Page 73 of Privileged (Adrenalin)

In the three days since I last saw Carter, I’ve struck an agreement with Dr. Malcom about using his extra space, filed the paperwork to start my new practice, and started sourcing the equipment I’ll need. I still need to figure out what I’m going to do to market the business, but since word of mouth goes a long way in this town I’m not overly concerned. Best of all, as soon as the equipment gets here, I can start taking clients.

None of this would be possible if I weren’t sharing administrative resources with Dr. Malcom, so I’m eternally grateful to Beck for pointing me in this direction. Not only has it cut down my startupcosts, it allows me to hit the ground running since there’s no need to evaluate and then learn the best software applications to help manage scheduling, billing and insurance.

After hearing all the things Ally had to do to open her boutique, I know exactly how lucky I am to have this opportunity, and even though I’ve been keeping busy as a way to ignore the hole in my chest, there’s a part of me that’s genuinely excited for what comes next.

“Do you have an estimated delivery time for the shipment arriving Monday?” Carol, the cheery receptionist, asks me. At first, I thought her demeanor was an attempt to pull me from my obvious funk, one which the whole town has likely heard about by now, but no—she’s just a happy person.

“They said nine, but I plan to get here around eight just in case.”

“Mondays are half-off muffins at Sugar Shack, do you have a favorite you want me to pick up for you?”

Another perk of sharing this office is the food Carol brings in just to make sure Dr. Malcom doesn’t forget to eat. If I’m not careful, I’ll be going up a few sizes from the goodies alone.

“No, not really.”

“Surprise you, got it.” She beams, which has me smiling in return.Seriously, the woman’s so full of cheer my face hurts by the end of the day even though half the time I want to curl into a ball and cry. And I never cry. Usually.

“See you Monday.” I let myself out and start the short walk home, doing my best to avoid eye contact without appearing rude.

While no one has asked about it outright, it’s clear from the empathetic glances that people know Carter and I are no longer an item. What’s less clear is whether they know the truth or they’re speculating about why we aren’t together. Either way, I don’t want to talk about it, and if I look like I’m in a hurry it’s less likely someone will stop me to chat. And if I don’t stop to chat, no one will say they’re sorry, which in turn means I won’t think about Carter.

About how I miss his warm body pressed against mine when we sleep, even though I only got to do that a handful of times.

And how he makes me feel special when he trusts me with his innermost thoughts and plans.

Even how I really admire him for what he wants to do with the resort, and the town, despite the fact those plans are ultimately what keeps us apart.

Stop it Sloan. The whole point of avoiding people is to keep Carter off the brain. Think about work.

My steps falter as I turn onto the front walkway and find Carter sitting on the porch, arms braced on his knees. His suit jacket hangs limply off the arm of the bench, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and tie loose around his neck. A faint sheen of moisture glistens on his brow in the afternoon light. To me, he’s never looked hotter.

The distance between us shrinks in slow motion as my legs tentatively carry me forward.What is he doing here? Has he forgiven me for leaving?

“Hi,” he says when I reach the front step, and just the deep timber of his voice has me fighting to stay still instead of jumping into his lap.

God, I’ve missed him.

“Hi.”

“Got a minute?” He straightens and pats the empty spot on the bench next to him.

My head and my heart are still debating what to do as my feet bring me to him. “How was the meeting?” I lower myself stiffly.

“The board liked my plans for the new winter terrain, though I think they liked the idea of the bike park even more. An extra ten weeks of revenue is hard to object to when we already have the bulk of the infrastructure for taking bikes up the mountain.” He gives me a tentative smile.

I return it without a second thought. Leaving might have made things awkward between us but given the outcome I know it was the right call. For him and the town.

“You have a good plan. I’m glad they approve.”

His nod is so slight I almost don’t catch it. “They also approve of us.”

“Us?” I blink.

“Dating, working together, all of it. No conditions.”

“Why would you tell them about us?” My brows pull together as my head drifts from side-to-side. “There was no need.”

“Of course, there was. I told you from the beginning I wouldn’t let things between us impact your job, and I meant it.”

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