Page 30 of Under My Skin

“Just breathe and walk, beautiful,” he whispered. “You’ve got this.”

Damn it, why did he have to be so sweet? Why was he making it harder and harder to hate him with each passing day?

And dear God, seeing him with Isaac when he got to my apartment. Looking at the smile on his face, which had seemed so genuine, all of the doubts and questions I’d had since day one had come back to the surface, stronger than ever before.

I didn’t know how much longer I could do this. How much longer I could go without getting answers to the questions that were starting to keep me up at night. How much longer I could pretend the baby Braden had been holding and talking to tonightwasn’t his. And – worst of all – how much longer I could deny the way I felt when I was around him.

As we approached the restaurant, one of the photographers turned to look at us, and as soon as he recognized Braden, he started snapping pictures. And that was all it took for the mayhem to ensue. Within seconds, flashes were going off all around us as questions started getting fired at Braden at lightning speed.

“Braden! Over here!”

“Look this way, Braden!”

“Braden, who’s the girl?”

“Have you finally decided to settle down?”

“Is the team benching you after the incident with Jeff Hollister?”

I heard Braden groan under his breath at that last question as he held the door open for me before following me in. As soon as the door shut behind us, he let go of my arm and pulled me into his side, rubbing my shoulder. Before I even realized it, I was returning his one-armed embrace and leaning further into him.

And I couldn’t find the strength to stop it.

Whycouldn’t I find the strength to stop it? Why was I letting him break down all my defenses like this? Why was I taking comfort in his touch and even encouraging it?

“You did great, sweetheart,” he murmured. “It gets easier, I promise.”

My eyes burned with tears as guilt gnawed at my insides. I wished I’d never agreed to any of this. But it was too late to back out now.

“Hi. Braden Hicks for two,” he said to the hostess, pulling me out from under the weight of my thoughts.

“Your table’s ready, Mr. Hicks. This way,” the woman said, grabbing two menus and starting to lead us into the dining area.

Braden reached for my hand as we followed her, and even though I wanted to draw a line in the sand because there weren’t any photographers around anymore, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Wewerestill in public, after all. Who knew if some other random patron was going to have their phone out and end up snapping a picture of us?

I was just playing my part, like I’d agreed to do in the contract I’d signed. Right?

“So, what made you want to be a doctor?” Braden asked over our mouthwatering appetizers of steak tartare and baked brie.

I shrugged and took a sip of my sangria. “I’ve always kind of been a fixer. Like, when my friends are in trouble, I always look for ways to do something about it. So I guess becoming a doctor was sort of the next logical step.”

“Do you know what you want to specialize in? Or do you just want to go into general medicine?”

“Until recently, I was thinking about pediatrics. But now…I think I want to go into rheumatology,” I said with a sigh.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he took a long pull from his beer. “Like autoimmune diseases?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Um, the hospital did an autopsy after Amara… It turned out she had undiagnosed lupus. That’s why she wasn’t able to fight off the postpartum infection and went septic so fast. I guess I just want to do what I can to make sure other families don’t have to go through what I did. Like try to make sure symptoms aren’t ignored and written off, you know? But maybe I’d be more useful as a primary care doctor, where I could notice those things and refer patients to the right specialists. So I guess I don’t really know yet.”

He flashed a smile that was so warm, sogenuine, that it made my heart squeeze a little. Like he’d really been listening to my rambling and was happy to see how passionate I was about wanting to help people.

“I mean, you’ve got time. You’re about to get your bachelor’s degree, so you’ve still got…what, four more years of school?”

“Yep. And then at least three years of residency. I probably sound crazy to think I can do that with a kid, but…I mean, I don’t know what else I’d even want to do,” I mumbled.

Braden reached a hand across the table and placed it over mine, and once again, a spark ran all the way through me. For a second, it almost felt…real. Like he wasn’t playing games or putting on a show. Like we were actually on a date.

And somehow, the idea of that didn’t seem as horrible as it had a week and a half ago.

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