Page 64 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls

Without any prompting from me, she pulled off her shirt. I had to bite my tongue. Her skin was like silk under my fingertips. Her bra the softest color pink I’d ever seen.

She turned to face me and pulled my mouth down to hers. I tried not to moan at the way her lips moved over mine – sweet and achingly slow. I gripped the edge of the couch as she climbed onto my lap and we fell backwards. Her hands were in my hair and all I could think about was how much I wanted to unclip that bra and place my mouth over her nipples. I reached for the strap and she put her hand over mine. That hesitancy was back.

‘Is it okay if all we do is kiss right now? Take things slow?’ she said.

I ran a finger along her arm, still amazed that she was letting me be this close. ‘Of course. You set the rules and I’ll follow.’

‘Thank you.’ She gave me a relieved smile that made me pause.

Did she think I would argue? It made me wonder what kind of guys she’d been with in the past. How they were idiots not to treat her like an absolute freaking queen.

She moved off my lap and took the space beside me. ‘Why did you want to be a family doctor?’

‘Where did that question come from?’

‘I enjoy learning about people’s backstories. How they decided on their life’s path. I’m still not sure what I want to do, so I like hearing how other people became inspired. Decided which direction their life would take.’

The vulnerability in her voice said that if she was going to trust me, she needed to know me. To see the real me, not the doctor mask I often wore for the town.

‘The truth is that wasn’t my first choice.’

She shot me a look of surprise. ‘There’s a story there.’

I scooted against the couch’s cushions. She wriggled between my legs, and I’m sure she could feel how hard I was but she didn’t say a word.

‘Orthopedics was my dad’s idea. He had these big dreams about me becoming the team doctor for the Nashville Predators or the Tennessee Titans. Thought it’d be a great thing to brag about to his country-club pals.’

‘Again, your dad is sounding too much like an asshole.’

‘He can be a bit much sometimes.’

She rubbed her hand down my leg as a comfort but it only turned me on more.

‘Where does this story take a turn?’ she said.

‘The Match.’

‘What’s that?’

‘In your final year of medical school you start interviewing for residency. After you’ve visited all the programs who are interested in you, you have to list in order where you would prefer to go. Orthopedics is one of the most competitive specialties.’

The memory of that day was still a bitter pill to swallow.

‘On “Match Day” you get an envelope and open it with all the other students in your class. Your family surrounds you and it’s supposed to be loud and celebratory. All you hear is ripping paper and shouts and screams. Some tears.’

‘And your envelope?’

‘It’s complicated.’

‘Go on,’ she said gently.

‘Two days before The Match I got a call from the dean’s office telling me I didn’t get into a residency program.’

She sucked in a quick breath, threaded her fingers through mine.

‘I scrambled to find another spot, and a professor I knew well encouraged me to take a family practice opening at Meharry. He insisted I had the skills and disposition for the job. Deep down I knew he was right.’

‘What happened after?’