Page 81 of Dr. Attending

Weston

If heaven exists on this Earth, I’ve definitely found it.

I’m no longer on call, so I don’t have to worry about going to the hospital. My son is supposed to come home this afternoon from his stay with my parents. And best of all, I currently have Caroline Winters snoozing in bed after an incredible night together.

Her dark hair blankets my pillow like a shiny waterfall as she steadily breathes in and out, her hand wrapped around mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Even though she’s spent the entire week at my house, I still don’t want her to go. I can picture waking up next to her like this every day. Picture a future with her. Picture a life with her.

I stealthily grab my phone from the nightstand, and have to blink at my screen several times because I can’t believe that it’s so late. I don’t remember the last time I slept past eight, but it’s currently ten ’til nine, and I have no plans to get up.

I read through my text messages to kill some time, scrolling through the group chat with our friends.

Apparently, Beau lost their fantasy football league last year, and his punishment was that he had to grow a mustache. He posted a picture of his progress this morning, and the chat is an absolute disaster. Walker has dubbed him a knockoff Hulk Hogan, and Morgan wants to know if the patches of missing hair are from friction. Everyone is bantering back and forth. Everyone except for me and Caroline . . . for obvious reasons.

While I doubt anyone—other than Morgan and Walker—is even suspicious of us, I send a quick message just in case. The last thing I want is to have to explain to any of our nosy friends what’s happening between the two of us, especially when I’m not entirely sure how to label it myself.

We’re definitely more than friends. But we’re not dating, and neither of us is seeing anyone else. It’s like we’re stuck in some sort of emotional limbo until she gets to where she needs to be. And until she does, I don’t think either one of us wants to deal with the drama of telling people yet.

After we cleaned up last night, Caroline and I talked through the scene. She asked me how I knew so much about BDSM. I told her about my new friend, and how he’s helped me explore some of the things that I didn’t know I was interested in until recently. I also accidentally let it slip that I talked to him about her, and that he was the one who made the kink quiz we took.

She obviously pretended to be cranky about my “breach of personal information,” but that didn’t last long because she was actually super curious about what I’d learned. Since it was already late, and she could barely keep her eyes open, I promised to take her through some of it once she finished her exam. I don’t want her to think I’m an expert, because I still have a lot to learn, but I’m hopeful that we can learn together—that we can grow together.

Caroline stirs beside me as I’m texting the senior resident who was working last night to thank him for handling everything.

“You’re up early,” she mumbles as she stretches her arms above her head.

“And you’re up late.” I chuckle and pull her against my chest, breathing in the scent of my shampoo in her hair from our shower last night. “Guess you decided to stay for good.”

Caroline giggles when I nip at her ear, but then lets out a soft sigh. “Carter’s coming home today . . . you need to spend time with him.”

Her voice dips into something almost somber when she mentions my son, but I can’t figure out why. I know it’s not jealousy—whenever they’re together, she shines even brighter than she does when we’re alone. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice the unease in her tone.

“You can spend time with him too,” I suggest, hoping she takes me up on the offer, even though I know deep down that she won’t.

She doesn’t have long until her board exam, so hanging around a toddler isn’t going to help her stress. But she’s just so good with him, and I can see how much he adores her, even though they haven’t had a chance to spend a ton of time together yet.

“I could . . . but I’m out of clean underwear,” she teases, diffusing any awkwardness like she always does.

“Is that so?” I laugh, letting my hand drift down her spine to cup her bare ass. “Sounds like even more of a reason for you to stay.”

Caroline lets out a squeal as she playfully tries to bat my hand away.

But I don’t let up.

I begin to pepper tender kisses along her neck, feeling my cock stiffen because I just can’t seem to get enough of her.

She gives in and sighs against my chest, tilting her head to give me better access.

Just as I’m reaching for the hem of my button down that she slept in, I hear my bedroom door bang against the wall.

“Your daddy must be—”

Caroline freezes against me, her body tensing in my arms like she’s just been caught committing a crime. Unfortunately, if my instincts are right about the person who just walked into my room, the only crime being committed is one over a lack of boundaries.

I stroke Caroline’s arm to relax her.

“I’ll handle this,” I whisper, pushing myself up in bed.

---