Every Reason Not To Pt. 02

Chapter 11

The plane took off to carry me home, but I left my heart there, just another peg on the board of Spencer's conquests. Tears streamed down my face as we broke through the clouds and I saw the sun rising high. He'd be off at class now, probably celebrating the last day with his pals while I flew home crying over a guy who never cared about me at all. I was just another woman he fucked. I was surprised he hadn't tried to keep my panties or whatever it was guys did when they took a girl's virginity.

The woman next to me talked on her cellphone, going on and on about some home decorating ideas, and I tried to tune her out. Life went on for everyone. That was the hardest part of all of this. Life would go on. There was no stopping it. No going back to that moment where I yielded my heart and my body and exchanged the one untouched thing in my life to hands that had touched so much, so many. No takebacks. No do-overs. Only my broken heart and the lingering memories of Spencer's lips on mine to remind me how much I screwed up.

"Hey, are you okay?" the woman next to me asked, staring at me.

"Fine," I mumbled, curling into myself further. I wasn't fine. I was angry and hurt. My heart was in a thousand pieces and all I could think about was why I wasn't good enough. Why he had acted like he wanted me multiple times over months of this past year, then when he had me, he told me it was a mistake. How was I a mistake?

I cried harder, but I turned to look out the window over the wing. I wanted to only feel anger, to let the rage bubble up inside of me so the tears stopped and I could just hate him, but I didn't hate him. I didn't think I could ever hate him. As much as I wanted to hate him, there wasn't a shred of hatred inside my body for him.

Because I loved him.

And that thought had me undone. So unraveled that the woman next to me got the stewardess to bring me a water and some tissues. I sobbed until I had no more tears, leaning on the window and letting my heart fall apart silently. I could tell no one what I was feeling. It wouldn't' matter if I did. No one could undo it, or fix it. No one could make him love me or want me. Only time and space would do that. I didn't even know if time or space would do it.

I let my eyes shut and I slept. It was a fitful sleep, fraught with dreams I didn't want to have and nightmares. When I woke up we were taxiing to the terminal. I had left Columbia behind in favor of something even more difficult. Caring for my sick mother would get my mind off of Spencer Mitchel, but what would help me cope with losing Mom?

I collected my things and followed the stream of people leaving the airplane in search of baggage collection, but I had no checked bags. Curt would visit in a few weeks during the short break between semesters for him. He'd bring everything with him that I needed. All I had was my carry on and my computer bag, which I hefted all the way to the front of the airport where I found Aunt Betty waiting for me with sad eyes.

I rushed up to her and set my things down before wrapping her in my arms. "How is she?" My heart was so full of grief I didn't know if I could take the answer.

"It's not good, Kate," she whispered into my hair as she held me. "It's pretty bad, okay?"

I let more tears fall. I should have left when they told us months ago. I should have come home, cared for her. Enjoyed these days with her. But I stayed because she told me to. She was a warrior, wanted to prove to us she was okay, but it was time lost.

"Let's go, kid. She's waiting for us." Aunt Betty kissed my cheek and led me to the car, and all I could do was slog along behind her crying.

I wanted my life back.

***

... one year later...

It didn't seem right, bright sunshine overhead on such a sad day. Curt stood right next to me, arm wrapped around my waist as the priest spoke warmly about our mother. A picture we had both chosen together had been blown up and framed. It sat on a pedestal next to a wreath with all of Mom's favorite flowers--poppies, asters, roses.

"She'd have loved this, Kate. You did so good," Curt whispered in my ear.

I'd heard it all day long, how beautiful the announcements were, the floral arrangements, the obituary. What did it matter? Mom was gone, and no one would bring her back.

One by one mourners paraded by us, shaking our hands, offering hugs. Each one who passed left me emptier inside, colder. I felt like a shell of who I used to be.

"Why didn't he come?" I asked. Curt knew I was talking about Spencer. I told him to ask Spencer to come.

"Finals," Curt mumbled. I could tell he was disappointed by it too, so I didn't say anything else. But it hurt that he hadn't cared enough to at least send a letter or a flower arrangement.

As the last of the mourners passed by us, Curt led me away from the gravesite. We walked in silence, holding hands, until we reached his car. Curt opened the passenger door for me and I climbed in, barely registering the leather seat beneath me.

Curt got in the driver's seat and started the car, but he didn't drive away. Instead, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft and full of empathy. "Kate, I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but things will get better. It'll take time, but you'll start to heal."

I scoffed. "Heal? How do you heal from losing your mother?"

Curt reached out and took my hand. "You'll never completely heal, Kate. But it won't always hurt this much. You'll learn to live with it."

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. "I don't want to live with it, Curt. I want her back. I want my life back."

Silently, he put the car in drive and headed out of the cemetery. As we drove back to Mom's house, memories of our childhood flooded my mind. Mom was always the one who held us together, with her warm hugs and comforting words. How were we going to survive without her?

Curt parked the car in the driveway and we made our way inside. It was eerie how quiet the house was without her. We sat on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen.

"I don't know how to do this, Curt," I finally broke the silence. "How are we going to keep going without her?"

Curt took my hand in his and looked at me with his deep brown eyes. "I think you should go back to school, finish your degree. It's been a year already. You were only supposed to take the summer off. "

The last thing I wanted was to go back to school, be subjected to watching Spencer flaunt his sexual prowess around in front of me, seeing the trail of women at his door. No, I had no intention of going back.

I could see it in his eyes -- disappointment and frustration. I needed the time off and that was what I was doing. I had to breathe for a while. But Curt was right, I couldn't keep hiding in my grief forever. Maybe going back to school was the push I needed to start moving forward again.

"I'll think about it," I said finally, squeezing his hand. "Thanks for being here for me, Curt. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Curt smiled at me, his dimples making an appearance. "That's what brothers are for."

It was comforting to have Curt by my side, but I couldn't help feeling alone in my grief. I missed Mom so much, it was a physical ache in my chest.

As the day turned into night, I found myself unable to sleep. I got up from the couch and walked around the house, taking in all the memories that were scattered around. The family photos on the walls, the knickknacks we collected on our family vacations, and the smell of Mom's favorite candle that still lingered in the air.

This was going to be harder than I thought. Maybe harder than facing Spencer, but it was what I needed to heal. School could wait until my head was on straight.

Chapter 12

I sat there enduring each individual introduction, but I was distracted. Kate kept fidgeting with her hair, finger-combing it and tucking it around her ear. I forgot how sexy she was and it was distracting. Curt had told me she was doing her residency here--one of the reasons I snagged this job quickly when it came up. I'd been waiting ten years to have a very specific talk with her that never happened. It seemed pointless now, seeing her all grown up and confident. She wasn't the impressionable eighteen-year-old whose virginity I stole anymore.

"Thank you, Dr. Williams." Dr. Mathers cleared his throat and tapped the end of his pen on the table we sat around. The conference room felt small for a hospital setting; I'd seen much larger than this. But it felt too large for my comfort. Kate was only feet away, but I wanted her closer, much closer. I couldn't smell her the way I could that morning as I watched her eat toast, knowing she was leaving and I wouldn't see her for a while. Had I known exactly how long, I'd have said what I needed to say back then.

"Dr. Davis, you're next... Then finally, Dr. Richards." Jeff snickered like a child when Mathers said Kate's last name. I shook my head. Breaking his immature streak was going to be enjoyable, though I didn't relish the constant looks of annoyance like the one on Kate's face right now. I'd had enough of them in my day, so to see them there again because of some man-child frustrated me. I much preferred her smiling and happy.

"Yeah, so I'm Caleb. Guess you're going to call me Dr. Davis." I listened to Caleb go on about why he'd chosen oncology and what his specific specialty would be, but Kate twirled a strand of her caramel hair around her finger. Even the black, square-framed glasses she wore were sexy as hell. I found myself thinking of her looking up at me through them as I hovered over her, pinning her to my bed, and that thought was enough to force me to peel my eyes away from her.

It was dangerous, to think of her like that. Not because Curt would be upset. He'd gotten over that years ago. He'd had several talks with me about how he was concerned about her at times, how she needed to find someone to care for her, someone like me--serious, honest, driven. I didn't think for a second he actually meant me, just that he wanted to see his sister happy. And when he eloped instead of having a traditional wedding, I was disappointed that I never got the chance to dance with Kate and find out just how bad I messed up when we were kids. How angry she was with me.

No, Kate was dangerous for another reason. Because she was my game changer. She was the one who forced me to grow up and realize what I was doing to all the women I screwed around with. To face what I was doing with my life. I slept with a few women since then, but not like before. Not like I did in college. And not one of them since her had the same effect on me. It took two years to get her out of my head, the scent of her skin slathered in coconut sunscreen, the taste of her juices on my lips. The way she screamed when her body tore just from my dick sliding into her.

