Chapter 12 #2
The familiarity, the lack of formality now that we were in her kitchen, threw me. I stumbled over my reply.
“Better. Yeah, much better. Thanks.”
She simply nodded and gestured to the island. On the counter was a glass of water, and a plate holding what looked like a perfectly toasted bagel.
“Sit. You need to eat.”
I swallowed. I was, apparently, still taking orders. Of course I fucking was. I walked over and sat on the stool, feeling an internal flutter I had come to get used to around her.
“Dr. Carter, I should really—”
She cut me off with a raised, glacial eyebrow. “Not until I’ve had a proper look at that concussion, darling. Now, eat your breakfast.”
Darling. Fuck me, I was not used to those butterflies.
I sat as instructed, because of course I did. The bagel looked incredible—not like a basic one thrown in a toaster with a bit of butter, but it looked like some bagel you’d spend a fortune on in some posh cafe.
She didn’t look at me as she stood and walked over to the coffee machine, her now empty mug in hand. “Would you like a coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I answered honestly; I could do with the caffeine.
She nodded and grabbed another mug as I took my first bite. The bagel was packed with some fancy meat and cheeses and a sauce that was a bit tangy but delicious. “Fuck me,” I couldn't help but say as I chewed. This was fucking delicious.
As I swallowed, I noticed her posture stiffen, and I tried not to laugh as I apologised. “Sorry, but this tastes amazing.”
She just hummed in acknowledgment and cracked her neck as she pressed some buttons on the coffee machine. I was surprised she was not scolding me for swearing in her presence, but maybe it was a loophole because I technically wasn't talking to her.
As I continued to eat and she filled the mugs with coffee that smelled incredible right then, I couldn’t help but watch her.
Fuck, those trousers fitted her like a glove.
I didn’t know what sort of exercise this woman did, but she looked like she could toss me over her shoulder like I weighed nothing.
I kind of wanted to refuse to get out of her car again just so she would.
She turned, and I quickly looked down at the last of my bagel like a caught teenager drooling over their teacher. She slid the mug over to me. “Milk or sugar?”
“Black is fine, thanks.” It was ‘fine’; I would have preferred milk and sugar, but I felt like the bitter taste of a black coffee might make me a little more on guard that morning, if that was fucking possible around her.
She moved to sit back at her laptop, and I finished the bagel, sipping the piping hot coffee as I did. This was so fucking weird. I felt like I should try and make small talk, but that would probably make things weirder, so I didn't say anything.
I pulled out my phone with a twinge of guilt as I read my Mum’s message:
Mum: Your Dad got some work today, love, he has to leave soon so we will do pancakes tomorrow?
Fuck. I couldn’t believe I had basically ditched my parents and my birthday tradition. It wasn't exactly my fault, but I still felt like a dick. I quickly replied:
Alex: Sorry, I was hoping to be home on time. Tomorrow sounds perfect!
Mum instantly hearted my message, and I put my phone back in my pocket.
After finishing the last of my bagel, I tentatively prodded the side of my head. It was tender, still a little swollen, but was definitely healing, and thank fuck I didn’t feel dizzy anymore.
Dr. Carter stood and moved beside me. “Can I check your head?” she asked softly.
"Go for it." I groaned as I pulled my own hand away.
Her fingers were delicate as they parted my hair to examine the cut.
I had to grip my coffee mug to not shiver.
Fuck, everything she did was commanding in a way, like every movement of a strand of hair she did on purpose.
Clearly she did, because I didn't think the woman had any possibility of losing control.
She hummed in approval. “Healing nicely. How do you feel?”
She stood back and leaned on the kitchen island to look at me, and I caught her gaze as I smiled. “Not like death, so that's a bonus.”
She smirked. “No headache?”
I assessed myself, and yeah, there was a tinge of a headache but nothing like the day before. I shrugged. “A little bit, but not dizzy, so I’ll take it.”
She nodded. “You shouldn't be alone, ideally until tomorrow morning. A concussion is not something to take lightly, Alex.”
I shrugged. “I won't be alone; I’ll go home and then I’ll spend the night with Mia.”
I sipped my coffee as I deliberately averted her gaze.
