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Every Breath You Take (The Every Breath Duet Book 1) Page 4
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“That’s just the thing,” she cried. “Sometimes all that freedom is a great big curse.”
I understood. Boy, did I. I also understood that it was killing my mother to see me this way. I had the power to erase her pain and here I was being selfish.
Something’s gotta give. You’re not being fair. She’s given you everything.
I had to grow a set and stop acting like a child. It was time to move forward even if I wasn’t entirely ready to loosen my grip on the past. “Well, then . . . why don’t we make a deal?” I jutted my chin with a smile.
Mom looked at me with her eyes narrowed skeptically, but then a tiny grin appeared on her lips too. “A deal?”
“Yeah, a mother-daughter promise.”
She nodded with a soft giggle. “Sounds like serious business. And you know I’ve never broken a promise to you, even when your demands were nothing short of ridiculous.”
I laughed, remembering the hell I put my poor mother through. “You mean like that time I made you promise to write a letter to the entire cast of Full House, inviting them to my birthday party?”
“Mmm hmm. You hovered over me like a hawk while I wrote it, addressed it to the fan club, and hand delivered it to the postman.”
“They didn’t come, though.” I pouted through a giggle.
“Oh, I know. You made sure to remind me of it every day until the following summer when I had to promise I’d let you audition for that singing competition show.”
I slapped my forehead. My mother never could tell me no, even if I had no business trying out for anything that showcased my inability to carry out even the simplest tune. “God, I was such a brat. How did you put up with me?”
She shook her head and smiled. “You were—you are—my world. I’d do anything to make you happy.”
I didn’t doubt her selflessness; I only hoped I could match it one of these days. “Maybe it’s time I pay it forward and stop being a pain in the ass?”
“Wouldn’t hurt.” She laughed, swiping at the remainder of her tears. “Is this where you promise me you’ll call that doctor?”
I pursed my lips and closed my eyes, sucking in a deep breath through my nose. “While I will think about calling Bryce, our deal is kind of two-fold. You up for the challenge?”
“What’ve I got to lose?” I imagined her shrug meant she was trying to be indifferent. But nothing about the wave of emotions that washed across her face was indifferent. She’d spent most of her adult life as a single working mother, and very little of it doing anything for herself. There were a few boyfriends over the years, but no one serious enough to settle down with. She swore that’s the way she liked it, but being in her shoes now, I imagined she wore a brave face for me and my brother. Humans were not predestined for solitude. Everyone deserved a soul mate. People craved love. It was what made the world go ’round. At least, that’s what I believed. I always would.
“I think it’s time we use all this freedom for good. You only live once, and all that good vibes BS. I’ll stop moping around here and promise not to be the raging bitch I’ve been this past year, if you promise to stop worrying about me and take care of you.”
Blue irises glistened in the bright morning sun beneath a veil of fallen tears. And then a warm smile reached her eyes. I took her compliance, her contentment, as an opportunity to throw in one last part to our deal. “And you’ll finally go out with Mr. Cooper. Give the poor guy a chance already. He’s had a hard-on for you for years.”
“London!” Her hand flew up to her mouth.
It wasn’t unlike me to make my mother blush, but she was very private about her sex life—as most mothers are—and I was sure my request came out of left field. “Well, do we have a deal or not?” I anticipated a rebuttal having to do with Bryce.
But instead, Mom puckered her lips in a sexy Marilyn Monroe-like pose. “Mr. Cooper is pretty hot.”
Laughter ricocheted around us and before long we were both holding our stomachs right there in the middle of the kitchen.
The idea of my mother and that silver fox going at it like teenagers should have grossed me out. Regardless of what form my mother’s happiness came in, it was what mattered most. Life was fleeting. Who knew what would happen next? Mom had always been my role model. Maybe if she put her best foot forward, I’d find the strength to follow her lead.
MOM HAD A date with Henry Cooper. She also had her monthly checkup at the hospital.
