The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood 1)

“Uh.” Guilt coated my insides. It tasted like a lie as I said it. “Preston’s. Yeah.”

The water dispenser dripped, and my mother wiped her hand on the side of her shirt. “Oh, I saw Dr. Lowe yesterday.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“I took my car into the dealership. Turns out I had a nail in the back tire, and he was there, waiting on an oil change.”

“Yeah?” Could she hear how I forced casualness into my voice? “Did you say hi?”

“Yeah.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but then her eyebrows pulled together. “Well, sort of. He was on the phone at first.” She screwed the cap shut on her water bottle. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard him asking for restaurant recommendations to take his girlfriend, so I told him about that seafood one we went to last month. That place was great.”

My heart slammed to a stop. “Girlfriend?”

She must not have heard me squeak out the word. “He gave me the strangest look.” Her blue eyes abruptly zeroed in, and I used every ounce of acting strength I possessed to look indifferent, even as I cracked into a million pieces inside. Somehow, my mom didn’t seem to notice. “If anything,” she continued, “he was kind of rude.”

It hurt to speak, and I didn’t know what to say anyway, so I just stared at her.

“Frankly, I’m surprised he has time to date.” The change in my mom’s expression wasn’t subtle. The corners of her mouth ticked downward as she soured. “I hope it doesn’t bother Preston.”

“What?” I didn’t understand what she meant, but also the world was starting to turn upside-down. Greg had a girlfriend. How was it even possible? When was he squeezing in time to see this other woman?

My mom shrugged. “You said you hardly ever see Dr. Lowe. Now it sounds like Preston has to share his father’s limited time with someone else.”

And in my mother’s eyes, Greg still had a lot to make up for.

I blinked, readjusted the purse on my shoulder, and stalled to give my brain time to come back up to speed. “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.” All I could think about was getting answers from him. “But I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay.” My mom brightened. “Have fun.”

As I opened the door and trudged through it, the voice in my mind whispered back it was highly doubtful.

During the drive over, I attempted to organize my thoughts on what I should say. Should I mention the meeting with my mom and see if he’d come out with it? Or did I go in, guns blazing and full of wrath? That was a tall order. Sure, I was angry. It was inside me somewhere, but it was buried under two tons of hurt and disappointment.

I nearly slammed on the brakes when I pulled up to the vacant house down the street from Greg’s. The ‘for sale’ sign on a white post flapped in the breeze, and a large red sticker cut a diagonal across it, boasting it was now sold. Which meant I couldn’t hide my car in its secluded driveway anymore. I had no choice but to park in Greg’s, where I knew Judy would see it.

Fucking great.

I parked, went inside without announcing myself, and found Greg in the kitchen. He took one look at me, and concern swept through his expression. He’d been setting the table, but hesitated. “What’s wrong?”

I slapped my purse down on the island and gave him a hard look. “You ran into my mother yesterday.”

“Oh. Yeah, I did.” He abandoned his task and strode toward me. When I took a step back, his concern grew ten-fold.

“She said you were rude to her.”

“If I was, I’m sorry. She completely caught me off guard. As soon as I got off the phone, she was right there, and I didn’t know what to say. I don’t think she realized she was giving me a restaurant recommendation on where to take you to dinner.”

“What?” Circuits crossed in my brain and fried out. “She told me you have a girlfriend.”

It was his turn to look confused. “Isn’t that . . . you?”

Me? His question physically knocked me back. I was thrilled and scared at the same time. Putting a label on us meant it was serious, and I wanted that, but I also didn’t want the consequences that came with it.

My reaction didn’t go over all that well with him, and his expression went plain. “I’m forty years old.” He sighed. “Honestly, I don’t have time for games. I like you, and you like me, and we’ve been doing . . . whatever it is we’ve been doing for over a month now.” He put his hands on his hips, showing off his perfect frame and his toned arms. “Even though I know it’s complicated, I’d like to keep doing it. Don’t you?”