I blow out a breath, more nervous than I’ve ever been to be in a doctor’s office. My hands are shaking when I pull off my shirt. I hurry up and put on the gown and then sit on the exam table. It’s cold in here, so I rub my hands over my arms, fighting the chills. I press my knees together and then squeeze them with my hands, trying my best not to think about the reason I’m here. I sweat when I’m nervous. I don’t want to be sweaty.
I feel my chest tighten, and then my throat becomes itchy and I start to cough. I cough so hard, I have to stand up and walk over to the sink to balance myself. There’s a knock on the door in the middle of one of my coughing fits, and I turn around to find the nurse peeking her head in.
“You okay?”
I nod, still coughing. She walks over to the sink and takes a cup and then fills it with water. But I don’t need more liquid in my throat right now. I take the cup and thank her, but I wait until my coughing subsides before I take a sip. She leaves the room again. I walk back over to the exam table, and as soon as I sit, there’s another knock at the door.
This is it.
The door begins to open and my heart starts to pound so hard; I’m relieved no one is checking my blood pressure at the moment. He flips my chart open before he looks up. He pauses as soon as he opens it, probably because he’s shocked to see my name on the chart.
I knew he’d be surprised. Hell, I’m surprised I worked up the courage to come here.
Jake immediately lifts his head and looks at me. I realize there are probably much better ways to reach out to him, but I feel like my undeniable attraction should be just as dramatic as my denial of him was. I still feel a little guilty for how we left things a few days ago. But since he walked out my front door, I’ve done nothing but mope, because the time we spent together was so good. Fun. Easy. I haven’t stopped thinking about him. Especially his parting words.
“I was just making you breakfast. I wasn’t proposing.”
I’ve flip-flopped all week about this. Sure, he was just making me breakfast. But when a good-looking doctor cooks you breakfast, that breakfast turns into lunch and then dinner and then breakfast again, and then trips together on the weekends and then grocery shopping together, and then all that eventually turns into being the emergency contact at the hospital.
So yeah, he was just cooking me breakfast. But because of how much I like him, that’s not where it would have ended. And the idea of him feeling forced to care for me makes me sad to think about.
But on the other hand, I can’t stop thinking about him. And when I think about him, I get this empty pit in my stomach that distracts me and makes everything I want out of life seem to pale in comparison to the thought of spending time with him. But the idea of setting ourselves up for emotional investment just makes me sad since I know it won’t end well. So what do I do? What choice do I make? Avoid him and be sad? Or embrace him and be sad?
Either way, I’ll be sad.
So…here I am. Faking a need to see a cardiologist just so I can let him know I overreacted. And also to let him know that bungee jumping alone just sounds boring.
I can see the surprise on Jake’s face, but he holds it in well. He glances at my chart again. “According to this, you’re here because you’re experiencing excessive heart palpitations.”
I can see the grin he stifles before looking back at me.
I nod. “Something like that.”
Jake’s eyes scan me from head to toe for a moment, and then he sets the chart on the counter and pulls his stethoscope to his ears. He straddles the stool and sits, rolling toward me.
“Let’s take a listen.”
Oh, God. I’m not really having heart palpitations. He knows it was just an excuse to show up here. Now he’s about to listen to my heart just to be an ass because he knows I’m nervous right now. And it’s going to be beating stupid fast because he’s even better looking today with his white coat and stethoscope, straddling a rolling chair. If he actually listens to my heartbeat right now, he might call for a defibrillator.
He rolls his chair right up to the exam table. Right up to me. We’re eye to eye now as he lifts the stethoscope and places it over my heart. He closes his eyes and lowers his head as if he’s actually concentrating on my heartbeats.
I close mine because I have to calm down. Him listening to my heartbeat is making me completely transparent. I keep my eyes closed, even when he pulls the stethoscope away from me. There’s a quiet pause, and then in a low voice, he says, “What are you doing here, Maggie?”