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“Come on, they’re almost at the table.” Dr. Montgomery places his hand on the small of my back to let me lead the way. The contact causes my skin to prick with goose bumps. When the four of us arrive at the booth, I find myself sandwiched between the children and all I can do is laugh.

“So, what’s everyone having?” I ask as I look from right to left at both kids. In unison they both answer, “Chocolate chip waffles.”

“I see you’ve been here before.” Their little heads bob up and down.

“We come here all the time with Uncle Preston,” Avery declares and I lift my gaze to catch my doctor’s eyes.

“What will you have?” he inquires.

“I’m having the same. What about you?”

“Same. It’s my weekend staple.”

Interesting. “That’s funny. I’ve been coming here for years and I’ve never seen you before.” Small lines etch away at his features and his pupils appear to grow larger, but he quickly masks the change and smiles.

“I’m usually here a bit earlier than this, but with the kids today . . .”

The waitress comes over and he orders the famous chocolate chip waffles with whipped cream for all of us. When she steps away, I turn my attention back to Logan on my right hand side who is racing his cars across the table in front of me.

“Who’s winning?” I ask.

“Lightening McQueen,” he exclaims and the excitement in his little voice fills me with excitement, too.

“Of course he is.”

“So, do you guys live around here?” I’m looking at Logan when I ask this, but the truth is I’m secretly hoping for an answer from his uncle. The desire to know more about this man is all encompassing.

“Not us,” Logan replies as he pushes the car back and forth, the little tires scratching at the wood of the table. “But Uncle Preston does.” I look up.

“Where do you live?” He fidgets in his chair before answering.

“Lexington and Thirty-Fifth.”

“Oh? I’m on Thirty-Third and Third.” He nods but doesn’t reply. Instead, he reaches across the table for the rogue car that Logan has rolled his way and proceeds to enter the race.

I watch him for a moment. I watch sun stream in through the window and blanket him with a glow. I watch the love that pours from him toward the kids. This is a man I want to know. A man I could be friends with. It’s the first time in a long time that I wish time would cease, but instead, it seems to pass faster than normal. There’s never a lull in the conversation between us. The kids tell us stories all about kindergarten and their friends and all the mischief they get themselves into. The waitress returns with our breakfast and the table is filled with sounds of food joy.

I lift my fork and take another giant mouthful, this time scooping up extra cream.

As I enjoy and savor the flavor, I hear a round of giggles echoing through the air.

“What?” I lift my eyebrow and from across the table Dr. Montgomery leans forward. Time stands still as his hand reaches up.

“You have a—” His finger wipes my lip and it causes my breath to hitch. Our eyes lock. The intensity of his stare sears me. Every ounce of oxygen leaves my body, but then his blue eyes widen in shock as he realizes what he’s done. His hand jerks back, as though burned.

“You had something . . . I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he stammers.

“It’s okay.” I try and shake it off, but I still feel his finger on my skin.

“That was funny. It looked like you had a mustache.” Logan laughs. Then Avery joins in and pretty soon the tension has dissipated as we all begin to laugh. Through our laughter, I notice the waitress deliver the bill and I reach into my purse, but I’m met with Dr. Montgomery shaking his head at me from across the table.

“My treat.”

“Thank you, I had such a great time with you guys today.” Logan grabs my hand. His little fingers are sticky to the touch.

“Do you want to go sledding with us?” he asks and I glance out the window. This morning when I left the apartment, I hadn’t noticed how perfect it was outside. But now sitting here, I see that it’s a beautiful winter day. The streets of Manhattan are blanketed with freshly fallen snow. It’s still clean and glistens into a beautiful crisp white.

“You guys are going sledding?” My right eyebrow rises in question and Dr. Montgomery’s lips spread into a large grin.

“It’s on the list of cool uncle duties.”

“Oh, you’re the cool uncle?”

“You bet.”

“I can totally see that. So, sledding. That sounds like fun.” I can imagine him running with kids in Central Park, sled in tow. What I would do to see that.

“Come. Please, please, please!” Avery chimes in with her own little pleas. Dr. Montgomery is deep in thought, but when our gaze catches, he exhales.

“You could join us if you want?” His lips turn up. It’s a different smile and so unlike all the other smiles I’ve now seen from him today. It’s not the smirk, nor is it the mesmerizing one where his eyes twinkle. It’s not the one that he gives his niece and nephew either. No, this smile says he’s unsure. That he wants me to come, he just doesn’t want to blur the lines anymore than he already has. This smile makes me beam up at him. But then my lips purse because I can’t go. I need to check on my mom.

