Page 72 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“You won’t.”

“I got you your green tea with honey and some breakfast.” Karyn gestures to the small table where a steaming cup and a covered plate wait. “Bagel with cream cheese.”

“Thanks.” I pick it up with a grateful sigh. They’re too kind. “I really needed this.”

“We know,” Jaina says.

“I’m going to read through my lines.”

The energy in the room shifts. Karyn exchanges a look with the other girls before turning back to me, her expression careful. “Dain’s been extra demanding lately, so it’d be a good idea to nail it today.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say. “Let me read, and then I expect a full debrief over lunch.”

“Sure thing.” Mia’s face brightens, her fingers already working through my hair.

“You got it,” Karyn says with a squeeze of my shoulder before moving away.

I’ve finished with hair and makeup, confident with my lines, so now I’m getting dressed in front of the trailer’s mirror.

I reach for the unusual shirt dress hanging on the rack that has a gray blazer fabric at the bottom and a blue-and-white-striped collared shirt at the top. I slip it on, and I’m surprised by how well it fits, how nice it is. The structured hem gives me an almost editorial look, while the striped top keeps it softer.

I slip a slingback pump onto my good foot, straightening and giving myself a once-over as the excitement to be back at my job takes over.

Fear swept through me a few times, both when I found myself in the hospital, staring at the ceiling and wondering if this was it, if my career was over before it really began. I shake the thoughts away and roll my shoulders back. I’m here. I deserve this. I’ll go out there, do my job, and ignore the scooter waiting for me like a bad reminder of my limitations.

I push open the door with my shoulder, and someone pulls it the rest of the way. I freeze.

Zac’s here.

My heart does a little jump. He’s dressed in a more relaxed fit, but he still looks put together, wearing jeans, a navy t-shirt, blue button-up, and a brown jacket with brown boots.

What time is it?

I glance at the clock mounted on the trailer wall; seven forty-five a.m.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi.” The word comes out a little high because I’m ridiculously happy to see him. And from the way his piercing eyes are tracking over my face, lingering on my mouth before meeting my gaze again, the corners crinkling slightly, he seems to feel the same.

I wasn’t nervous before, but something about Zac being here, and watching me today, makes my stomach knot with anticipation. I need to channel this energy; use it to show him my work. He’s shown me how incredible he is at his job, and I need to do the same. Prove I’m not just the accident-prone reality star.

“You didn’t have to come until later,” I say, letting him know that I personally don’t expect him to do long hours. “But it’ll be nice for you to see me do something other than fall.”

His lips tip up in that almost-smile that makes my chest warm. Then he leans in close enough that I can smell his freshly sprayed cologne. “Damn, I was hoping to catch you again.”

Heat blooms from my chest to my neck and up to my cheeks. I remember what it felt like when he didn’t hold back. Later, I mouth, fighting my own smile.

“Do you need to re-read your lines?” Karyn asks from behind me, in a way that clearly says, do I need to give you two a minute?

I tear my gaze away from Zac’s. “No, I’m good. Ready to work.”

Mia has her hands clasped in front of her chest, smiling while Jaina beams at me, practically bouncing on her feet. Even Zac has a softer expression. No one would be able to tell, but I’ve been around him enough lately to read the subtle shift in his features, the relaxation around his eyes, the way his shoulders aren’t quite so tight.

A loud bang rattles the trailer, making bottles on the counter clink together. My heart lurches. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s Dain.

The door swings open and, sure enough, there he stands. Hands on his hips, filling the doorway like he owns it. He’s wearing his usual expensive jeans, a fitted back t-shirt, and a production vest covered in pockets. His eyes drop over me, assessing every detail of my appearance with the critical eye of someone looking for flaws. “You ready?”

So, I must look okay?