The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood 1)

“She hates people.”

He cradled my face in a hand, holding me steady as his mouth roamed down the column of my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the shiver I knew he’d cause.

“She likes you,” he argued.

I stroked my palms down his t-shirt covered chest, enjoying the feel of the hard muscles beneath them. I loved having him back in my hands. “I have my moments.”

Greg’s traveling kiss ventured back up to my lips, where he lingered for a long moment. As he drew back, it came from him in a burst. “I might be in love with you too.”

My eyes flew wide open, and I gasped. As I searched his expression, I saw everything in his eyes. He was nervous about admitting it, but it was the truth. Dr. Gregory Lowe was in love with me. How crazy was that?

I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. “Oh, Doctor. What are we going to do about this?”

He planted a searing kiss on me. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

FOUR MONTHS LATER

The headlights of Greg’s car cut through the night as we sped through the rural side streets on our way back to his house. My phone chimed with a text message, and I dug it out of my clutch.

Lilith: How was dinner with Daddy?

Cassidy: Ugh, please stop calling him that.

I pictured her on the other end of the phone, amused with herself.

“Who are you texting?” Greg asked. His eyes stayed on the road, thankfully not shifting to see what she’d sent.

“Lilith,” I said. “She wanted to know how the fundraiser was.”

Cassidy: The event was fine. Glad it’s over.

The hospital held an annual dinner a few weeks before Christmas that was part party for staff, and part fundraiser. It’d been dry chicken, medical jargon I only half-understood, and plenty of raised eyebrows. I wasn’t an idiot. Most of Greg’s colleagues saw me as a trophy girlfriend or thought the age difference was scandalous.

“How was it for you?” He asked it like he hadn’t been by my side all evening, even though he had.

“It was about what I expected. Lots of stares.” I loved the cute black cocktail dress I’d bought for the event but spent the entire night uncomfortable from all the strangers’ judgement.

“Fuck ’em,” he said. “Most of them are just jealous.”

As I stared at him in his sexy suit and tie, the faint lines of silver threading his hair, I understood. If I was any other woman, I’d be jealous of me too. But I was Greg’s first choice, and he was mine.

“I know you didn’t want to go,” he added, “so thanks. I appreciate it.” He took a hand off the steering wheel and set it on my knee.

It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, which was good. My formal coat wasn’t very warm, and the outside temperature was closing in on freezing.

“You doctors sure fall into the stereotype of loving golf. So much conversation about ‘playing the back nine.’ I pretended they were using a euphemism for anal just to keep it interesting.”

Greg’s mouth fell open into an incredulous grin. “Dirty girl.”

I shrugged. He wasn’t wrong.

We made it home, and while Greg was hanging our coats up in the entryway closet, I went into the kitchen just as Preston appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Hey,” he said.

I strived for a bright, casual tone. “Hi.”

Would it ever not be weird seeing each other? Vanderbilt was a big school, so we rarely ran into each other on campus, and winter break was the only reason Preston was home now.

He hadn’t been home alone, though. There was a girl on the landing of the stairs, standing beside him. She was pretty, with big eyes, full lips, and glossy blonde hair I was envious of.

“This is Iris,” he said. “We were just heading out to see a movie.” He gestured to me. “Iris, this is Cassidy, my dad’s girlfriend.”

Surprise splashed on her face.

Preston said it all like it was no big deal. “Yeah, she’s young. We used to date. Whatever, it’s weird.” He slipped his hand behind Iris’s back and pressed her forward. “We need to go or we’re going to be late.”

“Nice meeting you,” she said automatically, not done processing all the info he’d just dumped on her.

“You too,” I lobbed back as they went out the door to the garage.

Sometimes I wondered if he had adjusted better than I had.

Four months ago, Greg had told me we’d figure it out, and we had, for the most part. There were some days that were hard. I only saw him once over Thanksgiving break, due to his job. I still wasn’t twenty-one, which occasionally was a pain when we wanted to go out.

Plus, he’d forced me to watch the movie Alien.

My mom was warming to Greg, ever so slowly. I knew she’d get there eventually. He made me happy, and wasn’t that what really mattered?