Because she’d ask questions.
And I’d tell her, because I’d been carrying all of the stress for so long; I knew it was only a matter of time before I blurted everything out.
I eyed the clock in the corner. She was supposed to come in today by two.
It was two thirty.
I closed my eyes and waited for my office door to open, and when it didn’t, I went over to it and jerked it open myself, looking up and down the hall for any sign of her dark-brown hair or long legs.
Hanging my head, I was just getting ready to turn back around when I saw a flash of dark hair down the hall and then, she was walking toward me. Her face in a tight smile, her body hugged by a beautiful black wrap dress, and her chin held high.
So she was going to play it that way, huh?
Angry Austin was a thing to behold.
Fucking gorgeous.
Wild.
I had to bite my tongue to keep from charging toward her and tugging her into the closest exam room.
When she finally stopped in front of me, I pointed to my office and said, “We need to talk.”
She stiffened. Hell.
“Dr. Holloway?” Mia’s soft voice sounded behind me. “Your two thirty is ready for you.”
I gritted my teeth together. “Be right there.”
Austin’s eyebrows shot up. She crossed her arms. “Well, don’t keep the world waiting, Dr. Holloway.” I hated that the way she said my name affected me so much, physically and emotionally.
“Come on.” I didn’t give her a chance to argue. Besides, she needed stuff for her blog? She was in for a wild ride with this client.
Miranda had been a patient at the practice for about ten years, and every year, there was just one more thing she thought she needed done, no matter how many times any of us told her she didn’t.
I opened the door and swept in. “Miranda, this is Austin Rogers. She’s a local grad student shadowing me. Will it be alright for her to listen in on our appointment?”
Miranda smiled. Her face was shot to hell with fillers—ones that Troy had no doubt given her and charged an arm and a leg for since I refused to give her any more. “Of course, that’s lovely.”
Miranda was a gorgeous woman, but few of her parts were still natural, and with her pushing seventy, it worried me to put her under the knife again. Surgery became riskier and riskier the older the patient.
“So, what did you want to discuss?” I pulled out a seat.
Miranda wasn’t a typical appointment. She didn’t come in for a regular consult. Rather, she came in and asked me to basically look at her from head to toe and tell her where I thought adjustments should be made, and ever since I had first seen her two years ago and got the lowdown from Troy on her past, I would tell her, You’re perfect, go eat a cookie.
“A breast augmentation, maybe some Botox?” She actually blushed. “Remember a few weeks ago when I came in for a consult and . . .” She glanced at Austin, then back at me, her jet-black curly hair bouncing on her shoulders with the movements. “Troy said that I could benefit from a few things, and I just . . . I wanted a second opinion.”
I sighed. “You don’t need to worry about me telling him that you used me as a second opinion, and since I have Austin in here, there’s no need to grab one of my nurses. Why don’t you show me what you’re talking about, hmm?”
What followed was a painfully long hour filled by me convincing her she didn’t need anything done, and her arguing with me over what my partner had said.
“Listen.” I rubbed my tired eyes with the back of my hand. “All I’m saying is that surgically, your breasts don’t need the lift. If you need it emotionally in order to feel better, that’s an entirely different thing, alright?”
She left.
Thank God.
But that meant the next two appointments were going to run into each other.
Austin didn’t say anything as I breezed by her; she just followed, damn it. I was itching to talk to her, to explain myself, to do anything, and the worst part? Every time I made eye contact with her, her stare back was so hollow, I wanted to punch something.
Mia walked by us, handed Austin two granola bars and me a folder, and winked.
She deserved a raise.
I devoured the bar, knocked on the door, and introduced myself, and in that moment, knew I was absolutely, completely screwed.
Austin’s mom stared back at us wide-eyed and then blushed bright red. “Austin?”
“Mom?”
Oh look! Hell!
Chapter Twenty-Six
AUSTIN
My mom.
In Thatch’s office.
Why was my mom in Thatch’s office? Why was this happening? Had I just walked into an alternate universe, one where my mom used words like “nipple”?
I loved my mom, don’t get me wrong, but, this?
Did Dad know?
As far as I was concerned, she’d never even discussed a boob job or anything like it. Besides, her boobs, unlike mine, were basically perfect, like every part of her!
I closed my mouth and shared a horrified look with Thatch, who looked like he was ready to puke, though I wasn’t sure why. It was his job! And it wasn’t like he was touching his own mom’s boobs.
Too far, Austin. Too far.
“What are you doing here?” Mom and I said at the same time.
“Austin’s shadowing me for one of her classes,” Thatch answered, saving me from having to explain myself. I would not be thankful for the save. I would not let his kindness in this moment minimize his rejection this morning.
Spine straightening, I faced my mom. “So? Why are you here?”
“I um—” She looked panicked. “A—” The look she shared with Thatch wasn’t normal. “A breast implant.”
“Implants, you mean?” I corrected. “Not that Thatch can’t just stuff one for you, but I’m pretty sure Dad would have something to say about you being lopsided in pictures.”
