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“Well, the last thing I want to do is disrupt any progress that’s been made. If it’s okay with you, Theresa and I thought maybe I could sit in with you over the next few weeks, reacclimate myself to the children. I’d rather not make yet another change. I don’t have to tell you consistency is key. They need to know they can count on us to be here for them. We can decide from there how to divvy the caseload. Since I’m only returning part-time, you will likely retain a good number of the patients you’re currently working with.”
“That sounds good to me.” This is probably the best approach, regardless if it makes me slightly uncomfortable.
I just hate being judged, and if someone is in the room with me, dissecting everything I say, then I’m definitely going to feel that way, even if it’s not their intent.
“If you could send me this week’s appointments when you have time, I’ll let you know which ones I think will be a good idea to start with.”
“Okay.” I nod, because really, what else can I do? Say no, I’d rather not, get up, and stomp off?
I mean, it has nothing to do with Aspen, but I’m just now getting my footing, and having to work around another person is not an ideal situation for me. Then again, at the end of the day, it’s not about me but the children we work with.
“Perfect. That was all I needed. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to meet with me.” She stands and I do the same.
“No problem at all.” I give her a slight nod before quickly exiting her office and entering mine, which sits directly next to hers.
Glancing up at the clock on the back wall, I decide I have just enough time to grab a quick bite to eat if I hurry. After slipping on my coat and grabbing my purse from behind my desk, I head down the hall toward the reception area.
Pulling my cell from my bag to scroll through my emails, I make sure I didn’t miss anything in the chaos of the day, only half paying attention to where I’m going.
That’s my first mistake.
I’m a pretty clumsy person by nature, always knocking into stuff, tripping, and my absolute favorite—insert sarcasm—stubbing my toes on literally everything. And all that when I’m actually paying attention. When distracted, I might as well be a walking catastrophe waiting to happen. You’d think I would have learned my lesson by now, or at least, that’s the first thought that hits me when I round the corner and run directly into what feels like a wall. A surprised grunt bursts past my lips as I lose grip of my purse, sending the contents of it careening across the floor in every direction.
I watch it happen in slow motion, powerless to move fast enough to stop it. Glancing up from the mess my belongings created, I get my first real look at what, or ratherwho, I ran into. Not a walltechnically, but a man built almost like one.
Broad shoulders, bicep muscles easily visible underneath a long-sleeved shirt that does nothing to hide the definition of his chest or abs—though I’d bet that was intentional if I had to guess. You don’t have a body like that and not go out of your way to show it off.
I’m almost afraid to look at his face, and when I finally do, my jaw goes slack.
Messy blond hair pushed haphazardly away from his forehead. The same color hair dusts a strong jawline, just long enough to be called a beard. It complements his defined cheekbones and full lips, which are currently quirked in an amused smile that has my gaze lifting fully to meet his. Thick lashes rim brilliant green eyes, making him even more attractive than I thought he was just seconds prior.
For a brief moment, my mind goes completely blank, like the sight of him alone has rendered me speechless. Me, a person who always has something to say, can’t think of a single word.
“Sorry about that.” When he speaks, the sound reverberates through me, rich and husky, like velvet against my eardrums. “Let me help you with this.”
Before I’ve even processed his movements, he’s crouched down, picking up the contents of my purse that I had momentarily forgotten about.
“You don’t have to do that.” My brain finally snaps from its haze as he picks up a tampon.
“It’s the least I can do.” He drops the tampon and a tube of ChapStick back into the bag without so much as batting an eye. “I was texting and walking. Someone should write me a ticket.”
It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s attempting to be funny.
“Because we all know texting and walking is against the law.” I fail to contain the smile that tugs at my lips. “Perhaps a night in the slammer would be a more fitting punishment.”
He stuffs the last of my belongings into my purse but makes no attempt to stand up right away.
“Would you be there too?”
When I glance at him again, I find his gaze already on me, and he’s much closer this time, given our positioning. So close, in fact, that I can see the little specks of yellow that pepper his otherwise very green eyes.
“Becausethatwould make for aninterestingsleepover,” he quickly adds.
His eyes crinkle in the corners when he grins, giving him an undeniable boyish charm that’s impossible not to notice.
I don’t have time to even formulate words before a familiar voice enters the conversation.
“Is everything all right out here?”
