Page 7 of The Doctor

“Clara!” Zee’s sharp voice startled me, and I blinked rapidly, focusing on the blackened screen of the television before I pulled my gaze toward where he stood at the door.

“Hey.” I forced a smile. “There you are.”

“You okay, kid?” Zee eyed me dubiously, edging toward the couch like he thought I might bite.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He set a large bowl of popcorn on the ottoman before snagging a blanket off the back of the couch and tossing it toward me. “You zoned out there for a moment. I called your name, and you didn’t answer, and you’re…” His gaze darted to the blanket that he’d thrown into my lap. “You’re not exactly dressed.”

Frowning, I pulled the blanket away. I was still wearing the shirt I’d stolen from his dresser when I felt my mind starting to wander and needed his scent wrapped around me to help me focus. “I’m dressed.”

He pressed his fingers to his skull, closed his eyes, and sucked in a deep breath. “You’re not wearing anything other than my shirt, and you’re just lying there, spread eagle and…”

A grin tugged at my lips. I climbed off my back—where I’d apparently landed as my mind spun—and onto my knees. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little skin?”

He still hadn’t opened his eyes, and I couldn’t help it; I stood on the couch and went to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”

“Clara.” He bit the word out as his eyes snapped open, and he knocked me back, grabbing me by the shoulders and holding me at arm's length. “That’s not funny.”

But it was.

And I couldn’t stop my laughter.

The dark and brooding man, this Adonis that women would die for a taste of, was turning pink in the cheeks at the thought of my naked body.

Hell, it’s not like it was recent. The last time he’d helped me bathe and dress, I had to have only been five or six.

He was a doctor, for God’s sake. It’s not like he didn’t see bodies in every state of undress.

It’s not like a man as gorgeous as him hadn’t had women dying to share his bed.

To touch him.

Hold him.

Make love to him.

Be with him the way I’d only ever dreamed…

“Clara!” He snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I jerked my attention back to him. “You sure you’re okay?”

I forced a smile.

Forced a smile.

Forced…

“Fine.” It came out a whisper, and I could hardly blame him for the suspicion that filled his eyes. “Ready for the movie? It’s a murder mystery. Looks really good.”

Before he could stop me, grill me further, I reached for the remote and the bowl of popcorn, then gestured to the corner where he always sat whenever we watched movies together. Once he settled into it, I took my chance, sitting down next to him and putting the popcorn bowl atop our joined legs.

“This whole couch, and you have to sit this close?” he grumbled under his breath, but I only wiggled closer, flashing him a smile.

“I like being close to you.” I liked it, because the monster in my head calmed in his presence. I could think. I could breathe. I could focus without the need for a visit to my dealer beforehand. That itch to do, do, do wasn’t there when Zee was around. I could just… be.

His lips pulled into a pained smile, but I couldn’t let it affect me. If I thought about his rejection, I was sure I would break in two.

That would have to wait for another time.