Page 5 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

I grab my cold coffee and head back into the fray, but Maya's face stays with me, hovering at the edges of my consciousness like a ghost I can't quite shake.

Chapter 3 - Maya

I make it to my car before the tears come.

They're hot and sudden, spilling down my cheeks as I grip the steering wheel like it's the only solid thing in my tilting world. I don't even know why I'm crying. Relief that he's real? Anger that he's so infuriatingly handsome even in wrinkled scrubs? Fear of the impossible choices ahead of me?

All of it, probably.

"Get it together, Maya," I whisper, wiping my face with the back of my hand. The dashboard clock tells me I have exactly seven minutes to pull myself together before my lunch break ends.

I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror—red eyes, flushed cheeks, mascara smudged beneath my lower lashes. Great. I look exactly like someone who just confronted their one-night stand with a positive pregnancy test. I rummage through my purse for tissues and do my best to repair the damage, but there's no fixing the hollow feeling in my chest.

Daniel's face when he saw that test. I've never seen someone go so pale so quickly. For a moment, I thought he might actually pass out, and some vindictive part of me was glad. Let him feel a fraction of the shock I felt this morning.

But then... he said he'd support me. Whatever I decide. The words sounded rehearsed, clinical—the kind of thing doctors are trained to say to patients in crisis. But at least he said them.

My phone buzzes with a text from Lisa: *WELL??*

*He's real. A real doctor. We talked. Will call you later.*

I start the car and pull out of the parking garage, my mind replaying our conversation on a loop. The way he stumbled over his explanations. The genuine regret in his eyes when heapologized for not calling. The way he remembered where I work.

None of that changes the fact that he disappeared without a word after one of the most intimate nights of my life. None of it changes the fact that I'm carrying his child.

His child. Our child.

The thought sends a fresh wave of panic through me. I'm not ready for this. I'm still trying to figure out who I am after Dad died, still trying to build a life that feels like mine and not just the hollow shell he left behind. How can I possibly be responsible for another human being?

But then, as I stop at a red light, another thought surfaces: maybe this is exactly what I need. Someone to care for. Someone who will love me unconditionally. Someone who will never leave.

I shake my head. That's not fair to place on an unborn child. That's not a reason to become a mother.

The light turns green, and I drive toward the library, forcing myself to breathe slowly. One step at a time. I'll get through this afternoon's children's reading hour. I'll catalog the new mythology section. I'll do my job, and tonight, I'll think about what comes next.

But for now, I just need to survive the day.

A few hours later

The library closes at eight on Thursdays. As usual, I'm the last one out, taking my time locking up after shooing the final stragglers toward the exit. There's something peaceful about an empty library—all those stories tucked away for the night, waiting patiently to be discovered tomorrow.

Tonight, though, the silence feels oppressive. My thoughts are too loud, bouncing off the quiet stacks, echoing through the empty reading rooms. I've been running on autopilot all afternoon, my body going through the motions while my mind spins in useless circles.

I step outside into the cool evening air, fishing my keys from my purse as I descend the wide stone steps. The parking lot is nearly empty—just my Toyota, Mrs. Hendricks' ancient Buick, and...

A sleek, gunmetal gray Audi that definitely doesn't belong in Cedar Falls.

Leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest, is Daniel.

I stop. He looks different than he did this morning—showered, changed into dark jeans and a forest green henley that makes his eyes appear even greener. His hair is still damp, curling slightly at the ends. He's traded exhaustion for alertness, and the effect is... disconcerting.

This is the Daniel I met at the bar. The one who smiled at me across a crowded room and made me feel like the only woman in the world.

He straightens when he sees me, pushing away from the car. "Maya."

"Are you stalking me now?" I ask, but there's no real bite to my words. I'm too tired for anger.

"No, I—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I wanted to talk. Properly. Without me being half-dead from exhaustion or you needing to rush back to work."

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