Chapter 5
Five
Riley
“Where are we going?” I ask, slowly trailing him past the living room and into the kitchen.
“I’m taking you to my guest room.” His bottom lip curls and he reaches under the kitchen island.
My mouth falls open when he pushes on the countertop of the island and it slides forward.
Enjoying my shell-shocked reaction a little too much, he opens a small door that acts as part of the bottom of the island and walks down a flight of creaky stairs.
“Come on,” he says, looking back at me, pausing halfway when he notices I haven’t moved yet.
“Why are you showing me the room I’ll be sleeping in when it’s not even afternoon yet.”
He chuckles. It’s both pleasant and unsettling. I can’t explain it. Nothing makes sense with this man and I’m more curious than I am afraid. He could be planning to chop me up into tiny pieces, and here I am working hard to stop myself from running ahead of him to see where he’s taking me.
“I’m glad you know the difference between day and night but I’m not taking you down here to sleep. Not yet. In order to make sure you’re completely healthy, I have to do a full exam first.”
“Like I would get during a physical?”
“Precisely.” His smile is so clinical now and so is the way he reaches his hand out to me. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”
“Okay.” My stomach can’t decide if it wants to lurch or do a dance as I allow him to lead me to a dark basement. It mirrors the living room, almost, with the same couches and TV, just missing the windows and connecting kitchen. Two doors line the back wall, three feet apart.
“This way, Mr. . . .”
“Banks.” I make up a last name on the fly.
His eyes flicker. “We’ll be doing the exam in this room, Mr. Banks.” Twisting the knob, he pushes the door open and guides me inside first. My heart thuds when he closes the door and points toward an exam table. The room is very sterile looking, with a set of cabinets sitting in the corner.
“You want me on the table?”
Smiling, he tilts his head. “For this part, yes.”
Keeping my eyes on him, I climb onto the table and as I’m about to lie back, he shakes his head. “I want you sitting, for now. I’m going to start by getting your blood pressure and temperature.”
“Okay.” I clench my teeth, wiggling my ass against the noisy paper bunching up underneath me.
Pulling a key from his pocket, he opens one of the cabinets and walks toward me with a blood-pressure cuff and stethoscope.
He was serious about giving me a physical.
We really are going to play doctor for a whole week.
Why does he need to pretend when he does this for a living? Doesn’t he get enough of a fix at work?
His eyes hold onto mine as he strokes the pulse point inside my wrist. “Your pulse is strong.” Gaze moving to his watch, his lips twitch.
When he looks at me again, he slides his fingers up my arm, tracing over one of my veins.
His eyes light up like sparkling glass as he strokes up and down. “Healthy veins too.”
“Is this something surgeons do? Give . . . exams?” I suck in a breath when he rolls up the rest of my sleeve, touching more of me but also not enough.
“Not exactly, which is why I now work in the ER.” He slides the cuff up my arm and tightens it once it’s in the right place. “I’m much happier there.”
His face grows serious again when he places the ear tips in his ear and warms up the chest piece with his breath.
Warm, and not as soft as his fingers, the metal glides up my arm, stopping once it’s halfway under the cuff.
We’re both quiet as he takes my blood pressure and temperature.
At the sound of a loud beep, he removes the bulb from my mouth.
His eyes squint and he frowns, holding the thermometer closer to the light.
“Not getting a proper reading. We’ll have to try again in a little while. ”
“What does it say?”
“It’s a little lower than normal and I think it’s because we were out in the cold too long. Like I said, we’ll take it again later.”
After sanitizing everything with wipes, he puts it all back in the cabinet, shoves something in his pocket, and returns with a tongue depressor and small flashlight.
“I’m going to check your tongue and ears next.
Can you stick your tongue out for me please?
Say ahhh.” I do as he says and he presses down on my tongue, shining a light in my mouth.
I gag a little and he pulls away, tossing the depressor in the trash while pocketing the flashlight.
“You’re doing really well. We’ll be finished for the day in no time if you keep this up. ”
My heart flutters at the proud look in his eyes. There’s a desire hidden there too, that nearly takes my breath away. A want I’m eager to fill without knowing what it is because it’s me he chose to get it from. It’s me he wants to take care of. It’s me who feels like his favorite patient right now.