Mom’s strained laugh wasn’t normal, not at all.
What the heck was going on?
Thatch grabbed her clipboard and then shielded it from my face, before pulling the top sheet off and shoving it into his front pocket. “So, from what I’ve read, you want to get small implants with a lift?”
Mom nodded.
“And this lift . . . is for . . . yourself? Your husband?”
Mom was silent and then said, “Of course. Both!”
“Right.” Thatch clenched his teeth. “Well, let’s see what we’re working with.”
Yeah, that wasn’t normally how he did things.
I frowned. Why was he being so unprofessional? Maybe because he knew my mom, or at least had met her a few times when we dated? Regardless, she swallowed and then nodded to me. “Do I just—take off my shirt?”
I smiled. “Mom, relax, Thatch is really good at what he does.” Thatch didn’t look at me. “I mean, you know, when he goes to work sober and decides not to fondle your breasts for a little too long because he forgets he’s supposed to be measuring things, or like that one time when he accidently gave someone a thripple.”
My mom knew I was kidding. She laughed.
Meanwhile Thatch looked like he was ready to strangle me. “Amazing you even know what a thripple is, since you can’t even say the word ‘nipple’ without blushing.”
“Nipple,” I blurted. “What’s so hard about that?” I emphasized the word “hard” and glanced down at his crotch, my eyebrows lifting a bit as if to say, Aw, poor baby can’t even get it up?
Mom let out a little squeak. “You know, I think I’ve changed my mind.”
“Stay.” I was still staring at Thatch. “Maybe he’ll give it to you for free. After all, he did technically sleep with one of his patients, right Thatch? Wouldn’t want that getting out.” I was bluffing, but I was pissed and probably didn’t realize how pissed I was until that moment.
“Bullshit!” he roared. “You aren’t even a real patient!”
br /> “I signed papers!” I fired back.
“You know.” Mom grabbed her purse. “I think I’ll just wait until later. Austin, I’ll see you at home. Thatch.” She waved and then closed the door behind her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Thatch yelled. “Do you realize that I can get fired for what you said?”
“Please!” I rolled my eyes. “It was my mom, and she wants a boob job about just as bad as she wants a third leg!”
“You’d be surprised why your mom wants what she wants.”
“Oh well, that’s cryptic, and you suddenly know so much about my family?”
His face paled again.
“Whatever, I’m leaving.” I stomped out of the exam room and nearly lost an arm as Thatch jerked me toward his office and slammed the door behind us.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THATCH
“I didn’t leave you,” I said hoarsely. “So stop taking your anger out on everyone else! I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But you did,” she argued. “I woke up alone!”
I ran my hands through my hair and tried to think of a way to explain without giving her all the details. “This morning, I didn’t leave the building. I wasn’t abandoning you or trying to get out of the awkward morning-after part where you wonder if you’re going to get more sex or if the person’s going to make a run for it.”
She sighed and looked down at the ground. “Well, aren’t you curious which it would have been?”
“Yes.” My body ached for hers.
“Too bad.” She marched over toward the door and placed her hand on the knob. “If you didn’t leave the building, where were you?”
“Does it really matter? I didn’t leave you.”
“It matters to the girl you slept with and then abandoned most of the night, yes.”
“I was with you until five o’clock this morning.”
“Did you want a prize for cuddling?” she countered.
“Are you handing them out?” I tried joking.
She glared.
I held up my hands. “If you must know, I was across the hall.”
Confusion marred her angry features. “Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. “Doing what? Borrowing a cup of sugar? Pancake mix? What?”
I scratched my head. “My neighbor came home drunk, he was banging on all the doors, and he’d given me a spare key for emergencies, because sometimes . . .” Think, Thatch, think. “Sometimes I water his plants and feed his dog.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And both the plants and dog are still alive?”
“Very funny.”
“So you helped him into his apartment.” She put her hands on her hips. I could tell she was mulling over the information to see if I was being honest or just trying to get out of trouble.
“I swear.” I took a step toward her. “The last thing I wanted to do at five in the morning was leave my bed, with you sleeping in it.”
She nodded, exhaling a breath that she must have been holding in. Austin leaned her body against the door and broke off all eye contact. “If I ask you a question, will you be completely honest with me?”
“Yes.” Depends on the question. Please don’t ask about my family, and don’t tell me about yours.
“Have I gained weight?”
Yeah, so not what I was expecting. “What?”
“Weight.” Her eyes locked on mine. “Have I gained weight?”
“Where is this coming from?” I had a sneaking suspicion I knew—her father valued the illusion of perfection above all else. How ironic that the world around him was crumbling, and he had no freaking clue.
“Nothing, never mind, you answered already.” She reached for the door again, getting it only about an inch open before I slammed it closed and turned the lock.
“Hell no.” I placed my hands on her hips and turned her toward me. “Look at me.”
Slowly she tilted her chin up.
“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
Her lower lip wobbled.