She was an instant addiction that I finally kicked, and now I was flirting with the devil.

"Thank you, Dr. Davis. Dr. Richards..." Mathers gestured and Kate cleared her throat.

"Uh, it's okay, I know her." I waved my hand. Listening to her voice right now would be torture. She was already in my head, in my pants making me swell.

"It's only fair that all of the students have the same opportunity, previous relationships or not." Mathers nodded at Kate. "Go on."

She sat straighter, nervous fingers folded together then straightening on the table in front of her. "Uh, I'm Dr. Richards." God the melodic sound of her voice curled around my eardrums and drizzled down into my soul, a symphony of memories singing a song I tried to forget so many times. "I graduated from Columbia University this spring finally after a haitus of three years."

So it was three years she was out of college. I did the calculations in my head quickly. That meant we lived only blocks from each other for at least a year as I finished my final semesters of medical school before heading to California to do my residency at Loma Linda. Curt never told me. I wondered if that was Kate's doing? If she told him not to speak a word of it. I wondered if she knew I was there too, just the other side of campus. If she had avoided me.

"I chose oncology and more specifically, a specialization in pediatric oncology, because my brother was diagnosed with bone cancer his senior year in high school, at seventeen. During his treatments I became fascinated with the process. I was only fourteen at the time, but I knew then that I wanted to help kids who had cancer have hope and recover."

I remembered the stories Curt told me, but I never knew that was Kate's motivation. I had wrongly assumed she chose that major because of her mother's breast cancer. I probably assumed a lot of things incorrectly. I never took time to get to know her when I lived with her. I was too stuck on myself, and my games. And it wasn't until she was gone that I got to know anything about her. Curt got sick of my questions, which was how I knew he was loosening up on the "off limits" rule he'd made. He told me to talk to her myself, but I never had the guts to call her.

"And when my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer I dropped out of college to care for her. I returned three years later, following her death." Kate's eyes met mine, a hint of pain there. I'd skipped Nancy's funeral because I was neck deep in finals and med school was ten times harder than my undergrad program. "I finished up, graduating magna cum laude, and Dana-Farber Brigham accepted me for my residency."

And there it was, the most perfect smile on the planet, complete with dimples. Only it was directed at Dr. Mathers, not me. What I wouldn't do to have it directed at me. The whole world could blow away in a hurricane but that smile would anchor me.

"Thank you, Dr. Richards," Mathers said and Man-child snickered again. "Dr. Mitchel, the students are all yours now. I will get out of your hair." He stood and tapped the table with a finger. "We will meet every Monday at seven a. m. here to recap the previous week. Outside of that, Dr. Mitchel will handle everything. Enjoy learning how reconstructive surgery goes hand in hand with treating your cancer patients."

I glanced at the clock on the wall as Dr. Mathers left the room. We'd been doing this all morning after I broke down the two-month rotation to them in detail. I knew everyone was hungry, and I hoped for a second to speak to Kate privately to set some expectations and boundaries for our interaction during work hours. I stood and cleared my throat, sliding a hand in my pocket to disguise the bulge that I hoped wasn't too obvious in the slacks.

"Alright, we've been sitting here for a long time. I think we can take a short break. It's two-twenty. Our first lecture will start at three in the lecture hall. You'll need your notebooks or tablets, however you take notes, and you'll need a recording device, but those should have been issued to you when you signed in this morning. If not, go see Director Salazar at the office downstairs; she'll get you hooked up." All of them watched me intently as I spoke, but the only set of eyes I wanted on me were Kate's. This entire rotation was going to be extremely challenging. Not only did I have to be fair and ethical, but I had to fight my desire, and the strange swell of emotion I had every time I looked at her. Hopefully that would fade after a while.

"Do not be late. I have a zero-tolerance policy. If you are late, you will be locked out of the hall and miss the lecture, and thus your performance in this internship will suffer because you will not have all the information you need." I looked straight at her, but she had her eyes on something else. "I'll see you in the lecture hall at three."

I waited, watching her, but as soon as I finished speaking she turned and said something to Dr. Williams, who giggled, and they walked out together. All I could do was watch her walk away, again.

Forty minutes later, I sat at the podium in the lecture hall. Five interns sat facing me. Kate was not one of them. The door was locked and I had my white board up with an image of a young boy who had a brain tumor and his skull had been misshapen and he needed surgery to repair it. I started talking, telling them about the young boy and how my reconstruction enabled him to have a normal life, and I heard a knock on the door.

I turned to see Kate there, smiling and waving. She had a recording device in her hand, and I knew she'd had to go see the director about it. It was too late.

"Dr. Mitchel, should I let her in?" Dr. Williams asked. It was kind of her to offer; I could tell Kate and Mackenzie were friends, but rules were rules.

"She knew the rule. She misses out this time." I turned away from the window and the smile that I wanted to memorize and seal away for my dreams tonight, and my heart clenched a little. I hated being a hardass to her. It would only make any animosity she held toward me worse, but I could not show favoritism. A student who could not be on time, did not deserve the honor of being a part of the internship.

Kate had to learn the hard way.

Chapter 13

As soon as the doors opened, I stormed in. The others exited, joking about something said during the lecture that I missed because Dr. Hardass decided to lock me out of the class. Even Mackenzie breezed past me, chatting with Emma and Ima. I was livid. Spencer looked up at me as I approached.

"What the hell, Spencer." I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

"That's Dr. Mitchel, and please show some respect."

"Why did you lock me out?" I tapped my foot, releasing some of my pent-up rage.

"You were late."

"I was ninety seconds late."

"Late is late." Spencer stuffed his pens and laptop into his bag and hung the strap over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, we are moving on to the observation portion of today's lesson. You can join us if you'd like." He moved past me, and I got a whiff of his cologne and god did it make me want to swoon so bad, but I was furious with him.

"I can't believe you are being so cruel. Why? Because we have history so you think you can be hard on me?" I followed behind him, but he didn't even so much as look at me.

"Part of being a good doctor is discipline and that includes managing your time, so I suggest you find a way to do that."

He walked away as calm as a cucumber and I was seething, but I understood his point. He was right. Any other professor or instructor would have said the same thing, so I couldn't fault him. He just didn't have to be such an ass about it. I followed after him licking my wounds. I needed to keep my head on straight because my focus was finishing the residency and starting my career--not Spencer Mitchel.

*

Parked in the front row where I would be less distracted, I still couldn't focus on class. After last week's episode, I hadn't been late once, but that hadn't gotten me a slot in surgery yet. I scribbled down everything Spencer said in my own special shorthand I'd developed. I also managed to scribble a few non-related things on a few pages of my notebook in an attempt to keep my eyes occupied when he told stories about surgeries he'd done that weren't directly related to things I needed to know for our tests.

He was the distraction. That was the problem. It wasn't the other interns moving around or chatting. It was Spencer himself. How on earth had he stayed in shape and not gained the customary fifteen pounds every other resident gained? He looked hotter now than he did ten years ago and all I could think about was how he bent me over that banister and used me like a rag doll sex toy. My body ached for days after that.

I bit my lip hard, not because I was feeling flirty. I did it to force myself to focus on the lecture as he talked about the surgery we would be viewing this afternoon. I just couldn't focus. He seemed to look at me quite a bit and every time he did my pulse raced a little. Why the hell it betrayed me, I didn't know, but I hated my body for getting aroused by him. He didn't deserve that, not after everything. He hadn't even had the decency to come to my mother's funeral. Curt said he had finals, but I was devastated. He could have at least come for Curt's sake.

"So we will go observe a reconstruction on a post-mastectomy patient." Spencer looked directly at me as he said that and I blanched.

The topic was a difficult one to discuss, and even after years of being exposed to talk about it, it still stung. Mom's death never got easier to deal with. It was always fresh in my mind. A child shouldn't have to bury their parent before certain milestones--their wedding, the birth of their children, life in general. Saying goodbye was too painful.

"Let's take a five-minute break and you can meet me back here to head up to surgery together." He clapped his hands once and turned toward his laptop to pack things up. The others got up and left, and I headed down to where he stood to speak with him.

"Uh... Spencer," I started, not sure how to discuss the sensitivity of what I was feeling. I'd had a particularly hard weekend after being shocked last week by Spencer reentering my life. I drank a little too much and cried a lot. I missed my Mom. She'd have known exactly what to tell me, but she was gone. And now, this surgery felt a bit overwhelming. I wanted to sit it out if possible.

He turned around and had a scowl on his face. "Dr. Richards, you are a bit too comfortable using my first name."

"Spencer, knock it off. Look, I don't think I can sit through the--"

"That's Dr. Mitchel, please. I've told you that." He clasped his hands in front of himself. I understood the line of professionality and that we were on the clock, but what I had to say I wasn't saying to a professor. I was saying it to a friend who knew my heart and my history.

