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A stream of sunlight coaxed Kenna awake. The soreness of her shoulder became pronounced as she shifted in the bed. She rubbed the tender skin but was indifferent toward its accompanying ache when fragments of the previous night crept forth from her memory.
His bite. His kiss. His touch.
Lying in Dr. Merino’s sheets, she found herself not caring whether it was morning or afternoon. Her studying and half-completed presentation faded into insignificance because laying beside her was a man who’d proven more challenging than any exam or paper. And she’d had him.
But the rush of triumph fizzled out as she realized whatever conclusion she penned on his character wouldn’t satisfy her. Something would always feel incomplete.
No answer would’ve been enough where Dr. Merino was concerned. Their having met had birthed an incurable obsession within her, an insatiable creature clawing on her entrails. They’d slept together and still that obsession tore at her insides, demanding more. She echoed the sentiment he’d mumbled into her chest, ‘I want to get closer to you. No matter what I do, it isn’t enough.’
Maybe that’s why something tugged at her heart at the thought of walking away from him. Insufficient research.
She’d cheated the system. She’d had the pleasure without the pain. Maybe she didn’t deserve answers because she had circumvented the trauma he was known to inflict. What she did deserve was eternal damnation for wishing that trauma upon herself, if only it meant she’d understand.
Kenna’s breath hitched as he stirred. His lids fluttered open, irises dark as ever amid the day’s brightness.
“Good morning.” Sleep edged his voice.
Stretching, hands clasped behind his head, he regarded her with a smile so faint, she may have dreamt it. She tried to focus on anything else in the room but her eyes betrayed her and roamed over the sparse hair under his arms and the contrasting bareness of his torso.
“Is there a reason you’ve left a foot of space between us? Did you have FedEx overnight a restraining order? Come here.”
Their night of passion had waned and Kenna felt a different kind of heat ensconcing her neck. She had more reservations toward the innocent invitation to sidle up to him than she had been writhing beneath him.
As she scooted closer, Dr. Merino’s faint smile gave way to a genuine one and his arm corralled her, tugging her flush to his side. She breathed in the smell of his skin. Something about it was off. Foreign yet familiar.
It was her scent, still lingering on him like perfume.
“How did you sleep?”
Kenna almost laughed. All of the tension and animosity and uncertainty between them reduced to talk of their sleeping habits. She outlined the small mass below his left collarbone.
“Well enough.”
“I promise, it’s not as fascinating as it seems.” Dr. Merino stroked along her spine and she thought she was in danger of falling under a trance until he muttered the wrong age. “I’ve had it since I was 26. You get used to it.”
“Oh. I thought you’d said it was ahead of med school.”
“Are you trying to catch me in a lie, darling?”
“No, I just–”
“If I told you otherwise, I misspoke. We won’t be off to a great start if there’s no trust on day one, now will we?”
He’d possessed her body for one evening and was now operating under the assumption that they were a ‘we.’
Charlee had warned of his clinginess. Erin, of his coldness. Alex, of his propensity to be sweet and then suddenly rob you of everything. Even knowing this, Kenna remained nestled against him as if there was no imminent danger lurking on the horizon.
But what if Dr. Merino wasn’t clingy? Perhaps he was lonely. The majority of his time was spent on campus and when he did go home he had to be on call for hospitalizations and other incidents. She had little clue what else his job entailed but surmised–solely off his general attitude–that it was both extensive and exhausting. Kenna knew what that was like, to absorb oneself in something so completely, one forgets to live.
She shut her eyes until they stung.
Why was she empathizing with him? She should’ve been gathering her clothes and brainstorming an excuse to leave the craftsman on Fairbrook and never look back.
He turned away from her to consult the time on his phone and then dropped the device like it had burst into flames, fleeing the bed. “Shit. I’m going to be late.”
Sitting criss-cross in the middle of the sheets, she watched in mild amusement as Dr. Merino stumbled to the closet and retrieved a hanging garment encased in plastic.
“Late for what?”
