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“The blood test we spoke about,” he says, in a suave tone.
“Oh. Right.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes.”
His gaze wanders to my breasts, and he quickly turns away. Beginning to shut the door, his voice catches me off guard.
“Sasha.”
Lifting my head, I freeze, staring into his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Cover up.”
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
With that, he disappears down the hall.
Closing the door, I release a small breath, leaning my back against the frame. It’s crazy how worked up this man seems to get me. Searching through the closet, I decide on a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable shirt.
Making my way downstairs, the living room is silent, unoccupied. Once I step into the dining room, I spot Jaxon sitting at the table. There’s a man standing before him, with his back facing me, and he’s just drawn blood from Jaxon.
“Sasha,” Jaxon says, and my eyes dart to his. “Just in time.” Rolling down his sleeve over the taped gauze, he stands. “This is Dr. Winchester.”
It takes him a moment to face me, and when he does, he formally nods. The doctor is an older man, with gray hair, and a stern face. He appears to be all business, and no small talk.
“Good to meet you,” Dr. Winchester dryly mutters, gesturing to the empty chair with his gloved hand. “Have a seat.”
Glancing over at Jaxon, he nods, reassuringly.
Sitting awkwardly in the chair, I chew on my lip.
“Coffee?”
Looking at Jaxon, I grin. “Please.”
And he makes his way into the kitchen.
The doctor removes his gloves and sits in the chair beside me, opening a manila folder. Grabbing the sheet of paper resting inside, he places it before him, and clicks the end of the pen.
“Confirm your name.”
“Sasha,” I breathe.
He nods once, and scribbles something down on the paper. A moment later, he lifts his head. “And last?”
“Pierce.”
“Your age?” he asks.
“Twenty-five.”
He scribbles down my answer. “Do you have any diseases?”
I swallow hard, blinking rapidly. “Not that I know of.”
He looks up at me again, with a blank face. “Any health conditions?”
“No.”