Frustrated, I took a deep breath and tried again. "I just think maybe you could be a bit nicer at times. I'm trying to explain that because of what I went through with Mom, I--"

"If you can't treat me in a professional manner, using my title and last name as all the other interns do, I'm going to have to remove you from the rotation." He turned his back on me and it was a good thing.

I clenched my fists and my jaw, but stopped myself short of smacking him. I walked around his desk where I could see his face and there was space between us and I let him have it.

"You are a real piece of work, Spencer Mitchel. You have some nerve treating me like this. You know damn well what I went through with my mother and your heartless attitude is infuriating."

"Dr. Richards, your tone is very disrespectful." He stayed calm but I was anything but.

"Stop it. Just stop pretending you're better than me because you graduated and have a practice already. I'm so sick of you lording that over me. And I'll call you Spencer any time I want because in case you forgot, we have history that you don't have with the others."

His eyes flashed with something--lust maybe--and for a split second I thought he'd lighten up, but he took a deep breath and said, "Dr. Richards, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down. I can see that you are very upset and I'll chalk that up to your emotions about your mother. You chose oncology as a specialty because you want to help people, and that means exposing yourself to triggers at times. If you can't handle them, then you might need to rethink your specialty."

I scream-growled and stomped my foot. "You are an ass!"

His face contorted into a scowl and he sucked in a breath to say something, probably to go off on me finally, but Emma walked in whistling. He glanced at her then turned back to me. "This conversation is over. Grow up, Kate, or you're out."

Spencer casually picked up his things and headed for the door and all I could do was stand there fuming. My hands shook and I rubbed them, unable to calm down. I couldn't believe he was being so insensitive. Being professional was one thing, but this was ridiculous. I wanted to smack him.

"Everything okay?" Emma asked, tiptoeing up to me.

"Fine," I snapped. I instantly felt bad for being rude to her. It was Spencer who I was angry with. For whatever reason, he always brought out the worst in me and to this day he was still doing it.

"You don't seem fine?" She said it more as a question than a statement. "Look, you guys know each other right? Is it something personal?"

And that was just the thing. It wasn't something personal because he wouldn't let anything be personal. For one fucking second I wanted him to think of me with his heart, not his stupid code of ethics.

"Yeah, something like that. Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"No problem. I guess I'd be on edge walking into this surgery if my mom died of breast cancer." She put her arm around my shoulders as I rounded the end of the desk and headed for my seat to collect my things. At least someone understood what I was feeling. It was a small consolation but it mattered to me.

"Thanks, Emma, at least you have a heart." I shook my head.

We got our stuff and followed the group to the fifth floor where the surgery was well underway. The silver lining in the storm cloud that was Spencer Mitchel was that I was so pissed at him now, I completely forgot about my grief. I watched the surgery from the back row of the observation room, and I also watched Spencer being very chummy with Jeff--Spencer's younger clone. They got on too well because they were exactly alike. It was disgusting.

Still, no matter how angry I was with him he was still the sexiest man I'd ever met. I sat back with my attention torn between the surgery and the back of Spencer's head. I kept getting lost in memories of my hands being laced through those thick dark locks of hair as he buried his face between my thighs. He'd made me come so hard I almost fell over and then he did it again less than ten minutes later with his dick, and since then no other man could satisfy me. Not that I'd had many partners, only two, but both of them were nothing compared to Spencer.

But he was infuriating, and mean, and I wanted to punch him. So why couldn't I get that ache in my vagina every time I saw him to go away?

Chapter 14

As I stood at the podium, I surveyed my small audience of interns. The lecture hall was cramped and barely illuminated by what little light snuck in through the window behind me. All eyes stayed trained on me as I spoke passionately about the various ways plastic surgery could improve the quality of life for cancer patients.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kate, who had been distracted throughout my lecture. She looked nervous and kept wringing her hands together. The guilt over our shared history came flooding back to me like a wave, and I understood her uneasiness. I raised my voice in hopes of grabbing her attention but it seemed to have the opposite effect, making her sink deeper into her seat until she became nearly invisible from view.

I stood there, motionless, my mind whirring with thoughts. I felt the pressure of being back in Kate's life again, a situation that she couldn't control or easily get out of. I had seen the distress it had caused her during our surgery observation last week; I had witnessed it in her piercing gaze when she brought it up to me. And I had handled that wrong. The guilt of that interaction washed over me and I looked away from her so I could focus.

Finally, I concluded by announcing two interns who would be working with me for the week- Dr. Davis and Dr. Levy. While both looked happy about the opportunity, I knew this was Dr. Levy's second time being chosen; a cruel truth that reverberated in my mind--Kate would be angry.

Kate's face fell when she heard the announcement, and I could tell she was disappointed. However, she didn't act unprofessionally or make a scene, for which I was proud of her. Instead, she simply nodded and tried to hide her emotions. I'd seen her do that a million times too, though never with me. If she was upset with me she'd just have told me, so maybe my firmness with her was working and she was finally getting the point.

Still, I couldn't help but feel guilty as I watched her. Kate had been a good student, but our past relationship had complicated things between us. I knew that she probably felt like I was being too hard on her, but I couldn't show any favoritism or give her any special treatment. That was incredibly difficult given how much I wanted to take her home and fuck the living daylights out of her. Just seeing her smile sent my dick throbbing in my pants.

As the other interns congratulated Dr. Davis and Dr. Levy, Kate quietly gathered her things and left the lecture hall. I wanted to talk to her, to explain my decision and offer her some reassurance, but I knew that I had to keep things professional. I hoped that she'd understand and that we could move past this awkwardness soon.

"Dr. Mitchel, we are all having lunch in the cafeteria today. You are free to join us." Dr. Mathers had been sitting in on today's lecture. His invitation wasn't expected, but I didn't mind eating with the group. It was always good to get to know the people I worked with on a bit more personal level, and maybe it would give me a chance to feel Kate out. Other than the biting end of a snake, I'd not had any interaction with her.

"Uh, sure." I picked up my computer bag and slung it over my shoulder. "I was planning to eat cafeteria food anyway."

"Becky does a decent job with the budget they allow her," Mathers laughs, "but it's just hospital food no matter what way you look at it."

I joined the others as they headed down to the ground floor to the cafeteria. Kate was quiet, following a few paces behind everyone as I chatted with Dr. Mathers and Dr. Wright. Wright was far more interested in hearing stories of my best and worst patients, while Mathers gently coaxed him to ask questions of me that might lend to education. All I could think about was how to navigate my way into a conversation with Kate that could help dampen her hostility toward me while still remaining as professional as possible.

I glanced over my shoulder as we stood in line to order food. She was last, head sagging, hugging her bag to her chest. Dr. Williams stood backward in line, chatting with Kate but Kate didn't seem interested in the least. I turned back, waiting for my turn, and I couldn't help but feel like I needed to do something to break the tension between us. As I picked up my tray and moved down the line, I grabbed an extra cupcake and slid it on Kate's tray as I passed by her. She looked up at me with surprise, and for a moment, I could see a flicker of something in her eyes that wasn't anger.

"Thanks," she muttered, but it was clear that she was still reluctant to engage with me.

I took my tray and found a seat at a nearby table with Dr. Mathers and Wright, but my attention was still on Kate. She sat alone at the end of the table, poking at her food with her fork. I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for whatever I had done to make her so upset with me.

Even after all these years, Kate still found it hard to be around me. Time had not healed any of the hurt I'd caused. I hadn't meant to hurt her, but it was obvious she still carried that pain like a badge of honor.

As we started to eat, I decided to take a risk and strike up a conversation.

"Hey, Kate," I said, trying to sound casual. "How's everything going?"

Kate looked up at me, eyes narrowed. "Fine," she muttered.

I took a deep breath, trying to think of something else to say. "So, how do you like living in Boston?"

"It's fine," she repeated, her voice icy.

Dr. Williams offered a look of awkward sympathy, and I heard my voice and got sucked into a conversation with Dr. Davis.

"So, it's Spencer, right?" he asked, chewing loudly as he spoke. Kate's eyes popped up briefly but the vitriol in her gaze was clear as she ducked her head again.

"Yeah, Caleb..."

"So, you like boating? I am thinking of buying a boat this summer. The sailboats out on the harbor are always so tempting."

"I'm more of a land lover," I joked. Even when I wasn't looking directly at her I could sense her frustration with me.

"That's land lubber to ye sea fearing folks," Caleb laughed at his own joke and the mood lightened a bit. Dr. Williams chimed in on the pirate talk, and they started talking about strange accents. I focused on my food, though I glanced Kate's way every few seconds. She kept her head buried, chin to her chest as she ate mouse-sized bites.

