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"Just so you know, I didn't see Dean in secret," she says. "We kissed at a party at the end of senior year. It was a dare. And after we kissed, it was impossible to go back to being friends."
It’s hard to imagine my little sister as a woman who is months away from having a baby. In my mind, she will always be the tomboy with scrapes all over her knees from playing hockey without pads. The little girl who wrapped her tiny fingers around mine and begged me to play hockey with her.
Our dad taught her the basics, t
he same as he did with the rest of us, but Kat was different. She was the only girl in a house full of boys. We did our best to treat her like a girl. Except Kat wanted nothing more than to be one of the guys. So, it was no surprise when she brought Dean home, claiming he was her best friend from college.
“If he breaks your heart—”
“You’ll break his face,” she finishes with laughter in her voice.
“I’ll break more than his face. Consider him a dead man.”
“Dean is one of the good ones,” she says with confidence.
I groan at the final score that pops up on my television screen. “This blows.”
“I assume you’re watching the game.”
“Yeah. My guys are playing like shit. All of this is my fault.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it,” she counters. “So, don’t beat yourself up. Focus on getting better instead of worrying about all of the things you could have done differently.”
“You sound like Austin.”
She chuckles. “Where do you think I get it from? He’s the most levelheaded of all of us. Austin has been a big help lately. He took me to my doctor appointment yesterday. He’s excited about the baby. He can’t wait to be an uncle.”
“Me, too.”
“You don’t seem like it.”
“I’m still getting used to the fact you’re pregnant. But I’m excited about being an uncle. I always knew it would happen, just not so soon.”
“Hey, Denny,” she groans. “Dean is clicking in on the other line. Can I talk to you later?”
“Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll see you soon.”
She says her final goodbye, and then the line goes dead. I have to fix all of the shit I have broken. According to Dr. Devine, that change has to start with me, and I’m not looking forward to it.
Chapter Eight
Delilah
Duke leans back, his big arms flexing against the couch. My eyes and mind wander for a second before I pull myself together. None of my patients has ever had this effect on me. Duke is the first patient I ever fantasized about before I met them.
“You okay, Doc?” Duke tilts his head to the side, and a strand a hair falls in front of his eyes. “You seem… distracted.” A wicked smirk crosses his lips.
I straighten up, unable to meet his gaze. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just listening.”
“Funny,” he says with a hint of sarcasm, “because I haven’t spoken a word in a few minutes. I’ve just been watching you watch me. And like I said, you seem a little distracted.”
Duke’s legs are spread wide, and when he moves his big hand to his inner thigh, my eyes bug out of my head. He’s not wearing underwear again.
“Moving on,” I say, pretending he doesn’t affect me. “How did you feel when Kat said you hurt her?”
My question rips the smug look from his handsome face. He blows out a deep breath and threads his fingers together behind his head.
“I felt like shit,” he admits. “Like I screwed up worse than normal.”
