrender as though he’s trying to assure me he isn’t a danger. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Before I can reprimand him for sneaking up on someone the way he did and ask him how hethoughthis approach would go over, he ducks down and picks up the patient file I dropped along with my keys. I watch, unmoving as he works to get all of the paper back into the folder before handing it to me.

Dumbfounded, I stare at it for a moment before taking it back. I swallow, barely able to push the ball of nerves out of my throat.

“Wh—who are you? What do you want?”

A gentle smirk spreads across his plump lips. My eyes quickly dip down to the darkened square of his chin before roving over his long eyelashes. He’s got a toothpick between his lips, his tongue teasing it back-and-forth from one corner of his mouth to the other. It’s sexy the way his tousled, shoulder-length, brown hair curls behind his ears.

When I meet his dark eyes, there's a glimmer of amusement in them. The color is indiscernible in the dimly-lit parking lot, but I can feel them drawing me in.

His level of attractiveness is overshadowing my fear of him.

A stupid fact for me to admit, even to myself.

His tongue dips out, wetting his lips before he shifts the toothpick to the other corner of his mouth.

“My name is Draven. I’m the VP of the Royal Bastards here in Gettysburg.”

My eyes briefly flick over his vest, taking in the different patches attached to it.

I’ve seen them around town before, but I’ve never met any of them. Their reputation precedes them, however.

“A friend of mine, Harleigh, called you to schedule an appointment for someone.”

“Yes. Yes, I remember.” The words fly out of my mouth. Terrified. Irritated. I need him to get to the point of why he thinks approaching me at night, in an empty parking lot, was the correct course of action for whatever reason he’s here. “Are you the friend?”

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