"Oh, Dr. McSteamy..." I heard Heather's voice before I saw her coming. She approached from behind. "These must be your lucky students." Heather carried her tray, probably looking for a space to sit and to my relief, every seat at this table was full.

"Hi, Heather." I smiled politely at her, and caught the hatred in Kate's gaze as she looked up at me.

"So no Chicago style today?"

The others at the table fell quiet as I talked to Heather. She stood over my right shoulder, forcing me to turn that direction, which put Kate closer in my periphery. She glared at me the way she used to back in the day when I'd flirt with women. I had no intention of being flirtatious with Heather, but even the mildest interactions in a professional setting were deemed flirtatious.

"Not today. Today I get bricks and rubber." I nodded at the tray in her hand where her grilled cheese sandwich matched mine.

"Do I still get that rain check? You promised we'd hook up sometime." She winked at me and I heard Dr. Wright snicker. Mathers had his mouth full of food, not understanding today's lingo, so it went over his head. But Kate was done. She piled her napkin and silverware on her plate and stood, making sure to glare at me one last time before walking away.

"Sure, Heather," I said, watching Kate's back as she stormed off. I pulled my eyes away long enough to catch Heather's eye roll. "Let's shoot for next week. My treat."

She pursed her lips at me and shrugged. "If you have nothing better to do."

"Ouch..." Dr. Wright snickered as Heather turned her back and followed the direction Kate went. When I turned back to my food Jeff was still snickering and Caleb had a dumb grin on his face. The slang I thought had gone over Mathers's head hadn't.

"Will this be a problem, Dr. Mitchel?"

"Not a problem at all, sir." I smiled, assuring him. At least not for me.

If Kate didn't let it go, I could see it being a problem for her. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about that if she refused to be civil and talk.

Chapter 15

I walked into the lecture hall this afternoon with high hopes. I'd worked very hard this week to focus and do well, but the minute Spencer started his lecture and avoided eye contact with me, I knew it wasn't going to be a good day. Dr. Levy had gotten selected to participate in Spencer's surgeries and rounds two weeks in a row, and today was the day he'd announce the doctors who would go with him for all of next week. Everyone in this place had had a chance to go with him, so I fully expected it would be my turn this week.

I sat watching him, oscillating between frustration with the fact that he hadn't changed a bit, and my annoying attraction to him. Last week when we had lunch as a group--like Mathers suggested we do every Friday for team building--Spencer had made it a point to flirt with that nurse right in front of me. Emma told me later that when I left he made plans to hook up with her and I didn't even have words to express what I felt.

I stared down at my notebook with notes scribbled on it. Spencer flirting with other women shouldn't bother me at all. I knew it shouldn't. I should have been happy enough to ignore him, focus on my career and move on with my life, but after the therapy I went through following Mom's death, I knew why it did bother me.

I had feelings for him.

Strong ones.

Having sex with anyone was a powerfully emotional experience for me, but Spencer was different. Not only had he taken my virginity, but I had lived with him for a full year before that, learning his patterns, his likes and dislikes, the way he sang in the shower, horribly off tune. My shoulders tightened and I found myself gripping the pencil so tightly my fingers were turning white. I didn't' want to have feelings for him. I wanted to be free of him, move on, let go of this damn rage I had over the fact that I let him have the most sacred thing a woman could ever give a man and he spat in my face seconds later.

"Kate?"

I tensed and then slowly looked up at the front of the room. Spencer's eyebrows were high, his eyes locked on me. He looked like he expected something from me, like I'd been asked a question or something and he was waiting for a response. Only, I had been so lost in through that I couldn't answer him.

"What was the question?" My cheeks burned and no one spoke for a second. Then I heard Emma behind me whispering.

"He asked how long the healing time is for a breast augmentation patient and Jeff said three weeks. He asked your personal experience."

She was a saving grace, but the question stacked on my shoulders to answer was cruel, in my opinion. Spencer knew my mother died of breast cancer after a remission following her initial breast augmentation. I blinked back the tears that wanted to form, and cleared my throat.

"Every patient is different, though most recover in four to six weeks. In my mother's case she took seven weeks to feel back to normal." I spoke with a calm tone but my rapid blinking didn't escape anyone's eyes. It was like Spencer was testing me, putting me on the spot on purpose to make me screw up. I hated it.

"Thank you, Dr. Richards."

Hearing him use my title like that made me wonder how many times he'd had to call me before he used my first name in front of everyone. I sank into my chair like a scolded child and closed my notebook. The scribbles there only made me want to scribble more, dig the tip of my pen into the paper until it tore--the way my heart felt torn into shreds.

"Alright, it's time to announce this week's attendees." Spencer looked down at the podium behind which he stood, flipping papers until he found the one he was looking for. "It was a tough call this week, but Dr. Levy, unfortunately, you have to sit this one out."

Everyone but me chuckled. How could I find that funny? She had gotten chosen the past two weeks in a row. If I didn't know better, I'd have said the old Spencer was trying to get in her pants or something. But Ima wasn't like that. She didn't ride the stick; she'd flirted with me a few times which proved it. She had a partner and was quite content to focus on only the education she was getting.

"Dr. Williams, and Dr. Brown, congratulations, next week you will be with me as we work on a facial reconstruction of a thirty-year-old female diagnosed with cancer in her sinuses. This will be a fascinating one, because we get to reconstruct the sinus passages that were damaged and the bone structure of the skull. Of course, as always, you will be strictly perioperative, but you will learn a lot from the process."

My heart sank as he continued to detail the operation. I wasn't as much angry as I was really hurt now. Week one I had been late to that first lecture and locked out. That was my fault; I knew that. I blamed myself for not getting in. Week two, there was no reason for me to not get in. Week three, it was becoming more obvious to me that Spencer had some strange vendetta against me. Now, it was unbelievable, that he would single me out in a room full of professionals who knew he and I had a previous relationship.

I clenched my jaw and looked down. Emma lightly touched my shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"You have to admit that's not fair, Emma. Four weeks in a row? That's half this rotation and I haven't been selected once." My whispers went' undetected by Spencer, though Mackenzie glanced over her shoulder. Spencer had his back to the room, pointing out things on his whiteboard diagram of the human skull.

"Yeah, it doesn't seem right, but maybe he has his reasons." She shrugged and leaned forward. Her mouth was right by my ear.

"Yeah, his reason is I'm still angry with him for what happened ten years ago." I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone was hungry, as if she were about to hear something scandalous.

"Long story..." I didn't want anyone else to know my shame. It was bad enough that Spencer knew. As long as he hadn't told anyone else, I was the only other person in the world who knew. I didn't really see him being the bragging type--not about me--not with Curt still living in his house at the time.

"You should just talk to him." Emma patted my shoulder and sat back and I sighed. She was right. This couldn't continue. If he didn't' start letting me be a part of things I'd tell Mathers he was singling me out.

As soon as the lecture was over and he offered the class a fifteen-minute break I approached the podium. He stood reading over some papers and looked up at me as I approached. His face was stern as usual, no smile for me, only other pretty girls. So I remained stoic too, refusing to be soft around him. Being soft meant being weak, and if I got weak, I'd cry.

"Dr. Mitchel, may I have a moment."

He glanced at the others who were leaving the room. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

It took every ounce of emotional strength I had not to snap at him or break down crying. "I would like to know why you're singling me out. It has been three full weeks of this internship, and going into week four, you've not chosen me one time to participate in the surgeries with you."

I thought I did a fine job of controlling myself. He had lectured me enough about what title I used for him and how I spoke to him regarding my concerns. I tapped my foot while I waited and he looked back down at his papers.

"I'm not singling you out, Kate. I'm doing my job."

"How are you doing your job when you aren't letting all students participate equally?" It was a fair question to me. Without those valuable experiences, I'd never learn what the others were learning.

Spencer glowered and lifted his chin, staring at the empty seats. "Last week, you got two questions wrong. Dr. Davis had only one. This week, you got one question wrong, the others missed zero. When you're late to class, you prove you cannot be prompt for a surgery. When you are distracted in class--" his eyes turned toward mine "--you can be distracted in surgery."

He was right, and I couldn't even argue with him. I wanted to tell him what an asshole he was, how unfair. I wanted to lay into him about how he continually brings up my mother, forcing me to face emotions I buried a long time ago. But I held my tongue, and he continued.

"Emotions have no place in medicine. A doctor who cannot put away their emotions has clouded thinking. That's why it's illegal to treat people you are related to." His expression softened and for the first time, I realized he wasn't being an asshole at all. He really was doing his job. I really had been distracted by my emotions this whole time. Grief over my mother, feelings for Spencer I hadn't resolved. I hadn't been focused.

"Doctors need to examine facts and reality, push emotion aside, and make calculated decisions. Focus on that, and you'll get there."

