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And again.
“You know, relationship experts would probably say we’re starting out on a bad foot.”
I shrug. “My foot is already bad, so maybe a bad knee?”
“That’s worse than a bad foot.”
“Then I guess we’ll need a doctor.”
His hand squeezes mine.
“I think my prescription is for a movie and dinner at my place on Friday?”
The way he words it as a question makes my heart skip and quicken in my chest and I’m not sure it’s ready for that type of workout yet. And he’s not assuming or demanding my presence on Friday, he’s asking.Swoon.And he’s not asking me back to his place tonight.That’s good.
Grabbing my purse, I get my phone and hold it out. He grabs his, and I recite my number.
He texts me his number. I read it and laugh.
“Kisses on second dates only, doctor.”
He winks. “Fair enough.”
This man has got to be a dream because my reality is never this perfect.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Riggs.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Nicklin.”
3
Nicklin
I launch to sitting up in my bed, battling the comforter as sweat drenches my body. It takes me a moment to remember where I’m at. The clock on the nightstand lets me know that it is early Friday morning, and I fall back into the warm comfort of my bed.
Taking several shaky breaths, I relive the steamy dream I woke from. Dr. Dreamy has been a part of my restless nights ever since our date, and no matter what I do, I can’t help but pant from the memory of him. My body tingles constantly. Throughout the day, Riggs pops into my mind from time to time, and I blush at the mere thought of him.
The craziest part is that I’ve had similar dreams like this for the past year, and I swear Riggs has been a part of them.
Or I want him to be that guy… more likely.
Could all be fate? After all, I woke up from a coma in the hospital when they weren’t sure I would. And Evan matched us up, and we seemed to hit it off. I know that anything is possible. I’m living proof. Even a connection with the sexiest doctor I’ve ever been fortunate enough to meet, let alone go on a date with.
Stretching myself out, I groan at the scintillating feeling and sigh into my pillow. Time to get out of bed. The warmth and pressure of the heavy covers and how my body sinks into the pillows make it hard to move, but I crawl out anyway. Living life to the fullest doesn’t happen under percale sheets.
After showering and eating breakfast, I ramp up my computer and go through all the job search sites.
Before everything, I was a music teacher, and I loved it. Teaching was a lot of fun and hard work, but I didn’t feel like I was reaching for something bigger. Something was missing, and I want to make sure that I take full advantage of this second chance I’ve been given.
I change my search from practical teaching jobs to performance. It’s thrilling to be on stage. How amazing would that be to go back to that?
Or what if I create music again? That fell by the wayside with my adulting. Now things can be different. I want to take chances. I want to make a life I connect with, not just put up with.
I set my laptop on the coffee table, reach over to the side of the couch, and grab my guitar. I scrimped and saved to buy this beauty in high school. Once it was mine, it became my most valued possession. I’ve worked through so many emotions with this baby. It’s seen me through my most challenging times and my most magical.
My fingers thrum over the strings as I pick away. Nothing specific, just fooling around.
Several minutes go by when my fingers find a rhythm and tune that pours out of me. I close my eyes and let the music take over.
