“I like to read,” he says, a little embarrassed.“Books.”
“You don’t say…”
“Fiction.”
“Mmm…”
“Romance novels.”
I really wasn’t expecting this.
“Don’t mess with me.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“They’re relaxing.They help you escape and stop thinking about your day or what happened.It’s like taking a gentle journey into someone else’s life, and when you reach the end and close the book, you’re left with a sense of peace and happiness, even if it’s not your own.”
I look at him, amused.
“Please don’t use it against me at the next O’Connor family dinner.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“And don’t let it get away with Evan either, or he won’t even let me sit in the same car with him anymore.”
“You don’t have to be ashamed.”
“I’m not ashamed, but it’s better not to let certain people know that you’re sensitive.”
“A doctor who reads romance.”
“There, I knew it,” he says, shaking his head.“You’re messing with me already.”
“That’s not true.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Well… maybe just a little.”
“I knew I’d pay for this.Stupid me for falling for your dirty little game.”
Ah, Doctor.I’d gladly show you every dirty little game I’d like to play with you — though I’m not sure you could handle them.
He must see it in my gaze, because the Doctor only sighs and props his head on one hand, watching me.
“That was an unfortunate choice of words, wouldn’t you agree?”
I laugh.
“I feel hopeless.”
“We all feel hopeless in our own eyes.The important thing is to find someone who sees beyond that.”
“You’re very wise for someone so young.”
“Not that young.”
“How old are you?Twenty-six, twenty-seven…?”
