“You don’t always have to come to me.I mean… I don’t know if there will be other times, not that I don’t want to, but I’m not trying to…”
Jamie reaches across the table; his hand brushes mine.“Relax, Doctor.”
“I’ll try.”
He slowly pulls his hand back, but mine stays still on the table.
“I don’t mind coming here; I’m usually around this area anyway.Besides, you live nearby, so it’s more convenient for work and everything.”
“I don’t always work these shifts.I also have days off now and then.”
“I hope so for you.”
“Are you ready to order?”The waiter appears at our table.
“Could you give us a few minutes?We haven’t had a chance to look at the menu yet,” Jamie replies.
“Sure, no problem.”
“In the meantime, could you bring us two glasses of red?Is that okay with you?”he asks me.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Coming right up,” the waiter responds before disappearing.
“So, Doctor.Tell me something about yourself.”
“About me?You basically already know everything.”
“I want to know something that nobody else knows.”
“Why?”
“I’m just curious.”
“I see.”
“And I want to know as much as possible about you.”
“So you want to know who you’re dealing with?Find out my weaknesses?”
He looks intensely into my eyes, as if he can read everything running through my mind right now.I’m not sure he’d be happy to know what’s there.
“I’ll find out for myself.All of it.”
It doesn’t sound like a threat, but it’s frightening all the same.
Chapter23
Jamie
When they bring the wine, I’m absurdly grateful for the distraction — and for something to take the edge off before my nerves completely take over.It’s getting harder to keep my composure around him; I’m burning through every reserve I’ve got just to stop myself from saying or doing something catastrophically stupid.
I’m having dinner with the Doctor.The man I’ve obsessed over for months is sitting across from me, and my secret fantasy is unfolding in real time.He’s right there, close enough to touch, and all I can think about is how he’d look in my fucking bed.
The Doctor still isn’t completely letting go.For all his awkward sincerity, there’s a lingering hesitation in him, a carefulness he won’t quite drop.I have no idea if I’ll be able to slow down once he finally puts his foot on the accelerator.
He takes a few sips of wine, sets his glass on the table, clears his throat, and speaks again.