She leaned closer to me, and it took everything I had not to look at her. She said directly, her voice dropping to a low, non-negotiable register, “You are not working tonight."
For fuck’s sake. I really didn’t want to have this argument with her. She wasn't my mother, or anyone else in my life who could just tell me what to do. Okay, fine. Maybe I let her tell me to do a lot of things, but who fucking wouldn’t—look at the woman!
I took a sip of my coffee, sat a little straighter, and finally looked at her. Fuck me, she was a bit close. “I need the money, I can't just skip my shift; they'll drown tonight without me.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “The last thing you need is to be in a bar with blaring music and strobe lights. You are not going to work.”
I rolled my eyes. “You literally can't stop me.”
She didn't flinch at my challenge. Instead, a dangerous, slow smile spread across her face, the kind that promised pain but made my stomach clench with anticipation. It was different to the smile I had seen the day before, but fucking hell, she looked like she was about to tie me to the kitchen island. Meh, I’d probably let her.
“You’re cute,” she said simply as she pushed herself off the counter and walked back to her laptop.
The blush that ran up my neck caught me completely off guard. I didn’t fucking blush. That wasn’t a ‘your face is cute’; no, that was a ‘you’re cute that you think that’. Fuck, she was probably right.
But, like a tantrum toddler, I left the kitchen and headed back up to the guest bedroom.
I shoved everything in my bag, but I wasn't a heathen, so I quickly made the bed as best as I could and folded the pyjamas she had given me the previous night.
Then I stormed back down the stairs and to the front door, ready to fucking walk home.
Oh shit. She was a fucking psycho. I couldn't unlock the door without a key, and there were no fucking keys around. The ones she had put in a bowl on the table by the door were gone. Fuck my life.
I heard her step towards the hallway; even without heels on, her steps sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to her, visibly annoyed, as she leaned on the doorframe to the kitchen.
“Going somewhere?” she smirked.
“You’re a psychopath,” I groaned as I dropped my bag.
She smirked deeper, amused. "You are welcome to leave, I’ll even drive you home… if I can talk to your parents and make sure someone is keeping an eye on you whilst you… stay home from work.”
Just to be extra dramatic, I threw my hands in the air as I scoffed and leaned my head against the wall. What was I supposed to do?
Then my eyes widened. Because I had never heard that sound before.
Keeping my forehead against the wall, I opened my eyes and looked at her.
My heart gave a shocking lurch as I watched her cover her mouth.
She was laughing. Actually laughing. Fuck, it was the best sound I had heard in a long time.
It was lighter than her voice but still had a tinge of huskiness that made my stomach twist. I couldn’t help but smile and shake my head as I stood straighter and chewed my cheek as I sighed, “Guess I’m staying here then. ”
She turned on her heel back into the kitchen without saying anything, but looking like she wanted to give herself a moment because she looked like a woman who hadn't laughed in a while, and the fact that my dramatics made her laugh made me a little warmer inside. Fucking hell, stop being all gooey.
I walked back into the kitchen and slumped back onto the chair I was in and leaned on my hand, looking at her. She was more composed then as she started closing down her laptop. “I’ll stay until my shift, but then I really do need to go to work.”
She closed her laptop with a slam and looked at me. “I’ll pay you double the amount your wages would have been tonight if you don’t go.”
Pardon? You fucking what?
I just stared at her. She raised an eyebrow imperiously at me, as if to say, ‘deal?’.
My mouth went instantly dry, and I rubbed the side of my head.
I knew I shouldn't go to work, but I couldn’t accept her fucking handout either.
I rolled my eyes, deciding the last day had been fucking weird enough, so I might as well lean into it.
“Well, I've never had a woman offer to pay me for my company before.”
She scoffed as she stood, moving to place her laptop in its sheath. She zipped it, then turned to me. “Do we have an agreement, darling?”
Okay, yeah, fuck yeah. The look she was giving me shouldn't stay, but I was so fucking turned on that I needed a cold shower.
What sort of thing had I done in life that led me to be here?
Held captive by this woman who looked like a supervillain but was so soft that she combed my hair before she told me goodnight? I was fucking screwed.
I gave her my best smirk. “Deal.”