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Her eyes widened, and she froze but quickly recovered before she glanced down at her lap.“Uh, I…I don’t…I don’t mean to be rude.I’m not looking to date anyone.Not after…”
Shit.He should have thought of that.She had recently gotten out of an abusive relationship.Of course she didn’t want to get involved with him.
Doc cleared his throat and nodded.“Right.Sure.I can understand that.Tell you what, I’m going to leave you my phone number, and if you change your mind or if you need anything, get hold of me, okay?”
He went up to the counter and grabbed a pen to jot down his number.When he handed it to her, their fingers touched, and he wondered if she’d felt the same jolt of electricity between them as he had.
“Would you like me to walk you home?”he asked.
“N-no.That’s okay.Thank you for your help.And for getting me another ice cream.”
“Take the bandages off tonight.Wash your scratches with warm water and soap, then apply some antibiotic ointment.Keep doing that twice a day until they scab over.”
It didn’t feel right walking out of the shop and away from her.He wanted to escort her home to make sure she got there safely.More than that, he wanted to spend every second with her that he could.He respected that she didn’t want to date anyone.He would never cross her boundaries.But he still wanted to look out for her.Become her friend even.And maybe, eventually, she’d want more.He felt something for her.Something he hadn’t felt in years.It was both thrilling and terrifying.
“It was nice meeting you, Levi.”
He smiled and nodded.“Nice to meet you too, kitten.Remember you have my number.Call or text any time.Day or night.”
It was painful to watch her walk away, but when she disappeared out of sight, he turned to find Storm staring at him with a smug look on his face.
“Dude, you were so obvious,” Storm said.
Doc flipped him the bird.“Fuck off.”
Storm laughed as they took off on their bikes down the street toward the Shadowridge Guardians MC compound.
Sweat dripped down his chest.His breath sawed in and out of his lungs.Memories of combat rushed through his mind as the fog of the nightmare started to clear.Doc scrubbed a hand over his face and squeezed his eyes shut.
When were the nightmares going to stop?It had been eight years since he’d served in Iraq.Surely, he should be better by now.At least, that’s what he’d thought.Unfortunately, the experts told him otherwise.Even after all the therapy, it was possible to have PTSD for the rest of his life.
It had gotten better over the years.He no longer jumped at loud noises.He wasn’t constantly distracted by visions of war.It was the damn nightmares that wouldn’t go away no matter what kind of tea he drank before bed, or what exercise routine he tried, or what books he read.Some nights were worse than others.Tonight was one of those nights he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall right back to sleep.
He tossed the blankets back and grabbed a shirt.Ever since a few of his brothers found their Littles, walking around the clubhouse shirtless was no longer an option.It was the quickest way for the men to get all growly and jealous over their women seeing other men half naked.He could kind of understand that.The thought of Harper seeing any other man besides him without clothes on made him want to punch something, and they weren’t even dating.
A light was already on in the kitchen.That was the thing about living in the clubhouse.There were always people around to talk to when he needed it.He’d thought about getting his own place a few times, but being the club doctor, it was better for him to be close in the event of an emergency.Besides, between the MC and being on three-day shifts at the firehouse each week, there was no point in having his own place.
Gabriel, the club’s chaplain, sat at the kitchen table with a mug in front of him, looking as tired as Doc felt.
He grabbed his own mug from the cupboard to pour some tea.“Hey, man.”
“Hey.Nightmare?”Gabriel asked.
“Yeah.”
This wasn’t the first time the two men had met in the kitchen at midnight.They’d both served in the military, but while Doc still suffered from PTSD, Gabriel helped people with it.The chaplain had talked him through a bad night dozens of times.He was the only person in the MC who knew everything Doc had seen in combat.
“Want to talk about it?”Gabriel asked.
He shrugged.“Not really.It’s one of the same ones I always have.”
They sat together, drinking their tea in silence for several minutes.
“Why are you up?”Doc finally asked.
“I had a call.”Gabriel worked as a counselor for a PTSD hotline.Sometimes the calls took a toll on him.He cared so much for people and their well-being.Doc knew his friend couldn’t talk about the calls he took so instead of asking, he nodded.
“Heard you met a girl.Storm said she was sweet.Said she’s the new cake artist at Dot’s Bakery, and that you got her an ice cream cone,” the chaplain said with a smirk.