The air was thick with electricity as our eyes met. I stood there for several seconds just looking into his eyes. I felt emotion welling up that I knew would explode if I even thought about letting it out. I licked my lips, trying to find the words. We'd left things in such a bad place, I didn't know where to start. His forehead relaxed, then his brows furrowed. I could see he wanted to say something too.

"Look, Spencer, I..."

"Kate, I wanted to..."

We spoke at the same time and then stopped. This wasn't the passionate attraction I had to him. It was something different. Something deeper. I pried my eyes away from him, looking down at my feet. "I wanted to say I'm sorry..." I mumbled, just as Jeff Wright burst in the door laughing loudly.

I looked up to see Spencer peering at Jeff. He turned back and asked, "What did you say? Sorry, I didn't hear you."

I shook my head. "Nothing. Thank you for explaining." I walked back to my seat frustrated with myself for saying anything. At least he hadn't heard me, and at least I knew where I stood.

Chapter 16

I sat across from Dr. Mathers while he looked over my reports. After four weeks of lectures and shadowing with the interns, it was time to review my work again. The two-week review had gone well and Mather's had spoken promisingly of a permanent position here, but given the tension between Kate and myself I didn't know how to feel. I'd have her in class for four more weeks, and short of quitting and going unemployed as I searched for a new position elsewhere, there wasn't much I could do about that.

It wasn't the prospect of her in class that bothered me, however. It was the lingering presence around the hospital day in and day out. Even after my rotation with her group was over, we'd see each other in the cafeteria at lunch, the break lounge before and after the day, and at times we'd bump into each other in the parking lot, much as we did daily as it was. Those moments were the difficult ones, when our attention wasn't directly focused on work or studies, and there was nothing in the world stopping me from lusting after her.

"Looks like these students are performing very well." He tapped his finger on the stack of papers and looked up at me with brows knit. "I see Dr. Richards hasn't shadowed you for any of your live surgeries. Do you care to explain this to me? Is your previous relationship with her causing issues? You never did tell me exactly what happened in the past."

My shoulders tensed as he spoke. There weren't any details of my past with Kate that I cared to divulge to him in this professional setting and if he forced me to, I'd likely be forced to resign my position as her rotation lead. For Kate's sake, as much as for mine, I deflected, hoping he wouldn't ask.

"Sir, she's the younger sibling of my best friend, so that's why I mentioned a previous knowledge of Ms. Richards. Now, if you will look at the first page again." I reached out and pointed to where I explained my process. "You'll see that everything I do is based on a point system. If students answer questions during the lecture correctly, they get a point. If they pass a test with more than ninety percent of the questions correct it's two points... etcetera. So you see--" I flipped to the comprehensive report detailing each student's points per week "--Kate missed out twice by scoring one point less than her peers. She was so close, but they scored higher. This is a completely fair system. There is no bias in the way I've selected those interns who would shadow me."

"He nodded and sighed. Of course, well it appears you're doing a fine job. They are all scoring so high, it's amazing. I think your system is ingenious, especially considering we seem to have top performers here. I think Dr. Richards deserves to have a slot in shadowing you, but you continue to do as you have been. She appears to be applying herself very well." He closed the folder that held reports and folded his hands on top of it.

"Thank you, sir. Is there anything else? I should get down to the lecture hall." I glanced at my watch. Still a few minutes before I needed to be there.

"Actually there is. Have you given any thought to coming on full time here? I know we mentioned it at your last review two weeks ago. I've spoken with the board, and they gave me the okay to offer you a permanent position with us at my discretion. Given how the past four weeks have gone, I believe you are the right man for this job." He waited patiently but my gut sank.

Kate was the only thing stopping me from taking this job, but it was a huge hurdle to even think about overcoming. It took everything in me not to break down around her and flirt or show favoritism. And the way she made me so damn aroused every time we were in the same room together was distracting. I knew that even once this rotation was over, I'd still feel that way. Every time I saw her I'd be distracted, and I had been lecturing her for weeks now about staying focused and not letting emotions interfere with her critical thinking skills.

"Dr. Mitchel?"

"Uh, yes, sir. I've given it a little thought, but my schedule has been very full with a few surgeries I've been tagged in on. And the rotation keeps me super swamped. Give me a few more weeks to really think it over. I love this place and the students, but I'm considering a few challenges I'd have to face." That was the most diplomatic answer I could give while under pressure.

"Of course, well in the meantime you can prepare for a second rotation with another round of interns. It starts in four weeks, as soon as this one finishes up. If that suits you, we can take it one rotation at a time until you have made your decision. I only ask that you give me four weeks of notice if you are planning to go elsewhere, so I can find a suitable replacement." He stood and reached out his hand and I matched his movements, shaking his hand.

"Yes, sir. I should get to class now. I'll keep that in mind." I let myself out of his office and headed toward the lecture hall. I hated being in this position.

I had known that Kate was here when I took the job. I knew I'd be forced to interact with her because Curt told me she was a student here. I hadn't realized that I'd be her teacher until the first day when I showed up and got the roster. Even then, I'd thought I could handle it. Now, though, I was feeling the stress of it. I wanted her--more than I wanted her ten years ago. I just couldn't have her now and I was kicking myself for making her feel rejected years ago.

"Dr. McSteamy..." The voice made me wish I could vanish, but I slowed and turned to see Heather standing there. She had a strand of hair twisted around her finger, and her scrubs dipped dangerously low in front. She had to have done it on purpose just to catch my eye.

"Heather..." I didn't have time for this. I wasn't about to show up late to my own class.

"Have you rethought that lunch with me?" She moved closer and smirked. I hadn't even thought about it once, let alone rethinking. I had no interest in her. Sure, on the first day I had been highly attracted to her, aroused by the idea of a fling even perhaps. But the moment I saw Kate again, any thought of any other woman was gone.

"We could have lunch as colleagues in the cafeteria here, Heather, but I'm afraid that's all I can offer." I took a step closer to my desJilltion and she followed, inching closer to me.

"You mean, you wouldn't even consider it? Not even a bit of temptation?" Her bottom lip pouted out and I bit my tongue.

My knee-jerk reaction would have been to flirt, say something smart or cutting that would leave her in a pussy-dripping puddle, but I was late and I hated being late.

"I really have to go, Heather. I'll see you later." I bolted, before my mouth could get me into trouble. I didn't even stop to look at her reaction, and it was a good thing. I stepped into the room as soon as the clock ticked over to one minute past. Everyone watched me walk up to the podium, but no one said a word.

"Good afternoon, folks," I said, trying to keep myself calm. I'd never in my life felt like running away from a woman instead of flirting with her and it was too telling. My heart was narking on me. In order to get my mind off what I was feeling--my personal frustration with my own behavior--I opened my tablet and navigated to the spreadsheet where I kept track of the students' performance. I hadn't taken time to tabulate the totals yet, so I set to work doing that quickly while I started small talk. "How was everyone's week? Any questions over our work?"

"Yeah," Dr. Wright said, "when will you teach us to pick up women?" He snickered and I found myself getting frustrated instantly. Not because I thought he was unprofessional or because he was immature and unfocused. It was because I knew how Kate would feel and I hated that I felt so damn weak about that.

"Any relevant questions?" I asked, as I totaled up each column. The group was quiet as I did my work, and when the numbers came up I was simultaneously pleased and anxious. Kate not only made the cut; she did so by scoring the highest points of any week this rotation so far. It meant all next week we would be in closer contact, more interaction, more chances for me to inadvertently fail as a professional. I took a deep breath to calm myself before I looked up.

"No questions? Alright, I will get down to business." Each of them sat upright in their chairs, ready to start learning but I had to rip this bandage off before I could even think of teaching them anything.

I hadn't even looked at them yet, and when I did I felt my body tensing and responding to the tug-of-war going on inside my thoughts. Kate was gorgeous today, hair done up, makeup on point. She looked just as expectant as the others, but the others didn't pull my heart strings. My chest swelled with emotion and I knew she'd be thrilled when I said her name, if only my dick would just realize it couldn't act this way. She was still my best friend's sister, and I was still her teacher.

"I'd like to start with this week's selection for shadowing next week. It was a tough call again this week. You all do such an amazing job and I'm proud of every one of you, but as you know I can only select two of you. This week, the doctors at the top are Dr. Brown, and Dr. Richards."

Her face lit up and all I could do was smile. It was a proud moment for me, but I knew it was nothing compared to what she must be feeling, especially after weeks of coming in last and feeling frustrated with me. The others congratulated her and she thanked them.

"Yes, well done, Dr. Richards, I'm very proud of you for working so hard." I had to restrain myself because eleven years of emotion started to rise to the surface and threatened to consume me. I hadn't even realized how strongly I felt for her until just this moment and it was overpowering. Next week was going to challenge me to my core.