“No, you haven’t gained weight, Austin, but if you had? Who the hell cares? Life is about living, it’s about being happy, and if you want extra dessert, eat the extra fucking dessert, alright? It’s not like I don’t know about your MoonPie stash or the fact that your drink of choice is Mountain Dew over wine. In fact, I bet you even had some this morning—it’s your thing when you get stressed, and it’s okay.” A tear slid down her cheek; I wiped it away with my thumb. “Do you hear what I’m saying to you? It’s okay. You’re beautiful because you’re you. Don’t let a size define perfection, when it’s your heart that I love the most.”
Love.
Hell.
I just said love.
I didn’t mean to.
I meant it.
I didn’t mean to say it.
Out loud.
Her eyes widened just a fraction before she crushed her mouth against mine—and I just.
Lost.
It.
I was overcome with a swell of rightness when her mouth moved over mine, and—as much as logic told me I needed to push her the hell away—my body refused to listen, just like my brain, and my heart, the useless vessel she’d owned the minute she weaseled her way into my life and refused to back down even when I was a complete jackass to her.
An electric current of lust pulsed between us as I tugged at her knit dress, exposing her breasts; my tongue dipped and swirled inside her mouth, welcoming a deeper kiss—needing more of her as I wrestled off the rest of her dress and left it as a pool on the floor.
Chest heaving, I pulled away from her briefly to catch my breath, to see if this was still okay—what we were doing.
But she clawed at my back and kept thrusting her tongue inside my mouth like she was going to die if I stopped kissing her.
So I didn’t.
It wasn’t really an option for us anymore.
Quitting.
Walking away.
God knew it was the best option—it just meant I finally had to come clean, and I was so damn afraid that if I told her the truth, she really would walk away on her own accord and destroy me in the process.
I sucked in a greedy inhale of her skin like a complete lunatic; I could have sworn my testosterone was kicking into such high gear that I was ready to explode on the spot from a simple make-out session. It had always been that way with Austin, though—complete sexual madness.
“I’ve always wanted you naked in my office,” I confessed, walking her back toward my desk.
“Interesting.” She gave me a coy smile. “Since I’ve always wanted to do this!” She pushed off a stapler and my phone.
“Wow, don’t go too wild,” I teased.
“Well, I knew you’d have to clean it up, so . . .” She shrugged and then grabbed me by the neck and skimmed my lips with her tongue before opening her mouth up to me.
I took full advantage of her vulnerability, straddling her against the desk and slowly turning her around. I bent her forward and tugged her ear with my teeth. “Is this okay?”
“No, it’s horrible, please stop,” she panted in a raspy voice. “It’s more than okay.”
I slid her palms forward, pressing them flat against the surface of my desk before I quickly unbuttoned my jeans and freed myself.
My body throbbed as I strained toward her. The view of her ass was out of this world, her skin pulsing beneath my hands as I jerked her against my body and thrust deep inside.
Austin slammed her hands against the desk, arching her body back as I pulled almost completely out, then pumped into her again, unable to control the possessive urge to claim her—in my office—to mark her and show her that I wasn’t ever letting her go—no matter the cost.
“Thatch—”
I silenced her with another thrust and cupped her breasts, my blood pounding in my ears as I felt her body respond.
“Dr. Holloway?” It was Mia on the other side of the door.
I ignored her.
r /> “Dr. Holloway?”
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, and then yelled, “One minute.”
“I’d say at least three,” came Austin’s response.
I nuzzled her neck and slowed my thrusts, our bodies moving in sync with each other, her eyes closed as her head fell back against my chest. “Just like that.”
“Like this?” I swiveled my hips and kissed her below her ear, then peppered kisses down her jaw as I continued to move inside her—I would never get enough of her, of this feeling.
I was in too deep.
Figuratively.
Literally.
“Dr. Holloway?”
“Fire her,” Austin moaned. “I’m so close.”
“Well, in that case . . .” I started to pull away.
“Don’t you dare!” she hissed. “I’ll slit your tires again and get you a pet frog.”
“Oh look, my erection’s gone,” I joked, my tongue teasing her ear as I pulled completely out and flipped her around, pulling her leg around my waist and entering her again, our gazes locked.
There was still so much fear in her eyes.
Fear I’d put there.
“You’re beautiful.” I kissed her forehead and felt her body come apart around mine.
“Dr. Holloway!”
“Coming,” I said through clenched teeth while Austin burst out laughing.
“This is a business establishment, Doctor.” Austin cupped my face with her hands and pressed a tender kiss to my lips. “I love you.”
“What?” All the air left the room. “What did you just say?”
Tears filled her eyes. “I love you.”
Tell her.
Tell her, damn it!
“I love you too.” I shoved the guilty voice away.
Later.
I’d tell her later.
Because the last thing I wanted was to ruin the moment.
The moment I did the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do.
Fall in love.
And allow myself to be vulnerable to heartache. But quitting her? It was impossible, I’d learned that in a few short weeks.
And now, the thought of her walking away felt like a crack in the chest.