“Oh…I actually have plans on Monday night. I need to get home and get ready.”
“Plans?”
She blushes and bows her head until she’s looking at her toes.
“I have a date.”
A date?
Of course she does. The fact that you’ve been quietly observing her for the last three years means nothing. She’s young, she’s beautiful. Of course she’s going out on dates.
“I can cancel…”
“Do you want to cancel?” I ask.
A glaze of confusion mars her face as her brows scrunch. I’ve intentionally left my question vague but I wonder what she’s inferring the meaning behind it is. I don’t want her to go on a date. But I’m certainly not going to take her out on one. Mia is the kind of woman who deserves the world. She’s hard-working, genuine, passionate about her job and her studies. She deserves someone to give their all and take care of her in the way she takes care of everyone else. I’m not the man for that. Despite what she says about Daddy vibes, I have nothing else to give. Everything I have, I give to my patients, except for the one night a month I relax with my friends. I won’t give someone the life that my mother had, miserable and alone.
“I…no. I’ve wanted to go to this restaurant for ages.”
I hum an approval, my thumbs rubbing over her shoulders that I’ve yet to remove my hands from. “Good, you should do the things you want, Miss Sinclair.” My voice sounds hoarse and gravelly as I watch the slow bob of her throat, the tip of her tongue running along her lower lip.
“I’ll see you on Monday then?” she whispers, tilting her chin up.
I let go of her shoulders, step back and give her a small nod. Lana, the pink-haired friend, leans in the doorway to her bedroom and raises an eyebrow at my proximity to Mia.
“Enjoy your weekend, Miss Sinclair.”
“You too, Dr. Adams.”
I step outside the door, ignoring the prying eye of Mia’s roommate, and pull out my phone.
Lottie answers on the first ring. “Lottie, what are you doing Monday night?”
Chapter Four
Mia
Ismooth my hands down the tight plum leather skirt that sits halfway up my thigh. I’d paired it with a creamy white sweater that's tucked into the waistband, contrasting against the black of my hair, which I’d styled in loose waves.
I wasn’t afraid to admit I was nervous for this date. I’d changed my outfit a few times before grabbing an Uber downtown to the restaurant named Neon. It opened last year, and for a while, it was almost impossible to get a booking. Now that the hype has calmed down, it seems like it has a little more availability.
I stand in the cool evening air, waiting for David to arrive. I’d met him whilst on a run around Green Lake Park, and he’d approached me to tell me he thought I was really pretty. Given the fact that I was bright red and sweating like a rooster right before sunrise, I thought I’d give it a shot. I do have terrible taste in men, but David looked nice, even if he did wear those running sunglasses that made him look like someone out of Star Trek. He’d looked so surprised when I said yes to a date, it was really endearing and although I don’t hold high hopes that it will be a love match, it has been a while since I’ve been on a date. As Lanapointed out to me, I’ve been neglecting the bottom half of my body for some time and in her words, I shouldget some whilst I’m fit, flirty, and under thirty.
At least David is the total opposite of Alfie, my inappropriate crush of the moment, or at least the past three years. For one, David is blond, he has that runner's build where he doesn’t have an ounce of body fat on him. He is tall, so I guess he has that in common with Alfie. God why can’t I stop thinking about Alfie? He’s my boss for god’s sake.
I still can’t believe he came to my apartment and apologized for the stalking / police / apparently we’re in a relationship situation. Whatever the real reason, it’s frankly bonkers that he saw me in the hot pants that I wore to Mardi Gras one year because I was doing laundry. And because he’s a gentleman, and a stickler for his own no-fraternization policy, he only looked at my bare thighs once during the entire encounter.
Maybe it’s a sign that my luck with men was about to change. It isn’t that I haveterribleluck, just one life-altering bad experience that has forever put me off men in any way, shape, or form. A bad experience that had me running from my hometown at the age of eighteen with a vow to never look back. I visit my little hometown, which is a few hours outside of Dallas, once a year, but I’ll avoid it for longer if I can. Having the whole town know what you were up to at seventeen wasn’t a great debut into adulthood, but I can’t change it now. It would be easier to change the minds of the people of Berry Brook, but you know what small towns are like; once you have a reputation for something, it’s stuck, and it’s not going to change.
David steps out of the front seat of his Uber and gives me a small wave. He wears dark jeans and a bowling shirt, his colorful running glasses hanging over the shirt button. I cringe a little, which I realize is quite judgmental. I had hoped he might get a little more dressed up, especially given that Neon is a fancyrestaurant, but it’s fine. He seemed like a really nice guy when I met him, not pushy at all.
I give him an awkward wave, and he bounds over. “Mia, hi, wow…you look, wow.”
“Thanks, David, you look nice too.”
“Oh, thanks. My mom bought me this shirt especially.”
I laugh, and when I see him smiling and nodding, I realize it isn’t a joke. Okay…so his mom bought him a shirt. That’s fine. Not the worst thing in the world.