Chapter 17

I woke up from a particularly frustrating dream--not because I was upset by it. I was so damn sexually frustrated and all I could do was think of Spencer Mitchel and the way he made my body rebel against what my mind told it to do. I dreamt some smutty, kinky sex between me and him and I hated my brain for stooping that low, especially after he hurt me so bad.

Lying in bed, I tried to push the thoughts away, but I found myself dozing. In and out of sleep, my brain relentlessly tormented me, feeding me images of Spencer's bronzed body as he begged me to sleep with him. When I finally awakened, I found my hand between my legs, fingers drenched with moisture. My panties were soaked along with my inner thighs. I'd had sex dreams before, but not like this. Not about him.

"God..." I groaned, turning over, but the ache was too great to ignore. I found my fingers wandering back to my clit against my better judgement and I liked it. My lips were engorged, swollen and tender. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the dream.

Spencer was shirtless, and his dick was rock hard in his pants. He held me against his body, grinding his cock into my thigh as he whispered how badly he wanted me. In my dream, it was the Spencer of today, not ten years ago. He had a man's body now, strong and cut. And I could almost hear the low rumbling baritone of his voice as he said my name.

I massaged myself until I realized I needed more. Just my fingers weren't going to get me off. So I slipped my panties off, wearing nothing but a t-shirt now, and reached into my nightstand drawer. I kept a dildo there, though it never saw much use. I was too busy focusing on school to care about sex much, but this morning I needed it. And god was it perfect as I slid it between my legs and pushed it into myself.

Spencer felt so much better than this; it was hard to forget that, but after the way that dream made me feel, I didn't need his massive girth to get off, just the memory of that dream and the way my body was already so worked up. I slowly pumped the toy in and out of my body, turning the vibration feature on. My fingers worked my clit too as I closed my eyes again.

"Mmmm," I moaned, arching my head back and thinking of him. His dick was so thick it tore me, and it was just because I was a virgin when he took me. He was really that large. That thought had me thrusting the toy faster, pushing against my back wall with a fervor.

And the way he ate me, feverishly sucking and nipping at my skin as he thrust his fingers into me. If he were here I'd beg him to do that again. But all I had was the dildo and my fingers. I whimpered, realizing this was all so horrible. I shouldn't be fantasizing over him, but it felt so amazing. No one turned me on the way he did, not once, not ever.

For a split second, I stopped thrusting the toy, just letting it vibrate against my sweet spot for a moment as I wrestled with what I was doing. But my body shuddered as I remembered part of my dream--his fingers pushing into me so thick I thought it was his entire fist. Unconsciously I started thrusting again, building toward orgasm, and before I knew it I was on the edge and Spencer was in my head, driving his cock into my body.

He was grunting, gripping my hips, and I was a mess of dripping cum and spasms. My body snapped, clenching down around that toy so hard I couldn't even thrust it anymore. My pussy gripped it and I convulsed, twitching and jerking on the bed harder than I had in years. I knew there was a mess, and I didn't care. I let the strong contractions continue until my body calmed, then left the damn toy dangling from my pussy as I dropped my arms and head to the bed and caught my breath.

When the rush of hormones had passed and the toy slid from my pussy onto the bed, I realized I had made a horrible mistake. Shame washed over me. I felt like I had betrayed my past self by letting myself even think about Spencer that way, but to act on it? To masturbate to images and thoughts of him in my head was unacceptable. I hated him. Didn't I?

I threw the blankets back and took the toy to the bathroom sink where I left it lay while I showered. The water washed way the evidence of my play time, but it did not wash away the shame I felt. I should have had more self control. I should have stopped myself from doing that, but the sensations in my body were too intense. I had no self-restraint, and now when I walked into the hospital Monday morning and saw his face, I felt like he'd know. Like somehow, something about who I was would give it away.

I dried off and dressed in some shorts and a t-shirt, slapped on my running shoes, grabbed my ear buds and phone, and hit the street. If I stayed in my apartment a moment longer I would have a mental breakdown, just punishing myself for thinking dirty thoughts about Spencer. The only thing that ever helped me clear my head was a good run. It was how I coped with my mother's death, and though I hadn't had much time for running lately, it felt good to be back at it.

My feet smacked the pavement, one step at a time until I felt better. Spencer was a very attractive man. Most of the women at the hospital would agree with me. There was no shame in envisioning a celebrity and touching myself, so why should I feel shame when I thought of Spencer? It wasn't reality. In reality, I could remember what a n asshole he'd been to me and be upset with him, except even that wasn't true. This entire week we didn't have one argument, and yesterday when I went with Dr. Brown to Spencer's office privately to discuss next week's work, Spencer had been civil with me. More than civil. He'd been friendly.

The idea that he wasn't a complete and utter jerk made me frustrated with myself again. That was why I'd dreamt of him. Because as I sat across from his desk, I took his cordiality for something more, the way he smiled, spoke kindly. He wasn't the stern monster demanding I use his title; he was kind and even cracked a few jokes. I was an idiot.

I pushed myself harder, running until my chest burned and my legs felt like jelly, but I kept going. When my vision dimmed a little I knew I was pushing myself too hard, but I was angry with myself. I let the feelings I had for Spencer out of the damn closet in my brain where I'd kept them away behind lock and key for a decade and I had no clue how to put them back. I couldn't let myself feel like that for him, not again. Not after what he did to me. After how bad my heart hurt.

I turned the corner and didn't even look up. My eyes were trained on my blue sneakers, each step pounding into the cement, when I slammed into something hard. I lost my balance but my inertia kept me moving forward, despite the tailspin. My head smacked against something solid and I fell, hitting the sidewalk. I blinked hard, but my vision went dark. My head hurt. My body hurt. I had no clue what was going on.

"Kate..."

Voices filtered in and out as I tried to pry my eyes open. I heard things, people. Someone very familiar was speaking.

"... female, age twenty-nine... Possible concussion..."

I lifted my arm, swiping at the air, but my eyes wouldn't open.

"Hold on, Kate..."

The last thing I remember was my body heaving, but no vomit came out.

Chapter 18

I waited by Kate's side, cradling her head on my lap and smoothing away the sweat that beaded on her forehead. She murmured a few things, but she was out of it. I had to move her away from the puddle of vomit, a sure sign she was concussed, and I felt awful.

"Look, Kate, I hear the sirens coming. I'm not sure if you can hear me, but I'm not leaving you, okay?"

There was no response, only a limp body draped over my knees. I checked her pulse and monitored her breathing. I didn't have a cuff to check her blood pressure, but her heartrate was fast. When I pried her eyes open, I saw two very dilated pupils, fixed and glossy. I shook my head, glancing a the time on my watch. It had taken the ambulance less than ten minutes, which to me seemed like record time.

The bus stopped and two paramedics climbed out. It took them a few minutes to get the gurney out, but the driver rushed to my side right away. Being a doctor, I had a bit better of a grasp on her condition than the paramedics would but until we were at the hospital, no one would even consider the fact that I knew what I was doing. Not without my hospital badge.

"Hey, sir, how long has she been out? What exactly happened?" The man knelt next to Kate and pressed his stethoscope to her chest, listening intently.

"Pulse is thready and rapid, one hundred seventeen beats per minute. She's been out about fourteen minutes. Pupils are fixed and dilated. She smacked her head on that lamp post pretty hard. She was running and came around the corner there and ran into me." I wriggled myself out from under her and laid her gently on the pavement, backing up to let them work. I without any tools of my own, I was helpless.

"So you don't know her?" he asked, as he pried her eyes open. I just told him what I saw.

"Actually I do know her." I stood and backed away as they brought the gurney around and stopped it next to her, locking the wheels.

The man looked up at me in curiosity. "Was she running from you? Is this a domestic--"

"Look idiot, just get her to the hospital. I'm a doctor, not an attacker."

The paramedics worked hard, getting her hoisted onto the gurney and strapped on. As they did the spoke quietly to each other. It was obvious I was upset, but I tried not to snap at them, even when I felt they were doing things wrong. Out here I had no authority over them--in the ER either ror that matter--but I wasn't letting Kate out of my sight. So when they told me I'd have to drive separate, I pulled rank.

"Look, I'm not leaving her alone. You can take it up with Dr. Baker at the hospital if you want, but I'm riding with her." I climbed into the back of the bus against their wishes, and rather than arguing with me, the two women in back simply did their jobs. I sat next to Kate, smoothing her hair and talking softly to her the entire ride, and when we got to the hospital, I followed her to the emergency exam room.

They hooked her up to monitors to check vitals and I waited to call Curt until I knew she was stable. I'd seen concussed patients before, and this looked pretty routine, though I was worried about how severe it was, but I wasn't her doctor. In fact the doctor hadn't been in yet when I dialed Curt's number.