What the hell is happening to me? Does this man have me under some spell, or is it because for the first time, I’m getting everything from him I said I’d never let myself need from another person?
Removing a tool from his jacket, he checks my ears and then nose. Then with a half-smile, he walks back to the cabinet and hands me a paper gown. “Change into this and I’ll be back in five to finish the exam.”
My stomach swirls as I clutch the gown, and he helps me down from the table. “What are we doing next?”
“Finishing the physical. Nothing can go unchecked if we want to do this the right way, can it?”
“I . . . guess not.” I twist at the gown, tearing off a corner of the sleeve.
“I’d hate to miss anything and then regret it later. When was the last time you’ve been to see a doctor?”
I stare down at the floor and back at him, my words caught in my throat.
“That’s what I thought.” He pats my shoulder, only one side of his lips tilting. “Take off everything. Underwear too.”
My heart jumps into my throat and I take a step back. “Is that necessary?”
“It is if we want to make sure you’re fully healthy everywhere. You’re the one who booked this appointment, remember? Said it’s important for that new job you’re starting? You won’t be able to start until everything on their list is checked off.”
“Oh. Yeah, okay,” I say, playing along.
“Terrific. See you in a bit then.”
I can feel my heart pounding in my ears as I strip my clothes to the floor.
This is all part of it. I said I’d be a good patient, and this is all part of it.
One week. It’s an exam, that’s all. A physical.
How the hell am I supposed to know what they do when I can’t remember the last time I stepped into a doctor’s office of any kind.
Luckily, I never got sick enough to need to.
Only a few colds and a stomach virus or food poisoning.
I wasn’t going to a hospital unless I was on the brink of death so maybe it’s good that we have this arrangement.
My lower back has been hurting when I sit down too long, and my stomach cramps up with certain foods.
Should I tell him that? I feel like I have to.
He’s my doctor and I need to be honest if I want .
. . Wait, what am I saying? Have I confused fantasy with reality?
Fantasy me doesn’t have to worry about bills or being locked up.
There are no boyfriend issues or backstabbing friends in this office.
A knock at the door has me dropping the gown on the floor. “Okay for me to come in?”
“Not yet. Sorry, I’m moving a little slower than usual. I guess I’m still a little weak from yesterday.”
“Do you need help undressing?”
“I . . . Maybe.” Do I? My hands shake as I pick up the gown, head a little light when I rise back up too quickly.
My body is a better actor than I am, going right into helpless mode, and my brain slowly catches up because it’s easier when all of me is on the same page.
I have to do this no matter what, so why not use it to my advantage and allow someone to do the heavy lifting for a while.
“I have to hear a yes or no, Mr. Banks.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?” He says, pressing on the door.
“Yes, please. Will you please help me, doctor?” The words come out easier than expected, almost as if my mouth has been holding them back for a long time.
“I’ll be right in then.” Entering the room, he pulls a pair of gloves from the white coat he didn’t have on before. It looks good on him. Why wouldn’t it? Everything else has. I’d hate to see what I look like right now. One good thing about this room is that it has zero mirrors.
Blue rubber stretches over his fingers, smacking his skin, and he closes in on me. He takes the gown from my hands, shoving it in one of his large pockets. “Have a seat again. You’ll feel better once you do. You really shouldn’t be on your feet too much for the next few days.”
Without arguing, I sit down. I would have argued if anyone else had told me what they thought I needed before this. He’s my doctor though. It’s different. Everyone should listen to the person in charge of their health.
Back on the table, I’m steadier, and my feet don’t ache as much.
My muscles haven’t stopped screaming at me since yesterday, and the soreness only increased when I woke up, but I blocked most of it out when we reached the house.
My nerves took precedence earlier, and my only focus was how my first appointment would go.
As Sam slowly peels off each piece of my clothing, sparks dance along the skin his soft fingers come in contact with.
He keeps going until he reaches my underwear, pausing with his fingers on the waistband. “Still good?”
I nod and he smiles, peeling back the elastic. Lowering himself to the ground, his warm breaths sweep over the thin cotton. I shudder. With his mouth mere inches away from my growing erection, he says, “You able to lift your hips for me?”