Dr. Attending (Midtown Memorial #4)

25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Weston

W hen I was trying to decide if I could return to Midtown Memorial, I reached out to the department leaders to see if they would waive my call requirement until after Carter’s first birthday. While it isn’t the norm to ask for an accommodation like that, I wanted to ensure we had our routine down first. Fortunately, they were more than willing to work with me and gave me all the time I needed to figure out a solution.

After a ton of logistical chess and thinking through options, the best choice was to have my parents watch him. Since my dad retired last year, they’ve slowed down a little. And while they are still ridiculously social and active in the community, they were thrilled to take their grandson for the few weeks a year that I had to take call.

I was slightly worried that a toddler on the verge of walking any day might prove too much for them, but given the barrage of pictures I’ve received this week from “ Camp Ma Pa ,” I’d say the three of them are doing just fine.

And so am I.

Do I miss my son? Yes, of course I do. But I’m also loving getting to have this uninterrupted time with Caroline.

We have one more free evening together before I have to go pick up Carter from my parent’s house, and I told my senior resident to leave me the hell alone. When I left my office, the service looked significantly better than it did last night, so I’m choosing to believe that nothing urgent will come up. And if it does, well, that’s how they’ll learn.

I open my phone to shoot Caroline a quick text as I slide into my car.

Heading home.

If you’re still in my office when I get back, there are going to be consequences.

When I picked Caroline up from her apartment almost a week ago, I did it for two reasons.

Obviously, I wanted to see her again since she left pretty early the morning after we hooked up. But I was also worried that was pushing herself too hard.

Sometimes, as high achievers, we have a tendency to think that it’s unnecessary to have anyone in our corner because we’re capable of succeeding on our own. But just because you can do something yourself, doesn’t mean you should have to.

And I want Caroline to know that.

I’ve been keeping her company every chance I’ve had this week, making sure she takes breaks while she studies in my home office. Given the way she moans and groans each time I interrupt, I expect to find an empty house each time I come back from the hospital.

But I haven’t.

And that tells me everything I need to know about what’s happening between us—it’s real for her too, even if she won’t admit it.

My phone pings as I’m closing my car door, and I can’t help the way I grin when I read her response.

Consequences sound hot.

It doesn’t surprise me that she took our conversation somewhere sexual. I’ve tried more than once this week to bring up the topic of our relationship—what we are, where this is going—but every time I do, she shuts me down and changes the subject. It’s almost like physical touch is her safety net, the place she retreats to when words feel too heavy or vulnerable.

And I get it.

I spent the majority of my life playing the part of the happy-go-lucky golden retriever who was just around to have a good time without any strings attached. I buried my emotions under layers of charm, sex, and meaningless flings because it was easier than confronting how I was genuinely feeling—alone.

But Caroline isn’t alone. She has me . . . in whatever capacity she wants me.

I might have had initial hesitations about going down this road with her, but after this week, I feel nothing but confident in my decision to pursue her. Despite our age difference, she understands my life in a way that most people don't—my family dynamics, my career, my past. And I understand hers.

Every day that I have to leave for the hospital, I feel this ache in my chest. Like it’s uncomfortable to have to leave the person who has very quickly formed a chokehold on my thoughts, hopes, and fears. The person who has somehow become an extension of me.

I’ve been telling myself that I’m content with only her company for the time being. The last thing I want to do right now is add more stress to her plate when she’s carrying so much already. But deep down, I can’t deny that I’m ready for more—that I’m ready for her to be mine.

I type out a response to her message before turning on the ignition and pulling out of my assigned parking spot.

Bratting doesn’t look good on you, princess.

It’s a filthy lie because bratty Caroline makes all of the blood in my body rush to my groin, and, apparently, she remembers that because a text bounces back when I’m sitting at the stop light outside of the hospital.

That’s not what your kink quiz said.

What are you?

25% brat tamer?

I laugh as I send her a quick reply.

If you aren’t careful, you’ll get the 10% of me that’s a sadist.

I’m not surprised that Caroline remembers the specific results of the kink quiz we took together last night.

The website that Worth built is different from most of the other quizzes available online. Instead of broad generalizations, it analyzes your responses to over a hundred unique scenarios and provides your final report as a pie chart. In a way, it reminds me of those genetic kits which test your DNA, only instead of receiving your ancestry breakdown, it gives your kink breakdown.

It was interesting that fifty-five percent of me was a pleasure dominant. But once I remembered how turned on I got from doing the things that Caroline clearly enjoyed, like being rough and commanding, it made a ton of sense—giving her pleasure gives me pleasure. Which is exactly what I intend to explore with her tonight.

My mind starts churning through ideas when a text comes through that almost sends me into cardiac arrest.

