Page 65 of Doctor I Do

My gaze flicks to Alex and Mike, and then back to Alice. The twinkles back in her eye, and I swear I see hope. Does she hope we are more too?

A heavy sigh slips, and I lean forward on the counter, ceasing any further preparations on coffee and snacks. Alex has given me a few lessons on how to work the machine now.

“Honestly?” I whisper. A swirl of nerves rolls down my stomach at opening up about my struggles with Alex and me.

“Tell me, T,” she begs. “I know you like to keep things to yourself, but it’s not healthy. Is he being awful to you?”

I shake my head. “I wish.” I laugh, but it’s strained.

Straightening up, I return to the plate of cookies, fruit, and cakes, arranging them in a nice order.

“What is it then?”

My eyes flick over to see Mike hand baby Ethan to Alex, and I bite down on my lip. The way my ovaries are dancing at the sight has me blurting, “This strange attraction I have for him.”

“Oh.” Her face opens up with surprise.

I turn back to him, unable to turn away for too long. The way he’s rocking and peering down at Ethan is too sweet. I can see mouth movements but can’t hear them. I’m guessing it’s cooing to calm Ethan. And God, this makes me want to fall into a puddle on his kitchen floor. Dammit. Why does a hot guy holding a baby make my knees go weak?

“Have you acted on it?”

Her question has me taking in his biceps, which are on show at this angle.

He’s hot, and holding a baby, it’s like Kryptonite.

“We’ve come close,” I admit.

“But you don’t want it?”

I bite my lip, willing my blush to stay away. But it fails, and I feel the heat hit my cheeks. I drag my gaze to the food, picking up a cookie and taking a bite. “Just the opposite.”

“Oh, T, don’t be embarrassed.”

“Why not? I’ve made it obvious on more than one occasion, and both times, he has turned me away.”

Her head turns, and I follow her gaze, looking at Alex and Mike sitting on the sofa. Ethan is quiet and content, not making a sound. He’s like a baby whisperer on top of a doctor. Maybe he should have worked with children instead. He seems to be good at it. But he also seems to be good at everything.

“I see something in him. He’s a really good guy. From the moment I met him, I thought he was special, and hey, he agreed to be your fake husband. Let’s remember that he did that for you.”

I let her words sink in. But they make me a little irritated. Not at him, but at me. Why does he have to be so kind to pretend when there's nothing in it for him? I was sure he did it for me, but avoiding any advances and turning me down doesn’t ease the turmoil running through me. “Then why avoid kissing me or taking things further?” I ask the burning question. I know she doesn’t have the answer—only he does. But I want to hear her answer. I need to hear other people’s thoughts and opinions, other than my own conclusions.

“Maybe because he doesn’t want to ruin what you two have.”

I’ve thought that too.

“Maybe,” I say, but not really believing her.

“You could ask him.”

“That’s a bit awkward. Can you imagine me saying, ‘Hey, Alex, how come you turn me down?’” I wince at how bad that sounds.

No chance.

I can’t ask him.

I’m hanging on to whatever dignity I can.

She smiles kindly at me. “It’s not mortifying, just ask him. You might be surprised by the answer.”

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