Page 82 of The Doctors Will See You Now

Butterflies took off in my stomach at the thought of him being that anxious to see me.

Of course, he looked as handsome as ever, dressed in black slacks and a pale blue button-down, collared shirt that made his eyes appear even bluer. And Lord almighty, it looked good on him—snug in all the right places with both sleeves rolled up and showcasing his strong forearms.

“Uh…” I paused and glanced down at my slightly casual black summer dress that I’d paired with open-toe wedges. “I think I’m a little underdressed…”

He shook his head, his eyes lighting with a gleam to reinforce his words. “You’re perfect.”

Will leaned in to press a soft kiss to my cheek and then led me through the door and into the loft-style apartment that was starting to feel like a second home.

It really was a spectacular place—floor-to-ceiling windows highlighting the open and airy space, paired with just the right amount of sleek yet comfortable furniture and décor to make it feel cozy.

I loved his apartment, and it definitely fit him like a glove. And if I was being honest, it made me a little jealous on those now rare occasions when I wasn’t at his place that I was still living inside Bill and Janet’s humble abode. With my mother’s meddling and insane work-out routine and my father’s obnoxious music habits, their apartment was starting to feel smaller than a sardine tin—in reality, in New York, it was palatial.

“Let me be the first to welcome you to our first official date,” he said with a gallant sweep of his arm and a smirk once we’d entered the living room.

“This isn’t our first date,” I disagreed with a quirk of my brow. Ever since I’d admitted how jealous I was, Will had become persistent with this whole first official date thing.

Considering we’d been nearly attached at the hip since the night of our real first date, it was a bit insane. I mean, it was an infrequent occurrence when I didn’t stay the night at his place. Hell, I’d even started keeping extra clothes and underwear in his closet.

But he’d been preparing for this night since Wednesday, after Marlene had tried to convince me toast and a pickle was an actual lunch option. And since Will wasn’t on call this weekend, once the work clock struck five p.m., he instructed me to head to my parents’ apartment, get ready, and be at his apartment at seven on the dot.

“Okay… It’s our first official date as a couple.”

I wasn’t sure that was true either. But our real first date had been wildly above the national average, so if he wanted to use that as his basis for all future encounters, I wasn’t going to complain.

“Whatever you say, Doc.” I shrugged, and Will smirked his satisfaction.

I followed his lead into the kitchen and set my purse down on the counter while he busied himself at the stove. “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?”

Will glanced over his shoulder while he stirred a white cream sauce inside a pot on the burner. “I’m wining and dining my favorite lady.”

I silently hoped said wining and dining included foreplay and Will’s penis.

His eyes searched mine studiously, and when all of my cues finally clicked together into a complete puzzle, a sexy smile eased its way across his full lips. “Oh, don’t worry, there’ll be time for that, too.”

Good lord, he was getting good at reading me.

“Lots and lots of time,” he added, and I felt my cheeks heat up from the intensity of his gaze.

“Stop looking at me like that. You’re making me blush,” I said and put my hands to my face to hide my pink cheeks.

“Eh,” he muttered. “Not likely. I love your blush. It doesn’t happen often anymore, but when it does, it drives me fucking crazy. If just this look does it for you, you can expect me to be giving it to you for the next one hundred years,” he said with a soft smile before turning his focus back toward the stove.

And while he stood there with his back to me, relaxed and calm and finishing up dinner, I froze in my tracks. His words might as well have been jumper cables, sparking a fast and steady pounding inside of my chest. The next one hundred years?

Whoa.

Whoa.

Whoa.

That was the first time Will had ever referred to us in a future tense like that, and I wasn’t sure which was more potent—the way those words made me feel or how badly I wanted them to be true.

Jesus Christ, what was happening to me? We hadn’t even exchanged I love yous, and my heart seemed intent on keeping Will for the long haul. Not just the long haul. You want to keep him forever…

“I hope you’re in the mood for Italian.” The crisp cadence of his voice snapped me out of my shocked trance, and while he moved toward the sink to drain pasta from the big pot in his hands, I ran two, now sweaty, palms down my dress in an attempt to pull my shit together.

I know, I know. Sweaty palms. Supergross, right?