“May have?”
“I did. I did make a bad decision. I did it because I was in love with you and it was the only way I could think to protect you.”
She puts her hands on her hips as she glares up at me. I begin to wonder if maybe this isn't going to end the way I hoped after all.
“Who said I needed protecting?”
I have to look out the window for a moment as I gather my thoughts. When I look back at her, I say, “It would kill me to think my past hurt you. That my reputation could hurt your business. Maybe it’s sexist, I don’t know. All I know is that I couldn’t let it happen.”
“And so leaving and breaking my heart, that was the solution?”
I wonder if she is this direct with her patients. I suspect that many of them have difficulty with it because it’s not easy to have your soul laid out bare and criticized. But I’m strong enough to take it. I’m going to see this through until she kicks me out or takes me back.
“I didn’t know that I would break your heart,” I say lamely. I knew it would hurt her, but I didn’t know how she felt about me. In fact, I still don’t know how she feels about me, except hurt and angry.
“Well, you did, Oliver Wolfe. And I really want to hate you for it, but then you show up here with a Santa cane and you’re groveling... It’s hard to resist.”
Hope blooms again. I give her my lopsided smile. “I can cook too,” I tell her, hoping to remind her of some of my good qualities.
For a moment, we stand and look at each other. Finally, I go for broke. “Charlotte, please forgive me. I know I’m a terrible risk because I have a reputation hanging over my head, I have no job, no place to live, and to make it worse…I’m a plastic surgeon.”
I don’t know if she’s been toying with me, or if she really was upset and grilling me. But that last comment breaks her, and she reluctantly smiles. “That plastic surgeon thing... That’s really hard to get over.”
Taking a chance, I step toward her but still don’t touch her. “I love you, Charlotte,” I say again.
She looks up at me. “So you said.”
“I love you, Charlotte,” I say again. And I’m going to keep saying it until I know for sure that she’s going to forgive me and give me a chance.
“How much?” she asks, and I hear the humor in her tone.
“I love you, Charlotte.”
She shakes her head. “Probably not as much as I love you, Oliver.”
Halle-fucking-lujah. I swallow hard. “I love you, Charlotte. Please let me hold you before I die.”
She gives a nonchalant shrug and then she grins, jumps into my arms, wrapping her arms and legs around me. Never in my entire life have I felt so relieved and so blissfully happy as I do in this moment. I wrap my arms around her and hold her, wanting to tell her that I don’t plan to ever let her go, but I know that I still have a ways to go to earn her trust back so I simply just told her and repeat, “I love you, Charlotte.”
I repeat over and over until she presses her lips to mine, and now I’m loving her with my mouth, my tongue dancing with hers as her taste begins to fill all the empty spaces that opened up the moment I walked out of her door.
As usual, having her body pressed against mine makes my dick hard as a rock, but I ignore it because just having her give me another chance is all I really need in this moment.
She pulls away from the kiss and looks at me. “I still need a roommate.”
Again, my heart does cartwheels in my chest. “No, you don’t, because I'm back.”
“I might be able to look past that plastic surgeon thing,” she says with a gleam in her eye.
“You might not have to because I’m not sure I’m going to be able to find work as a plastic surgeon.”
She frowns. “Why not? Can’t you go back to Dr. Kramer?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Except I’ve proven to be quite the flake.”
I grow concerned that she might be worried she’s about to end up with a slacker boyfriend.
“I’m not worried. I’m sure I can find something somewhere. This is a big city, and there’s probably smaller clinics that need a doctor or maybe a hospital that needs a surgeon that might be able to overlook my past.”