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Her heart. Her body. Her sleeping and waking hours.
I’m planning to be the air she can’t live without, just like I can’t live without her.
Unfortunately, this isn’t the impression I’ve left on her over the last four days.
On Monday, I promised to ask her out. Promised to listen, to share my past in return. Why I took off from Washington and then San Francisco.
I had every intention of doing it, too.
Then life interjected, hers and mine, fucking our plans.
While Prue has worked late, I’ve worked later. Turns out my former and new patients combined with the marketing campaign Vienna launched worked better than expected.
Before Monday, my schedule for the week filled up nicely. Starting at nine a.m. to seven p.m., these are long but comfortable hours. Nothing I haven’t done before.
But once my patients and whoever joined them on their appointment were impressed by both Bonnie’s and my professional yet amicable approach, more patients called.
Wanting to establish my name in Los Angeles, I instructed Vienna to sayyesto everyone who called. She opened up my calendar, adding visits up to ten at night for the first week.
I was aware of how looking too available could lessen my appeal, but that wasn’t the case here. Within a week, I had my schedule booked until next month. And then some.
Bonnie and Vienna would be compensated for the overtime.
The person who truly mattered, though, the one I needed to make things right by and couldn’t, was Prue.
Every morning ever since the Friday I first saw her, I’ve been planning how I’d ask her out. Take her to a nice restaurant, feed her, love her, fuck her, sleep beside her. Listen to her.
And every morning for the rest of the week, I couldn’t give it to her. Sure, I could’ve asked her for a late-night dinner.
What kind of man would it have made me, though? A man who yawns when his date talks, who treats her like second best. An asshole who looks like he treats a precious gem as if she’s a fake diamond.
Which is why I haven’t asked her out on an official date yet.
Meanwhile, I’ve been seeing her in our office building. I’ve been packing lunch for two every day. I’ve asked Dr. Waldron’s receptionist for Prue’s breaks, and Vienna moved my schedule around them to show up at their clinic.
I didn’t mind sucking up to my patients to apologize for it. They didn’t seem to mind, anyway. As long as I saw them, they were content.
And Prue… Her bright, grateful eyes. She didn’t think I was a jerk for not setting a dinner date. She understood. Liked spending time with me too. Not as much as I thrived on our stolen moments together, but it’s been more than I could ask for.
Those thirty minutes we’d been spending side by side on a bench in the park next to work have been why I woke up every morning. She’d opened up to me, has been telling me about her days, and the book she’s been reading before bedtime—a book I saw on her nightstand.
Because I couldn’t hold back from sneaking into her apartment and watching her sleep. I tell myself I’m not invading her privacy. She loves having me around. And I can’t be without her.
A few fulfilling seconds where I stare at her angelic face is all I’ve allowed myself the past four nights. Hovering at the edge of her bed has lifted me like nothing else ever could. Jacking off to her sleeping form unlocked new desires in me.
The lack of a barrel bolt or a chain lock maddens me, despite the easy access it offers. The security in the building’s lobby is supposed to provide us with a sense of security.
As if intruders only come from outside the building.
Cocky idiots.
I’ll have to install one on the door when we move in together. Until then, I won’t hinder the free access I have to her.
Thankfully, she’s not on to me, not yet. She’s mentioned forgetting to lock her apartment, blushing, and joking about it. No talk about her sticky stomach or breasts, none of that.
Sweet, innocent Prue. Mine.
The ringing of my phone interrupts my train of thought. I fish the phone out of the pocket of my slacks to see it’s one of my old patients from San Francisco. Dana.
