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She’s right though. I’m obsessed with her, admittedly in love with her, and there is no finish line in sight for when I could allow myself to truly be with her. Never, is the cold hard reality. This woman, an actual gold medalist, will conquer the world if given the chance. What would she do trapped in her hometown with an older doctor for a husband? She deserves so much more.
She’ll regret me, regret wasting her youth on an old man, and it would break me.
I’ve already been selfish enough. I know her, I know myself, and the moment I gave in to the burning attraction I feel for her, it would all be over. She’d be mine, and it would ruin us both.
Slowly, I take a step back and watch her expression shudder.
“I’m not interested in you like that, Delta. I’m sorry if I’ve misled you.”
Like a coward, I turn back toward the house, not waiting to see the damage my words inflict.
Chapter Six
Delta
I’m sure Brooks expects me to be wounded and resentful, maybe even avoid him for the next few days. That’s what most women would react to the man they’re in love with telling her he isn’t interested.
Don’t get me wrong, being flat out rejected right to your face sucks. I was hurt. Then, just like I’ve been doing my entire life, I dusted myself off and planned my next attack.
I might be young, but I’m not a child. I know what I want, I know what I’m doing, and I know what I see when Brooks looks at me. I might have doubted before, so wrapped up in my own shit that I missed what was right in front of me, but the look in his eyes last night confirmed what I’ve known deep down for a long time.
He wants me, he might even love me as much as I love him, but Dr. Brooks Harrison also a neurotic, type-A nutcase who can’t stand stepping off the beaten trail even for a second.
This is a man who wouldn’t let me use the new toaster until he read the booklet that came taped to the box. Falling for someoneso much younger than him,his patient, must be eating him up inside.
The trouble for poor Brooks is, thesomeonehe wants is me. I’ve spent my whole life falling and getting back up. I’ve battered my body, broken my own heart, and pieced it all back together again.
I can do anything.
Even convince the stubborn doctor we’re meant to be together.
****
“Good morning!” Brooks stops short on the second to last stair, his hands frozen in the act of adjusting his tie and face ridged with surprise at the sight of me.
It’s only six, he’s usually out of here before I wake up, but this morning I was sure to set an alarm. I’d slipped down here while he was in the shower to begin stage one of my plan.
“Good morning.” He finally replies, continuing his journey down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Coffee’s fresh.”
He makes a noncommittal noise, avoiding looking directly at me as I scramble eggs. “Smells good. Thank you.”
“Want a breakfast burrito? I put kale in them, you can’t even taste it.”
“Sure.” He looks over at me, just as he’s pouring the coffee into his travel mug, and I pretend not to notice. Out the corner of my eye, I see the coffee overflow the cup and I have to bite back a smile. “What. Um. Where are you going?” He finally asks while he mops up the coffee, taking a stab at the same nonchalance I’m employing, as if last night didn’t happen.
“Oh!” I look down at myself, like I’d forgotten what I was wearing. It’s nothing over the top, just a pair of jeans I know make my butt look amazing and a soft white sweater, muchnicer than the oversized t-shirt and leggings I usually wear in the morning. “I have a meeting with my agent. She’s been getting a lot of job offers for me and stuff. I thought I should hear them out. I can’t be a stay-at-home dog mom forever.” I reach down and scratch my always present shadow, Tibia, behind the ear.
Brooks frowns. “Shouldn’t you wait until after we figure out the next steps for your hip?”
I shrug. “That could be months from now.” I flip the eggs off the plan on the tortilla I have waiting. “Lake is competing this afternoon, will you be home? It’s streaming live.”
“I have it in my schedule.”
“Cool.” I hand him his breakfast and stretch up on my toes to kiss his cheek. We’re practically the picture of domesticity. “Bay might come watch with us with his friend Emmett.”
****