Making the date took little effort as Henry flipped his lid when my mother called to invite him over for dinner. The checkup, however, was another story. Getting Mom up and ready for her progress appointment was worse than when she had to drag me out of bed for school.
“Your color is back and you’re practically glowing. I’m sure your hormones are bouncing off the walls because of your dinner with Henry tonight, but I think it’s safe to say the dialysis is working. Why are you dreading this appointment so much?”
“Because I am. I’m allowed to be tired of this shit, London. I’m sick of the hospital, the doctors. I know it’s working, and I’m grateful. I only wish I could go back to being normal. Can’t you understand that?”
Of course I understood. She was nervous about Henry and putting herself back out there. She saw her illness as a weakness; it made her feel unpretty. “I get it, but don’t let it get to you. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, baby.” She sighed, staring out the window of the passenger seat.
With an inherent longing, I glanced over to catch a drive-by view of the beach. A mass of scattered vacationers littered the sand and even in the distance I could make out the swimmers that freckled the ocean. I hadn’t been since summer started. Partly because I wasn’t a fan of the crowds, but also because that ocean contained so many memories.
The waves once carried my secrets out into the abyss. Straight after the breakup, I believed Horseneck was my solace. Not that I found much on that lonely night when the pain of losing Hunter was still so raw, but there was something about walking along the shore and anchoring myself in the sand that brought a sense of peace I could only find there.
We drove most of the way to the hospital in silence. It was nice to know we didn’t have to fill the space with meaningless chatter, that we respected each other’s thought-space. By the time we reached the parking lot, Mom was less agitated and more ready to get it over with.
We signed in and took seats in a small vestibule. Minutes ticked by while I sorted through the calendar on my phone. My game of Words with Friends was cut short when a familiar voice called my mother’s name.
I looked up to confirm what I already knew. At the sight of him an unexpected swarm of butterflies took flight in my belly. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“What, baby?” Mom hooked her purse over her shoulder and stood from her seat.
“Oh, nothing.” I cleared my throat and smoothed my hair into place, all before Doctor Bryce Owen had a chance to make eye contact with me.
I had no idea how this was even possible. Bryce wasn’t the doctor on her case. Someone was playing the joke of all jokes on me.
Unless . . .
“Is this a set up?” I whispered through gritted teeth.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” My mother was notorious for the little white lie here and there, but the blank expression on her face told me she was innocent.
“London?” Bryce’s deep timbre stole my attention—and my balance. He was so good-looking he put the entire cast of Grey’s Anatomy to shame.
“Um . . . hi! What are you doing here?” I didn’t mean to sound rude, but I was so off-kilter.
Bryce chuckled through his nose, looking down. When his eyes were back on me again, his smolder, his confidence, his mischief-ridden smirk made me want to run for the nearest exit. “You never called.”
What was I supposed to say? I’m not ready? I’m not over my ex? I have to wash my hair?
“I told her she should, but London’s as stubborn as th
ey come. Takes after her father’s side of the family.” Mom swooped in with that embarrassing bit, causing my mouth to fall open and Bryce to crack up.
If we weren’t in a waiting room full of people, I’d probably have some choice words for my meddling mother. Instead, I smiled gracefully and introduced her to him. “Mom, this is Bryce. Bryce this is my mother, Ella Monroe.”
“Pleasure, Ms. Monroe.”
During the entire exchange, Bryce’s attention did not leave me. His syrupy eyes inspected me from head to toe, his plump, scruff-shadowed lips curling with a grin. If he kept looking at me like that I’d . . . Who was I kidding? I was already blushing. Heat radiated off my cheeks and the tips of my ears. There was no helping it. If lust had an expression, the one on Bryce’s face would be it.
While the intensity of his gaze should have been uncomfortable, it was anything but. He was a doctor—apparently my mother’s doctor—and a sinfully beautiful one at that. His looks may have been dangerous to any woman’s self control, but his demeanor was not. He was simply smitten. That made me smile. No one had given me the time of day—or I hadn’t noticed if they did—in a long time.
