Page 1 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

Chapter 1 - Maya

This is officially the worst morning of my life, and I'm counting the time I accidentally shelved the entire young adult section backward and had to stay until 3 AM fixing it. I'm counting the time I found out my college boyfriend was cheating on me with his statistics tutor.

This is a lot worse, because this morning involves a plastic stick with two pink lines, three pregnancy tests from different brands all saying the same thing, and the sudden, sickening realization that I—Maya Sullivan, the woman who color-codes her sock drawer and hasn't missed a day of vitamins since 2018—am pregnant by a man who might not even exist.

"Breathe," I whisper to myself, gripping the bathroom sink. My reflection stares back at me, dark circles under my eyes, hair piled in a messy bun that's more "slept like garbage" than "effortlessly tousled."

It's been exactly twenty-nine days since Lisa, my best friend, dragged me to Finch's Bar downtown, insisting that I needed to "live a little" after two years of shuttling between the library and my dad's empty cottage. Twenty-nine days since I met him. Twenty-nine days since I did something completely out of character and took a gorgeous man home.

Daniel Morrison. At least, that's what he said his name was.

I splash cold water on my face, trying to shock myself out of this nightmare. But when I look up, I'm still me, still pregnant, still completely, utterly screwed.

My phone buzzes on the counter. It's Lisa, because of course it is.

*Did you take the test?* her text reads.

I snap a photo of all three tests lined up on the sink and send it without comment.

Three dots appear immediately. Then: *HOLY SHIT*

Then: *What are you going to do?*

The million-dollar question. What am I going to do? I'm twenty-five, living in my dead father's house, with student loans that make me nauseous every time I think about them, and a job that, while I love it, pays just enough to keep me treading water. I have exactly $1412 in my savings account. I have no partner, no support system beyond Lisa and my elderly silver-haired neighbor, Mrs. Gunderson, who brings me homemade dumplings on Sundays.

What I do have is a name—possibly fake—and the knowledge that he works at Cedar Falls General Hospital. Or claimed to.

*I'm going to find him,* I type back.

My phone rings instantly.

"Maya, wait," Lisa says when I answer. "Think about this. The guy ghosted you. Complete radio silence for a month. Do you really want to track him down?"

"What choice do I have?" I snap, then immediately feel guilty. "Sorry. I'm just... freaking out."

"I know, honey. I'm coming over."

"No," I say, more firmly than I intend. "No, I need to do this now, before I lose my nerve. If I wait, I'll talk myself out of it."

Lisa sighs. "At least let me come with you."

"You have that big catalog meeting today. I'll be fine." I try to sound more confident than I feel. "I'm just going to confirm he actually works there. Maybe peek at him from afar. I'm notplanning to march up and announce my pregnancy in the middle of the emergency room."

Though the mental image is somewhat satisfying.

"Text me updates. Every fifteen minutes, or I'm calling the police," Lisa insists.

"Deal."

I hang up and stare at myself in the mirror again. I look exactly the same as I did yesterday, but everything has changed. The universe has tilted on its axis, and I'm hanging on by my fingernails.

Twenty minutes later, I'm dressed in my most professional-looking outfit—a navy pencil skirt and cream blouse that says "I have my life together" instead of "I just found out I'm pregnant with a stranger's baby." My hands shake as I twist my hair into a neat bun and slide on my glasses. The librarian armor, Dad used to call it.

I take a deep breath and grab my car keys. The drive to Cedar Falls General is only fifteen minutes, but it feels like crossing an ocean. My ancient Toyota protests as I push it up the hill that leads to the hospital, as if it knows this is a terrible idea.

The parking garage is packed, of course. I circle for what feels like hours before finding a spot on the roof level, about as far from the entrance as physically possible. Figured.

Walking toward the hospital's main entrance, I rehearse what I'm going to say. *Hi, I'm looking for Dr. Daniel Morrison? No, too direct. Excuse me, could you tell me if Dr. Morrison is working today? I need to speak with him about a... personal matter.*

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