Page 141 of Doctor's Bossy Match
I listen, my throat tight.
“I’m proud of her.Everything she’s done, everything she is.And hearing how you talk about her, well, that’s how I see her too.It’s rare, what you’re feeling.And I do trust you.I really do.But she’s still my little girl and—”
But then his tone shifts slightly.A warning, grounded in affection.
“I just want to be honest; you might not get the outcome you’re hoping for.You go all the way there, and she might not feel the same.Are you prepared for that?”
I nod, slowly.Though deep down, I know it will destroy me, but at least I’ll know.“Thank you.For being straight with me.And yeah, I know the risk.But I really think she’s worth it.”
He stands.“All right then, good luck.”
I hesitate, then grin sheepishly.“I need one more favor.”
“You’re pushing it,” he teases.
“Do you have her address?”
He heads toward the kitchen.“Let me get a piece of paper.”
“Oh, I can just type it into my phone.”I hold it up.
“Right, GPS.”He rattles it off, and I punch it into my maps app.My fingers hover for a second as the route appears.Three hours.
I pause at the front step, turning back.“Please don’t tell her I’m coming.I want to be the one to tell her.”
He gives me a look that says he understands.“You’ll keep me updated?”
“Absolutely.When I get back.”
“Well,” he says with a smirk, “I expect to see you back at work Monday morning.”
I grin.“Definitely.”
He walks me out and lifts a hand in farewell as I climb into the car.The window’s down, the sky wide open above me.And with every mile I drive, a mix of anticipation and hope starts to stir inside me.
By the time I hit the edge of New York, my heart’s thumping through my chest.
Three hours later, I pull up in front of her place.My stomach knots as I take the steps two at a time and find the buzzer panel.
I press the button for her floor.Static hums, then a voice: “Hello?”
It’s her.
I swallow, then lean in.“Hi.It’s Brant.”
The buzzer buzzes, and the door clicks open, but she didn’t say anything else.My heart slams against my ribs as worry washes over me.Have I made a mistake?
I push through and take the stairs, two, three flights up, until I’m outside her door.As I lift my hand to knock, it swings open.
She’s barefoot in sweats and an oversized T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.Her eyes widen the second she sees me.
“How did you find me?”
I breathe out, trying to keep my voice calm.“Your dad.”
Her eyebrows shoot up.“My dad told you where I live?”
“Yeah.”I lift my hands in mock surrender, a slight grin tugging at my mouth.“And no, I’m not dead yet.”