“Are we going to stand here drooling over each other all day or are you going to tell me how I’m doing? I have places to be and people to see. I’d like to leave this hospital sometime today.”
“Mom!” I whisper-shouted. “What’s gotten into you?”
Bryce’s laughter filled the room, garnering a few side-glances and curious stares. “Come on, ladies. There’s an empty examining room where we can finish this.”
Thirty minutes later, we were satisfied with Mom’s progress report. She was in the bathroom getting dressed when Bryce sidled up next to me and finally addressed the elephant in the room. “At the risk of being rejected—again—can I take you for dinner or a drink sometime? I never got your number and it’s clear if I leave it up to you, I’ll be waiting forever. What do you say?”
We didn’t have much time. Mom would be out any second now. I had no desire to do this in front of her. I’d been embarrassed enough for one day, thank you very much. But something wasn’t sitting right with me and before I could accept any kind of offer from Bryce, I needed to set this straight.
Bringing my fingers to my mouth, I tugged on my bottom lip and narrowed my eyes. “I think the better question is how did this . . . coincidence occur, doctor?”
“Coincidence?”
“Yeah. This. You. Here. My mom’s been coming for dialysis for months. I’ve been to most of her appointments. You’re new to the case. How?”
Bryce’s confident swagger did not waver. Deadpan, he explained, “Her regular nephrologist, Doctor Romanoff, is unfortunately ill. My team and I have taken on a good portion of his patients, your mother being one of them. If you’re insinuating that this meeting was deliberate—which is awfully presumptuous of you—I can assure you that’s not the case. On top of the obvious HIPAA laws, I never caught your last name when we met. How could I have possibly finagled this situation?”
“My last name isn’t the same as . . . Never mind.” Suddenly, I felt awfully stupid. I had some nerve to presume he’d gone out of his way for a chance to see me again, didn’t I? The more I pondered it, the more I wanted to crawl into a deep, dark hole and disappear for another year.
“I’m sorry.” I could barely choke it out. My face was hot with humiliation but Bryce was quick to soothe my worries away with the brush of firm fingertips against my scorching cheek.
One could say the intimacy of his gesture was presumptuous as well, but who was I to judge? If you asked me, this whole situation reeked of recklessness. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re a beautiful woman, London. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a long list of men vying for your attention.”
Wasn’t that a concept? But boy, was he off the mark. My failed marriage was a testament to just how wrong he was. “That’s very sweet of you, Bryce, but it’s certainly not true.”
“Well, then.” He leaned closer, his hand still fixed on my cheek. “Maybe I can be first in line?”
I was momentarily stunned by his adorable pick-up line. “What’s so special about me?” I didn’t mean to sound needy. It was a genuine curiosity. Why me? He could probably have any woman in this hospital—outside of it, too. What made me the object of Doctor Dreamy’s affection?
Closing the very small, very unbreathable space between us even further, Bryce dragged the soft pad of his thumb across my lips. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
My breath hitched and my stomach flip-flopped. I relished in the human contact, the touch of a man’s hands. Trying to find the proper words, I batted my eyes with the gooeyness of an adolescent, but my thoughts were suddenly cut short.
“All set. Oh, shit! Sorry.” My mother emerged from the bathroom and then disappeared inside again.
I exhaled the air that was trapped in my lungs and Bryce dropped his hand from my face, the moment between us lost. Straightening himself, he backed away and chuckled. “I really like her.”
“Yeah, she’s a real pip.”
“Pip?”
“Oh, never mind. Ma, the coast is clear,” I called out to her, unwillingly.
The bathroom doorknob turned slowly and I looked to Bryce with apologetic eyes. “Thank you for today, but I think it’s best we get out of here before I mortify myself any further.”
