Page 8 of Fractured Heart

“I’m fine,” I whisper. It’s cold in the air-conditioned waiting room, but I don’t want Tate to go out of his way on my account. I’m not used to someone doting on me like this.

“Are you sure, Roonie?” Tate presses. “It could be a while before the doctor gets here.”

“Doctor?” I ask in surprise, glancing down at my bandaged knee. “But I’m fine now.”

“You had a pretty nasty fall. You should get checked over.”

I nod. It seems like a waste of a perfect night, but Tate’s right. I should see a doctor, just to be safe.

“So, what happened?” he asks, his eyes momentarily taking in my bandaged knee.

“I slipped.” I shrug. “How about you? Why were you out there?”

Tate doesn’t quite meet my eye. He hesitates for a few seconds and finally says, “I went for a run.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“I needed to clear my head.” He shrugs.

He doesn’t say anything else and I don’t press. There’s a serious note in his tone, and I can understand not wanting to talk about it. I don’t want anything to ruin this magical evening.

Tate stands. The fluorescent lights illuminate his blond hair and it looks like he’s got a halo above his head. It’s how I would capture Prince Charming as he steps on the stage. In that one magical moment, no one would be able to tear their eyes away. Especially not his Cinderella.

I start to hum softly, but only get out a few notes before I realize what I’m doing and stop. Thankfully, Tate doesn’t seem to notice. He takes a seat next to me, and I keep my gaze glued on my lap, so he doesn’t catch me staring. I can practically feel the heat radiating off his body. He’s sitting just inches away from me and his hand rests casually on the couch next to mine. He’s so close that if I were to shift over slightly, our pinkies would touch.

I almost give in to temptation before I yank my hand away.

If Tate notices, he doesn’t comment. He shifts on the couch, so that his thigh presses up against mine, and my breath hitches. Does he even realize that our legs are touching? Is he doing it on purpose? Or does he not even notice?

As my mind races through the possibilities, a middle-aged woman in a white lab coat enters the room. She has a stethoscope around her neck, so it’s safe to assume she’s the campus doctor.

“You must be Tate Green,” she greets him.

“Hello, Doctor.” Tate stands and shakes her hand.

“I’m Dr. MacAulay,” she introduces herself, then turns to me, “and you are?”

“Roonie.” I stuff the necklace pieces back in my pocket and start to stand. I reach out my hand to shake hers, but Tate suddenly scoops me up in his arms. I grimace slightly at the ensuing pain and then desperately try not to blush. I don’t know what would be less embarrassing: demanding he put me down or letting him carry me?

“Right this way.” Dr. MacAulay turns around and heads past Faye’s desk.

“I can walk,” I whisper to Tate.

Tate chuckles, but doesn’t set me down. He carries me all the way to the examination room and then gently lowers me onto the table.

“Thanks.” I blush.

With a nod, Tate turns around and heads toward the door.

“Tate?” I call after him, my voice filled with panic. What if this is it? What if I never see him again?

“Yeah?” He turns around and gives me a questioning look.

“N-nothing.” I flush and look away before he can see the longing in my eyes.

Tate’s the perfect guy—a true Prince Charming—but I can’t ask him to stay. He’d do it out of pity, or just to be nice, but he’d never be interested in someone like me. I’m no princess, and I’m definitely no Cinderella. Which is why I don’t say anything as Dr. MacAulay closes the examination door and he disappears from sight.

Chapter 5