“I can’t, guys.” Both kids pout. “I already have plans. I wish I could say yes, but unfortunately, I can’t. Maybe next time.” Please, God, let there be a next time.

We all go awkwardly silent for a minute, the kids silently sulking. When the waitress returns with his change, we stand.

“Can we see you again?” Logan says to me.

“Of course. I would love that.”

“It was good seeing you, and thank you for being so good with them,” Dr. Montgomery says. Both kids run up to give me a hug and as I hug them back I give them all a small smile and turn to leave.

I’m off to my mom’s and they’re off to have a perfect day, one I wish I could have with them.

I exit the restaurant and decide to walk the distance to my mother’s apartment. My feet slip into a slow, sluggish rhythm as I make my way down the sidewalk. I’m procrastinating. That much is obvious. There are a million things I would rather be doing than heading uptown to take care of my mother. One of them is sledding. I yearn to be silly and normal and to enjoy myself. But instead, I find myself standing on the corner, waiting for the light to change.

A knot is forming in my stomach from worrying what I will find when I arrive. No, I can’t let my brain go there right now, not after my wonderful morning. In place of the dreary thoughts looming over me, I think of the kids and Dr. Montgomery. Today I saw a different side of him, a playful side. I’m not sure that’s the kind of thing I should know about my doctor. I’m already attracted to him physically, and seeing him like this . . . It’s confusing. He’s not like this in his office. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act now.

A memory flashes before my eyes. His finger. The feel of his skin on mine as he slides away the cream that collected on my lip.

Shit. This just got a whole lot more complicated.

AS I PEEL the clothes off my body hours later, my cell phone rings. I’m not sure who it could be, but I tense when I see it’s my mother. Panic sets in. I was with her earlier today. This can’t be good.

“Hey, Mom. Are you okay?”

“I’m dying.” Shit.

“You’re not dying, Mom.” Nervously, I pace my room. This can’t be happening right now. I want to scream.

“No, I am. This time for sure.”

“Why do you think that?”

“My head is killing me and I have this weird rash on my arms. I know it’s spreading. I can feel it.”

“Can you, or is it in your mind?”

“I resent that you think that way. Of course it’s not in my mind. I need you to take—”

“Mom, I was there all afternoon and you were fine. I’m not

coming back to your apartment to take you to the hospital over a headache.”

“But it could be anything! I could have a tumor. It could be cancer. I could die. You have no idea. I could be dying,” she screams over the phone.

My entire body is tense, as if I’m glass and one wrong word will send me crashing into a million pieces. “Okay, Mom. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

And just like that, I fall to pieces.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EVE

SOFT KISSES FAN MY SKIN. They trace my collar to the hollow of my neck. My fingers thread in his hair. A soft, desperate moan escapes me. I want him so much. Right here, right now. He trails his hand downward. Tingles spread across my body, lower and lower until he’s teasing my entrance.

“Preston.”

I shoot forward. My breath is uneven and ragged. I try to gain my composure, but it’s virtually impossible as I’m brought back into the first dream I’ve had in weeks. I exhale a shallow breath.

What the hell is going on with me?

First, disturbing nightmares filled with blood, and now, sexual dreams about my therapist. I’m starting to think Preston—Dr. Montgomery—should give me a referral to a doctor who can medicate me. I’m obviously crazy.

Needing an outlet for my pent up frustrations, I pick up my journal and start writing.

JOURNAL ENTRY

I thought of him all day. I dreamt of him all night. I dreamt of how his hands would feel while he rocked me.

With every minute that passes, I wonder how his lips would taste. For some reason, I want to tell him everything, and I want him to hold me in his arms as I confess the demons that lurk inside.

By the time I calm myself enough to look at the clock next to my bed, the damn thing starts blaring with upbeat tunes. It’s after six in the morning. When I enter the kitchen, I find Sydney already dressed for work.

“Good morning, sunshine. Where were you yesterday?” she asks from her perch on a stool at the kitchen island.

“After breakfast, which you were too hung-over to attend, I went to my mom’s. You were sleeping by the time I got home . . . or were you still sleeping?”

“You know, if you had woken me I would have joined you for breakfast.”

“Um, I did try to wake you. We had a whole conversation, you don’t remember? How drunk were you?” I chide, but secretly I’m happy she was holed up in bed yesterday. My cheeks warm and a flush spreads across my body.

“Why are you turning bright red? Did something happen?”

“Um, no.” It’s no big deal, but I doubt she’d understand my schoolgirl crush. I have it completely under control. Nothing is happening. Nothing will happen. It’s completely innocent. Just because he unnerves me, comforts me and makes me feel stronger, doesn’t mean . . .



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