Mom pretended to mind her business by whistling—yes, whistling—her way out of the examination room.
I shook my head and took out my phone. “Should I make another appointment with reception?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
I nodded in return, abandoning so many unspoken emotions, and then spun around to follow after my mother. My sheepish stride came to an abrupt halt when Bryce grabbed hold of my arm.
Playful eyes danced as they pierced through me. “I can lose my license if I search her chart for your number.”
While that was partly true, I didn’t want to follow the rules anymore. A confidence that should have never been dwarfed in the first place, encouraged me to let go of my fears. I tilted my head, jutted my chin, and said, “But you’re her doctor now. I’m next of kin. If you wanted to call me about—let’s say, her latest lab results, that’d be okay, no?”
Bryce’s coy smirk spoke volumes. “So, then. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be around to discuss those lab results over dinner?”
“Smooth, Doctor Owen. Real smooth.”
A deep rumble of laughter filled my ears and traversed down my spine with an exhilarating tingle. I knew in that moment that I wanted to hear more of it.
“SO WHAT IF it’s different? It looks great!”
I stared back at myself in the mirror of the salon, my dull, chestnut hair now amped up with golden highlights. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the much-needed but subtle makeover, I just wasn’t a huge fan of change. I mean, who really was? When you were accustomed to something for so long, deviating from that norm felt almost . . . wrong. Like an abrupt end, a death of whatever it was you swapped or replaced. But I was getting melodramatic. This was only my hair, and even though I was set in my beliefs, when something stopped working for you, change could be a good thing.
Time to embrace change and make it your bitch.
Tousling my freshly cut waves, I smiled at my reflection and then looked past myself to where one of my bosses, Sophie, stood behind me. “Thank you. It really does look great. I love it.”
I stood from the chair, removed the cape, and returned it to its rightful hook. Grabbing the broom from the corner I left it in, I swept up the few inches I shed in the hopes of freshening my look.
Sophie dismissed me by waving her hand and then tidied up her work station. “All work and no play—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know I can’t sit still,” I interrupted with a laugh. “And I have to repay you somehow. The complimentary cut and color were totally unnecessary.”
“Would you stop? It’s the least I can do. Yo
u’ve been working more hours than any stylist in the salon. I had to show my appreciation somehow.”
“Well, thank you.” I curtsied, letting my hair bounce freely. I felt good because I looked good. And my boss’s appreciation only added to those good vibes.
“You know what I tell all my clients after I give them a killer blow-out, right?” Sophie eyed me with a mischievous grin. A grin all of my friends had become very fond of recently. A grin meant to entice me toward calling Bryce.
“I know, I know. One of these days. But not tonight. Tonight, I have a date with laundry.”
“Boring,” she sang before heading to the front of the salon to welcome a walk-in.
Yup. She hit it on the head. My life was boring as hell right now. Time lapsed at a torturously slow pace, lonely days bleeding into even lonelier nights. And yet, a week after I last saw him, I still hadn’t worked up the nerve to get in touch with Bryce.
It wasn’t for lack of wanting him, but my list of excuses went on and on. I was out of practice. Still broken-hearted. Too apprehensive. I was a walking wreck! Who on Earth wanted to get involved with me? Certainly not a respectable doctor like Bryce Owen. No, Doctor Bryce Owen deserved much more. A woman intact, for one. A woman who wasn’t thinking of her ex-husband every time she stared into his coffee-colored eyes or kissed his plump, heart-shaped lips. Bryce wouldn’t be interested in me if he knew what was good for him.
But apparently, Bryce didn’t care what or who was good for him, because Bryce was here.
“Right back there,” Sophie crooned, pointing to where I stood, utterly dumbfounded.
“What are you doing here?” Not only was I confused as to how he found me here, but I felt like Cinderella with the damn broom and apron.
“I have my ways.” His brow quirked, showcasing those eyes that stirred up a longing I wished I could ignore.