Page 74 of Dr. Billionaire Playboy

“Perhaps,” I swallowed.

“You’re still going to tell him,” she said, “He deserves to know.”

“I just don’t know how to bring it up,” I said.

“Do you like him?”

“What?”

“Do you like him?” she crossed her arms. In moments like this, she reminded me of our dad, “What’s he like anyway?”

“He’s stubborn, arrogant, jealous, possessive, aggressive,” his traits flew right out of my mouth, “But at the same time, he’s scared, lonely, childish, and has a beautiful laugh. He’s extremely intelligent, kind, and…”

“And?”

“Knows how to give me heart palpitations by doing practically nothing,” I continued.

“Wow, doctor talk,” she chuckled as she leaned against the door, “So, what’s the fear?”

“He’s a playboy…a womanizer…although he hasn’t done any of those things since we first kissed,” I played with my fingers, “Don’t tell Mom or anyone else.”

“You have my word,” she said, “But does he feel the same way about you?”

I remembered how angry he had gotten when he found out I had left his house without telling him. How he desperately had tried to learn to ride the bike to impress me but fell.

How he had held me close to himself…the look of fear in his eyes and uncertainty at how fast things were changing for him.

“I think he might, but I can’t say for sure,” I admitted.

“We have to test that, don’t we?” she asked as she scratched her head, “All right, I have an idea to test his feelings for you.”

“I’m all ears,” I got up from the toilet and put on my things, “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, if a man is in love with a woman, he’d be willing to make sacrifices for her,” she said, “Even if it means appearing for something important to her. And I think we both know a little something that needs an appearing act.”

Chapter sixteen

A Damsel in Distress

Adam

I paced back and forth in my office, practicing my lines. After the labor’s success, I spent the weekend trying to get my life in order.

It was Monday again. Crystal had five days off but was supposed to come that morning for some other office-related duties.

I wanted to call or text her, but I realized that I didn’t have her phone number.

“Stupid, stupid,” I facepalmed myself.

“Do it three more times and a little harder. If we’re lucky, you’ll give yourself a concussion,” Catherine said. She was seated on my guest seat and reading through a medical dictionary, “Here, use this book.”

“You’re being quite mean today,” I said but I didn’t stop my pacing.

“Because you don’t listen to me anyway,” she sighed.

“What’s gotten your panties in a twist?” I scoffed as I stopped pacing.

“No, it’s just…” she stopped and brought out a box. When she opened it, there was a ring, “A lot on my mind right now.”

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