"Yeah, Spencer. What's good, man?" I hated to burst his bubble of happiness, but I came as the bearer of bad news.

"Hey, Curt. Look, before I say anything, I just want you to know everything is okay."

"Uh, okay?" He sounded instantly worried.

"Kate took a spill. She's in the ER right now." I took a breath and continued. "She smacked her head pretty good. I'm with her. I'm not leaving her side."

"Woah, is she okay? Like what's happening?"

"They will order a cat scan I'm sure, and after that maybe an MRI if the scan is cloudy or anything. But I'm not leaving her side for a second, okay?" There was no real way for me to reassure him that everything would be fine, especially when I didn't know that everything would be fine. I hovered over her as I spoke to her brother, but my own heart was on my sleeve too.

"So what happens next? I mean is she in danger?" Curt's happy tone was gone, replaced with worry.

"Look, I've seen a hundred concussions. Most of the time nothing horrible happens. It's a vessel in the brain that burst upon a hit to the head that just bleeds a little. As long as the bleeding stops relatively quickly, she'll wakeup and have hardly any long-term side effects. Maybe headaches or migraines."

"And if it's bad?" he asked. I could hear him chewing his nail, a bad habit of his.

"Well, they keep her for monitoring. But I will be here. I'm not leaving her." Her eyes fluttered open for a second then shut, and I held her hand, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Yeah... okay." He paused for a moment, and then added, "You keep your hands off of her."

I knew it was a joke meant to lighten the mood, but it made me feel things I didn't want to feel. "Curt, you and Kate are like family anyway. So it would be like touching my sister." I forced a chuckle, and it took the wind out of my sails. For years I'd pushed thoughts of Kate away. She wanted nothing to do with me. It had been easy to forget her, to comply with Curt's wishes to not pursue her, because I thought she was too angry with me to even talk to me.

But after the past four weeks of working with her and interacting with her, things changed. I was stupid for pretending I could fight this. It wasn't just attraction either. There was really something there between us. I held her hand gingerly as Curt made another joke, but I knew I had to test the waters with him. Seeing her lying there on the hospital bed so vulnerable brought out a side of me I never knew existed--at least not for her. I needed to protect her, make sure she was okay.

"Look, you always said you wished we were real brothers. I mean if I marry your sister, we can be." I again forced a laugh feeling Curt out. I'd never come right out and tell him I was madly in love with his sister, not in a situation like this anyway, so this was the only way I had to see if he was still taking a hard stance against me dating her.

"Yeah, well just take care of her." His response surprised me. There was no biting remark, no guile in his words. "You keep me informed."

"I have to go, Curt, she's waking up." Without another word, I hung up on him, cradling Kate's cheek. I shoved the phone in my pocket and focused all my attention on her. "Hey, Kate, I'm here. It's okay." She might not remember any of this, but I wasn't leaving her side. Not in a million years.

Chapter 19

My head felt like I got hit with a baseball bat as I blinked my eyes open. I felt dizzy, nauseous even, and I was cold. The light hurt my eyes and I whimpered, covering my face with my hands, though I felt very uncoordinated. Something smelled strange, like men's cologne or a sandalwood candle. I didn't know where I was, but nothing felt familiar.

"Oh hey there," I heard a voice say, distinctly male in pitch. The baritone was soothing, warming me and making me nervous at the same time. I tried to sit up, but my head hurt too badly. "Woah, slow down." Strong hands gripped my shoulders and guided me back to a laying position and I blinked my eyes open to see Spencer staring down at me.

"What?" I was confused. "Where am I?"

"You're at my apartment. I'm sure you don't remember much about the past twelve hours. You'll probably forget this too." He sat on the table and grabbed my wrist, pressing two fingers to it. He was checking my pulse. Was I injured?

I let my eyes shut again as he checked my pulse and vaguely remembered someone kissing me--my forehead, more than once. Was that him? And what happened to give me such a bad headache?

"Why am I at your house?" The words came out so slurred even I knew they weren't right, but my brain seemed to be nonfunctional. It hurt to think, so I could only imagine what had actually happened.

"You ran into me while you were out on your run, lost your balance and smacked your head. I called the squad and they took you to the hospital. I stayed with you." I felt him position my head, turning it by gripping my jaw. "Open your eyes and look at me."

I strained hard, forcing my eyes open, and he shone a light into them. I instantly clamped them shut but he clicked his tongue. "Come on, Kate, I need to check your eyes. It's a head injury. You know this."

"But the light hurts," I whined.

His hand turned my face again, and his fingers pried my right eye open, then my left. When he was satisfied, he pocketed his flashlight and pushed the hair out of my face. It was odd being here with him like this, but given the circumstances, I was thankful he'd been there to take care of me rather than a complete stranger. Curt was my only family and he was hours away.

"So why your house? Why not my apartment?" I tried to push myself up again but he pressed my shoulders.

"You're bound to be too dizzy to sig upright. It's safer if you just lie down for now. And I can't leave you at your house alone. Someone needs to wake you every few hours to check on you."

Part of me felt comforted by the fact that he was here, but another part of me was upset that he thought he could control my life. He wasn't my father or brother, so who was he to give orders. He wasn't even my doctor either. I pushed myself to a sitting position and immediately regretted it. I felt top heavy, and lurched the other direction, but I caught myself and tried to steady my balance.

"I told you. Now please lie down."

"I want to go home. My neighbor can come check on me." I had met her only twice in the hallway and she was a nice enough woman. I knew where she lived too, so if anything came up missing, I knew where to look at least.

"I'm not sending you home and letting a stranger check up on you. I told Curt I was keeping an eye you and that's what I'm doing. You're staying here." Spencer stood and walked away and when he returned he had a book in hand. "Want me to read to you?" He sat next to me which shook the couch and I thought I'd puke on his carpet.

"No," I mumbled, suddenly feeling the urge to lie down again. Which I did. Unfortunately his lap was in the way and I found my head nestled in the crook of his hip. "So you're only taking care of me because you made my brother a promise?" The vitriol I'd felt for him for the past few weeks was hard to tamp down.

"Something like that." He laid the book on the coffee table and pulled a blanket across my body. "Alright, well there is no television, cell phones, loud noises, or light for that matter. Not for a few days. So I if you insist on staying awake, I can sing to you or tell you old college stories."

"I tried to laugh buy it hurt my head. "No singing, please," I groaned, realizing that meant he'd tell stories about his college days and I wasn't sure I wanted that either.

Before I could do an about face, he started his first story. "So, when you went home the house was quiet. Curt had totally different classes than me and our schedules conflicted so much that our regular parties sort of faded out."

I wasn't so sad to hear that, though Curt never really said much about that to me. He probably figured. I didn't want to hear since I always tried to break up the madness and get them to focus on their studies. Or maybe he knew I was really struggling with my emotions over Mom's sickness and didn't feel like it was appropriate to bring it up.

"Honestly, Kate, it just wasn't the same anyway. We had a few parties but there was no 'house mom' to break up the fun." He smoothed his hand over my hair and I nestled into his hip more closely. My head hurt so bad, the light touch was relaxing.

"And when the really challenging classes came up, I really buckled down. You'd be proud of me. I really cut back my drinking and joined a few study groups. I ended up leading them, so that was good."

I started to doze, his words weighing on me. Why did he have to wait until after I left to take his education seriously? I tried for months to make him listen to me and all he wanted to do was party, drink, and sleep around. Sadness started constricting my chest. My body tensed and I sighed hard.

"You should be sleeping, Kate. Let me help you get into something more comfortable and lie down in bed now."

I didn't want to lie down in his bed. I wanted to go home to my bed, but I knew he'd never let me do that, not until I was better. So I pushed myself to a sitting position and tried to stand, proving to him that I could go home. Dizziness overwhelmed and though, and Spencer was there with his arms around me again.

"I can do this," I told him, but he held me tighter, guiding me across the living room. My feet were heavy, my movements uncoordinated, but we made it to a very dimly lit bedroom. He seated me on the end of the bed and reached into a dresser to pull out a t-shirt and shorts, then turned back to me.

"Look, you can wear these." He held them out but when I reached for them I only swiped at the air. My vision was blurred. It made me feel nauseous again. I knew I could never change my clothes on my own, so I sat there feeling sorry for myself. The clothing I was wearing was dirty, soiled with my own sweat and maybe other body fluids. I did want the clothes, but it seemed an unattainable luxury.

"I can't," I said, defeated.

"You want me to help?" he asked, crouching in front of me.

My head hurt too bad to protest so I just nodded. Spencer gingerly pulled my shirt over my head with care. Our eyes met for a brief moment before I had to close my eyes from dizziness again. When he pulled me to my feet to help me slide my shorts off, my body pressed against his and I instinctively draped my arms around his chest. I swayed hard, losing my balance yet again, and he held me to himself. It wasn't' meant to be a seductive thing, but I found myself wanting him to kiss me His hands on my skin were comforting.

