Page 110 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“You look hot. He’s going to die when he sees you,” Brooke says, checking her lipstick in the rear-view mirror.

I’m wearing what I planned last night. Denim shorts and a white ruffle top with my hair loose and wavy.

We get out, and I can hear deep voices and laughter. Brooke hands me my crutches, and we follow a path down to the water, where I see them on the wooden pier.

There are three guys. I spot Zac immediately. He’s sitting near the water’s edge, holding a fishing rod, wearing light jeans, a white t-shirt, and his feet bare. His hair is the messiest I’ve ever seen, like no products have been used. He looks happy and young.

He turns, and his face breaks into a smile that makes my knees weak. I have to concentrate on walking with the crutches so I don’t stumble.

“Hey,” he calls out, setting his rod down and walking toward us.

“Hey.” I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. Since the street yesterday, I haven’t stopped thinking about him. But being here now, actually allowed to see him again, without cameras, is everything.

He stops in front of me, close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with the fresh air and something woodsy. His eyes scan my face, like he’s checking that I’m real. Not checking for any injuries this time. Dr. Sterling isn’t here; it’s just Zac.

A swarm of flutters hits my stomach. No one has ever looked at me the way he does.

“You made it.”

“Told you I would.”

There’s a beat where we just look at each other, the air between us charged with everything we’re not saying.

A throat is cleared in the background, one of his friends, and it breaks our trance.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you.” He places his hand lightly on the small of my back, guiding me toward the group, and the touch sends a quiver all the way to my toes.

His friends are easy to like. There’s Emmett, tall and built. He starts joking with Brooke, asking if she’s ever caught a fish before. Then there’s Jameson, who’s quieter, and he shakes my hand politely. “So, you’re the one who’s been making Zac completely useless lately.”

Zac side-eyes him. “Shut up.”

“It’s true. You’ve been checking your phone every five seconds like a teenager.” Emmett laughs, and I notice Brooke’s eyes lingering on him.

“I have not,” Zac protests, but his ears are red.

“Yes, you have,” they both say in unison.

I’m trying not to smile too wide, but I’m failing. He’s checking his phone... for me.

They’ve set up the pier, and they each have a folding chair, along with a cooler for drinks, I assume. It’s relaxed and perfect. Emmett hands me and Brooke beers from the cooler.

“Do you fish?” Emmett asks me.

“Never.”

“Well, you’re about to learn.” Zac’s already grabbing a spare rod, checking the line. “Come here.”

I walk over to him, and he positions himself behind me, his chest against my back as he places the rod in my hands. His arms come around me, adjusting my grip, and I can barely focus on what he’s saying because his breath is hot against my ear.

“Okay, so you’re going to hold it like this,” he murmurs, his hands covering mine. “And when you cast, you’re going to pull back. Yeah, like that. And then release forward.”

“Got it,” I whisper, but I’m not thinking about fishing at all. I’m thinking about how solid he feels behind me, how his fingers are warm over mine, how I could just stay here forever.

“Try it.”

I cast, and the line goes flying out over the water, landing with a soft plop.

“Perfect,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.