Spank me, Daddy.

I have no idea how long I spend trying to decide if I’ve actually died and ascended to heaven, but the car horn sounding behind me to get my attention finally pulls me out of my stupor.

This is definitely real life, and it’s only going to get better.

***

“ Y ou know what I was thinking about?” Caroline asks, peering up at me from behind my hand-carved executive desk.

I didn’t bother searching for her when I walked through my front door. I knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t listen to my empty threats. But she will after what I have planned for tonight.

I let out a soft chuckle as I eye the current state of my office. “Something you shouldn’t be, considering it’s nine in the evening.”

It looks like a tornado came through the room, with multiple cans of energy drinks crushed on the desk and papers stacked on the floor. And yet, the woman behind the chaos couldn’t look more beautiful. Her straight, dark hair falls midway down her chest, cascading across one of my white button-down shirts. And if I had to guess, based on what she’s chosen to wear to bed this week, she doesn’t have anything on beneath it.

Caroline shoots me an unamused glare as I sink into the leather armchair across from her.

“No,” she replies, closing her laptop like I asked her to do hours ago.

She looks so goddamn sexy when she gets all serious like this, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to let her finish her thought, because all I can think about is how I feel like I’m at the principal’s office, and I’m about to be a very bad boy.

There’s that role play kink . . .

“I was thinking about how you haven’t tried to have sex with me.”

I have to pause for a second because I can’t tell where she’s going with this, and I don’t want to respond the wrong way. Her tone is abnormally timid, but her expression is schooled into indifference, like she’s reciting something from a medical textbook.

I decide to take her approach and reply with the facts.

“No, I haven’t.”

Caroline cocks her head to the side, studying me for a moment. “Have you not been tempted?”

I’m not sure if she’s talking about temptation this past week or from the moment she came back into my life. Either way, my answer is the same.

“Every second of every day.”

It was one thing to control my blatant lust for her from afar, but sleeping beside her this week has been borderline torturous. Not only is she the first woman that I’ve let stay in my bed overnight, but she’s also the first one that I haven’t tried to make a move on.

It’s like I’m hyper-aware of going too far with her. Of pushing her away. Of asking for too much. Because Caroline Winters is the prize of my life in a game where I’m holding the winning hand. But if I play my cards at the wrong time, I’m going to lose her.

She purses her perfect lips in thought. “That sounds frustrating.”

A pained laugh escapes me because that’s certainly one way of describing it. “Yep.”

Caroline’s midnight-blue eyes widen as they drop to the bulge in my scrubs that I’m not even bothering to hide. A playful grin sweeps across her face. “Looks pretty frustrating, too.”

All I can do is grunt in confirmation and try to focus on something other than the fact that I can definitely see her nipples beneath the thin cotton of my dress shirt.

After what feels like a solid minute of blankly staring at the black bookshelves that line my office while I visualize the steps of hepatectomy, I hear Caroline ask, “So why, then?”

I puff out my cheeks and release a long breath as I meet her gaze. “Why what?”

“Why haven’t you tried?”

I run my fingers through my hair, buying time to think through what I want to say. I was hoping that we wouldn’t have to have this conversation until she was willing to have an honest discussion about her feelings.But after a week of uninterrupted time together, I can still tell that she isn’t there yet.

And I want her to know that’s okay.

“Come here, princess,” I say, gesturing for her to join me.

She looks at me like I have two heads. “Now?”

“Not to have sex,” I chuckle, realizing that I should have clarified. “I just want to hold you while I give you the answer to your question.”

“Fine.” She huffs as she moves to stand from her chair. “But if you’re about to tell me that you haven’t fucked me because you have syphilis or something, just know that I will make sure you never fuck anything ever again.”

I smile and shake my head as she walks over.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I got tested when I came back to Atlanta . . . and well, you know everything that’s happened since.”

She brings up a good point, though—we should have had that conversation before we did anything together. Our hookups have been the most reckless thing I’ve done since having my son, and they’re just another reason why I need to maintain this boundary between us. Not because I don’t trust her, but because I don’t trust myself with her.

Caroline pauses in front of me and leans against the lip of my desk, crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t either . . . have anything to worry about with me.”

“Good to know,” I respond, unable to hold back the amusement in my tone.

There are a million things I have to worry about when it comes to Caroline Winters, and none of them are related to sexually transmitted diseases. “You going to come sit on my lap? Or am I going to have to make you?”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I remember that I don’t need to ask because I already know her preference.

Worth and I were texting about his quiz since it’s in beta testing, and he wanted to know how we liked it. I told him it was great, but it would be cool if he could compare two users, kind of like a dating profile for kink. He was so excited about the idea that he didn’t suspect my ulterior motive—getting her results.