He pushed my shorts down and they slid to the ground, then he lowered me back to the foot of the bed. Too exhausted to sit up, I lay back and he slipped the shorts off my feet and put the new ones on. Part of me felt disappointed that he hadn't taken the opportunity to even comment on my body, but the rest of me was comforted by the fact that he was being a gentleman. When he had my shorts on and pulled up--with very little help on my part--he pulled me to a sitting position and tugged my shirt on.

I noticed the bulge in his pants and knew he'd been aroused by seeing me naked. I tried to sling a few words together that might make sense, but by the time my brain had a coherent thought arranged, it was too late. He had me lying in bed tucked in.

"Spencer, do you regret it?" I asked him suddenly wishing I had taken time to speak with him before leaving that day ten years ago.

He hovered over me, bringing the blanket up around my shoulders. "Sleep now, Kate. I'm here."

I reached for him, hooking my hand around his neck. I held him there, inches from my face for a moment. Concussed or not, being close to him like this made me feel safe. If only he could be civil with me when I wasn't injured. I wanted him to know how bad he hurt me, but that even still, after all this time and all the hurt, I still wanted him. I opened my mouth to speak, but he stopped me.

"I'm going to lay on the couch."

He gently took my arm and tucked it beneath the blanket again then rose up. I couldn't hold my eyes open anymore. I shut them, and felt sleep dragging me into its darkness. Then I felt lips on my forehead, lingering and gentle. But when I opened my eyes, he was gone. I didn't know if I imagined that or if he had kissed me before he left the room, but god did I want him to come back and do it again--or for real.

Chapter 20

I shouldn't have kissed her forehead, but she was in pain and I was weak. I stalked out to the living room and dropped to the couch. I knew the closer I let myself get to her--the more I let myself feel--the harder this would be sending her back home. I buried my face in my hands and internally scolded myself for having such strong feelings for her I wasn't taking care of her because I promised Curt. I was doing this because I cared about her--a lot.

I sat there for a good twenty minutes agonizing over how close she was to me and how badly I wanted to hold her, even if for no other reason than to feel her against my body. But I couldn't. I had four weeks left of rotation with her and I couldn't jeopardize either of our careers over this. Not to mention, I wasn't about to hit on her while she was injured. She would likely think I was taking advantage of her vulnerability. That was my fault--my past spoke for itself.

But the memory of that afternoon haunted me. Following her around at that party, driving her back to our house. The way she practically threw herself at me--God!--I had never wanted any woman so badly in my life. But the instant shame I felt for breaking the promise I made to Curt came out in a horrible way and there was no undoing that moment. Even the next morning, I hadn't been able to say what I really meant.

And then she was gone.

My nerves were fried. The past four weeks had proven to me that Kate was so much more to me than just some girl I screwed years ago. She was definitely the one that got away and I had the prime opportunity to correct that obvious failure now. But the same hindrance that stopped me back then was still there--my promise to Curt. And now it was worse. I was one of her supervisors for her internship and even well after she finished the rotation with me, anything we did together would be seen as suspect.

But she was so close, close enough to me that I actually kissed her forehead, and not in a brotherly way like Curt would want. No, that was the spillover from my inability to control myself and had she turned her lips upward I would have kissed those too. My chest tightened and my dick started to throb, further evidence of my need to be with her. It consumed me until I found myself gently touching, outside my pants, rubbing myself through the material.

I heard a noise and I startled, but it was just the neighbor coming home from work. If Kate woke up and came out here, and saw me touching myself, that would be bad. But this erection was not going to go away.

I stood and crept to the bathroom, hoping to make as little noise as possible. Inside, I locked the door and leaned against it for the moment. I had to tell myself this was only to make the hormones stop and the boner to go away, but I'd had it worse than this and pushed it away before. Kate drove me wild.

Without even thinking about it, I shoved my pants down and grabbed myself, gently stroking at first. If I stopped now, I could have a cold shower and that would be that, but the instant I imagined her bent over that banister, I was done. I stoked myself with my eyes closed, picturing her ass in the air. Her tight pussy felt so amazing, the best I'd ever had. And I saw the streak of blood across my dick as she tore, handing over the cherry on top of that ripe sundae.

I was there in the moment with her again, hearing her panting and gasping as I drove into her. In fact, I was there so quickly I could have shot my load into the toilet within seconds, but I enjoyed it too much. I brought myself to the edge and pictured the way her tits pressed against my bare chest, that damn string bikini draped over my toes. And when I dropped to my knees and tasted her, it was like eating stolen fruit. It was stolen fruit--stolen from the one woman on earth I was banned from having.

My cock was so hard I thought my skin would tear. The pressure built deep in my groin, my balls drawing up close to my body preparing for release, but I teased myself, stroking then pausing. I played at the edge, picturing her face if I took her in the ass, something I hadn't ever enjoyed with her, but my brain was too far gone now. Now, I was just fantasizing, the way I did for weeks after she left.

The way I did when I had other partners since then. It was always Kate.

Then I heard a noise again, her moaning, and I couldn't tell if it was her now, in pain, or if it was in my mind, a memory. But that's all it took. I lurched forward, leaning over the toilet. I barely got the lid up in time. I exploded like a rocket, grunting and doubling over as the best orgasm I'd had in months hit me. I went weak in the knees, leaning on the counter for support as the last of the cum dribbled from my cock. Then I spun around and sat down.

My body felt heavy, post-sex high weighing on every muscle. It made even my eyelids sink, pulling me toward sleep quickly. I cleaned up, wiping the head of my cock clean and washing my hands before slinking out of the bathroom. At the risk of another episode, I peeked my head into my bedroom and noticed Kate had tossed a little. Her leg hung over the edge of the bed.

I tiptoed over to her and lifted her leg, tucking it back beneath the covers, and she stirred again.

"Hey... what are you doing?" she asked, her words slurred a little. I couldn't tell if it was the concussion worsening or if it was due to being too sleepy.

"I'm helping you stay covered up."

"Go away," she mumbled, again it was slurred. I was concerned.

I reached to my night stand and picked up the penlight I had been using to check her pupils. When I tried to pry open her eyes she clenched them shut and grimaced, and I said, "Kate, please, let me do this." She scowled and I asked, "Do you know who I am?"

Her face relaxed and as I checked her eyes, she said, "Yeah, you're the guy who took my virginity."

If I hadn't just blown my load, I'd have gotten hard instantly. Her eyes fluttered open and I controlled my response so I could check her eyes. Her pupils were more reactive than they had been hours ago and it gave me confidence that the concussion wasn't as bad as I initially thought.

"Try to sleep again." I put the penlight down and she reached for me, taking my wrist.

She yawned and sighed, then let me go. "You can kiss me if you want."

She had no idea how badly I actually wanted to kiss her. I lingered for a moment, bent over the bed wrestling with my emotions. Her eyes fluttered shut, but I knew she wasn't sleeping yet. She might have forgotten that first kiss, but I knew if I kissed her now, she'd remember it. Still, I leaned down, pressing my lips to her forehead gently. It was just a kiss, nothing more, but it crossed the line. I crossed the line.

As soon as I pulled away, she turned over and hugged the wadded-up comforter to her chest, and I stepped back, feeling as guilty for that tiny peck as I had for taking her virginity. I had no self-control, no ability to stop myself from taking what I wanted. Not with Kate. And that had turned out horribly for both of us last time. What was I thinking?

I retreated to the couch where I set my alarm for two hours from now, but I never got to sleep. After I checked on her the first time and managed to keep myself from kissing her again, I slept for two hours. And two more after that, checking on her regularly to ensure she was improving and not getting worse. When the sun started to rise, I called the hospital to let them know what happened. I told them Kate needed another day to recover, and that we'd be in on Monday. Neither of us had dire responsibilities, so Mathers approved the time off. I was grateful.

And I was shocked when she woke up and wobbled out into the living room wearing only the t-shirt. The lace hem of her pink panties peeked out beneath the shirt as she stretched and yawned. I sat a bit straighter and tried to avert my eye, but I felt my dick swelling already and hated myself for it.

"Good morning," she mumbled, staggering over to the couch.

"Morning, how are you feeling?"

"My head hurts a little, but I'm okay. I don't feel sick anymore." She plopped down beside me and it felt way too close for comfort.

"I'm glad you're feeling better." I scooted back a little, giving her more space to move, and she rubbed her eyes, then angled her body to face me.

"What's for breakfast, coach?" The sideways grin on her face put me at ease. She didn't ask about the kiss--either of them--and I wasn't about to bring it up if she didn't. Now if I could only manage to make my cock deflate before she noticed the barge in my pants.