Page 42 of The Goalie in Room 1

“Cash…life burned you. Badly. Life has a way of using up the talented, beautiful people of this world and leaving them alone. Empty and broken, with nowhere to turn. It plays out in the headlines. In reels, stories, and magazines. We see it day after day. If I can be the wall and Halo House the moat to keep the monsters at bay, I will do it. I will pay any price to stand between those the world targets with cruelty so that the talented, beautiful individuals who cross our threshold have the time and space to fight the battles they need to fight. But even then they will go to war rejuvenated, knowing they are not alone.”

“I don’t want to be alone or empty or broken anymore,” I whispered, burying my head in my hands to hide the tears spilling down my cheeks.

Phoenix’s chair scraped against the patio stones beneath us. Then a throat cleared and a voice, not the soft lyrical sound of Phoenix’s but the low rumble that drew me like a magnet, said, “Then take my hand, close your eyes, and leap. I will catch you, Cash. I will catch you.”

I turned my head in my hands, and Thad came into view. His sexy, beautiful, tear-stained face filled my field of vision, blocking out the world. “How…how do we make this work?”

“What specifically are you asking to make work?” Thad asked.

“We’ve kissed, which is fine if you’re my patron, apparently. You, Phoenix, Aaron, and Maxie all told me these relationships are voluntary and patrons don’t own angels. Fine. I want you. You want me. Fabulous. But you’re not just offering to be my patron.”

“No. I’m offering to be your doctor.”

“Right.” I took a deep breath. “If I agree to this surgery and—holy fuck do I want to agree—then you’re also going to be my doctor… So, tell me, Doc… How the fuck is that supposed to work? How do we navigate wanting each other, you paying for my surgery, and being my doctor?”

“The patron and doctor can coexist without issue. We’ve done it previously. It’s the attraction we both feel that’s the problem. If we do this…I’m your doctor first. I have to be. Anything else will need to be pushed away.”

“Pushed away?” I asked.

Thad’s eyes raked over my face, and the hand that had landed on my knee when he sat in the chair Phoenix had vacated squeezed, fingers biting into my quad. With a deep inhale, he said, “It means what happened in Davina’s office can’t happen again. I shouldn’t have let it happen the first time.”

“You didn’t let anything happen. I went after what I wanted. And I want you, Doc.”

“You’re right, Cash. You did. But so did I. I kissed you back. I participated. And as your doctor, I’m responsible for making sure it doesn’t happen again while you’re my patient. No matter how much I might want you under me, I will not pursue the attraction I feel for you.”

“And we can’t⁠—”

“This isn’t an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, Cash. It’s real life. So, no. If you choose me as your doctor, I won’t compromise your care to get you in my bed.”

“And if I don’t choose you as my doctor?”

Thad’s face twisted in a multitude of ways—some comical, some pissed the hell off, a few even seemed hopeful—but he said, “Then I’ll help you find the most qualified surgeon available who I trust to do your surgery.”

I opened my mouth, but he held up his hand, stopping me. “Before you ask, Halo House, meaning me, still pays for your treatment from beginning to end.”

“And if I don’t choose you as my patron?”

“You can test me all you want, kid. Nothing changes. If you want the surgery, I operate and Halo House pays.”

“And by Halo House you mean you?”

“Yes.”

I sat with that for a few moments, then asked, “What happens if you tell me to do something, and I say no?”

“What do you mean?”

“Anything. Surgery, rehab, something you want me to do recovery-wise, but I tell you no.”

“At the end of the day, you’re an adult. If you make medically poor decisions, then I’ll definitely have shit to say. Probably extremely loudly. Scratch that. It will definitely be extremely loud. Ask some of my former patients.” His spewed words might have started exasperated, but they ended on a laugh.

“But if I tell you no…?” I trailed off, looking out over the garden because no way could this heavily landscaped space with the fancy-ass pool be considered a backyard.

“Cash? Did you have a question?”

I nodded. Then nodded again. Then, once more before I asked, “If I tell you no, you don’t pull the money?”

“No.”