“You—” Caroline parts her lips, but I don’t wait for her to complete her thought before I lunge forward.

I wrap one arm around her waist and another behind her knees, falling back into my chair as I cradle her to my chest.

“Wes,” she chides as she adjusts herself on my thigh. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

I almost say something incredibly inappropriate, but I hold myself back. I want to make sure we have this conversation first.

“Oops.” I shrug, forcing myself to change the subject away from her finishing. “So . . . you want to know why I haven’t tried to have sex with you?”

Caroline hums in affirmation, wrapping her arm around me affectionately. “Kind of. Especially now that I’ve ruled out two of the possible reasons.”

I squeeze her leg right above her knee. “This isn’t a test question, princess. But if it was, the fact that I’m not tempted, or that I’m hiding something from you, would definitely be the wrong answers.”

Caroline rolls her eyes but shifts slightly closer to me, her fingers toying with the back of my neck.

“I mean, I figured,” she says, thinning her lips to fight the grin threatening to break through. “But I had to use the process of elimination. You know, just in case.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

My voice sounds light, but the rest of my body feels heavier than ever as a surge of emotion runs through me. I know I need to explain the entire situation for everything to make sense, but I also know that it’s going to hurt like hell when I do.

Caroline must sense my hesitation because her thumb starts drawing circles along my spine, silently calming me while she waits for me to start.

“So when Carter was born,” I say once I swallow down my guilt. “It was obviously traumatic . . . I felt more helpless than I ever had in my life. And when I finally had a moment to process everything, I knew I couldn’t handle going through something like that again. So I promised myself that I would only risk it for one person. The right person.”

I let out a humorless laugh and glance down at my hand wrapped possessively around her thigh, taking a moment to ground myself in her touch before I continue.

“It sounds ridiculous to say out loud because I’m fully aware that there are other ways to prevent pregnancy. But the only method that’s one hundred percent effective is abstinence, so that’s what I chose.”

Caroline shifts in my lap, her brows furrowing slightly, but she doesn’t say anything. Her thumb never stops moving on my neck, though, like she’s telling me that she’s still here with me.

“Listen.”

I meet her gaze because I’m about to drop a bomb that I know she’s not prepared for, but I can’t stop myself from lighting the fuse.

“Coming home to you this week made me realize that you’re that person. You’re my person. And I know it’s selfish as hell to ask you to give me a chance because you have so much on your plate right now, but this is me asking. Give me a chance, princess.”

Caroline shakes her head slowly as if she’s willing me to take back my words, but the faint pressure of her fingers tightening against my neck tells a different story.

It tells me that she’s considering it.

I’ve teased her, danced around my feelings, and joked about my intentions again and again. But there’s no way that she can take this as anything other than a raw admission of desire—a delineation between what we are, and what I know we can be.

Her shimmering-blue eyes betray the battle waging within her, the push and pull between fear and something deeper. Her lips finally part, and for a moment, I hold my breath.

“I . . . I just don’t . . .” She looks away, like she’s searching for words that refuse to come.

“I know, Caroline,” I coo, even though it feels like my heart is shattering into a million pieces. “I know.”

My throat tightens, but I keep my voice steady. “You don’t have to explain. You have your entire career ahead of you. I understand.”

“That’s not . . . I’m not.”

Her voice is a barely audible whisper, and suddenly I wish I had just kept my idiot mouth shut because the last thing I wanted to do was put her in this position. She’s twenty-three years old. She’s at the starting line of everything she’s ever wanted. Being with me would only weigh her down, keep her from chasing those dreams.

When her eyes meet mine again, and they’re glassy with emotion. “I just need time.”

I force a smile because it could be worse. She could do what I would’ve done at her age—bolt in the opposite direction and never look back.

“I’ll leave the porch light on.”

I didn’t tell Caroline my story because I expected her to feel guilty about holding back with me. Or because I wanted to push her into something she wasn’t ready for. I told her because she deserves to know the truth—I’ll be ready whenever she is. And until then, I’ll be waiting.

“Promise?” she asks, her voice nearly a whisper.

“Promise.”

I press a soft kiss to her forehead and scoop her off my lap, setting her gently on her feet in front of me.“And until then . . .”

Her brow furrows as I reach out and trail my fingertips along the outside of her legs. I’m barely grazing her skin as I move higher, but it’s enough to make her breath hitch.

“We’re going to keep doing what we’ve been doing.” My lips twitch into a devious grin as my fingers inch the hem of her shirt higher, finally allowing myself to do what I’ve wanted to all night. “And you’re going to learn that there are consequences for bratting.”