Page 23 of Dr. Do-Right
“How are you folks doing tonight? Fancy looking party in there!” Our driver grinned at us from the front seat of the black car, a different man than the one who’d dropped me off. Thankfully, he’d been waiting in the Rover in front of the zoo so we could make a quick escape. I wouldn’t put it past my mother to chase me down.
“Great party, yeah. Just happy to be heading home.”
Thwump.
Mal slammed the car door behind us much harder than necessary. A storm cloud seemed to follow him into the dim interior. Our driver’s brows jumped beneath his black ball cap.
“You good?” I reached over to rub Mal’s arm. He’d been silent and tense during our walk to the car, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. The whole night we’d been floating in some sort of fairy tale, hands all over each other, finallytogether. And one run-in with my parents had ruined it all. “Mal, I’m sorry about—”
“Do not. Finish. That. Sentence.” The air around him crackled with a type of angry energy I rarely saw from him. He was Dr. Do-Right. He preached patience, empathy, and understanding.Now, though, the muscles in his jaw clenched. “The only thing you should apologize for is how you…minimize yourself for them.” He rocked back, flattening his body onto the seat as the car pulled away from the curb.
“Mal—”
“You are smart and vibrant and kind and beautiful. There is nothing about you that needs to be smaller. Nothing. Especially not for those people.” His tone, his words, were so intense I had to look away. Our driver also averted his eyes as he wove into traffic, cranking the radio up a few dials to give us a semblance of privacy.
Mal sighed, reaching up to tangle one of my hands in his. “This is coming out all wrong. I’m not mad at you—”
“You’re mad at them. I know. And I…appreciate that.”I love you for that.For standing by my side when I can’t seem to get on my own two feet when my parents are around.I bit my lip to keep the confession in, even though my heart was swelling up like a balloon.
He lifted our hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across my knuckles before resting our entwined fingers on his thigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“That’s alright. It wasn’t even a snap.” Mal and I had been friends for two years, and our emotions tended to run hot around each other. It was hardly the first time one of us had gotten angry with the other.
My thumb stroked his wrist. I wanted to calm him and simultaneously assure myself that he was here and real andmine. I’d wanted him for so long, and now here he was, holding my hand like he’d never let go? Getting pissed off on my behalf and calling me vibrant? It felt like a dream. The confrontation with my parents slid to the back of my mind as I looked at him.
“I also didn’t mean to slam the door so hard.” Mal looked up at the driver. “Sorry about that.”
Our driver waved him off. “All good, buddy.”
“Yeah, all good,” I echoed, rubbing my free hand against his arm, remembering the hundreds of times I’d wanted to do something similar and hadn’t been able to. I relished it now. “Had some big feelings there, huh?”
He rolled his head to the side to give me a dry look. “I hate that they don’t see you the way I see you. I know it hurts you, and that makes me want to murder them.”
“Metaphorically, of course. Manslaughter is illegal.”
“Murder, Kitten, implies intent. I would definitely intend it.”
“Do we think talking about offing my parents is killing the mood a little bit? You know I’m down for a lot of things, but this might cross a line.”
Mal grimaced, sliding his hand down his face before reaching over to smooth the fabric of my skirt over my thigh. A shimmer of heat followed where his fingers trailed. “I cannot believe I finally get to touch you and it’s getting derailed by your fucking parents.”
If only he knew. Maybe I had a lot of practice at compartmentalizing, or maybe I was just used to dealing with their demands, but either way, I was ready to move on to a different topic of conversation.
“Not derailed. I bet you can get us back on track.”
Mal’s dark eyes went nearly black, illuminated by the passing street lights. “Take your dress off and we’ll see how well I can do.”
As soon as the growled suggestion left his lips, an awkward, sputtering throat clearing sounded from the front of the car. I caught the driver’s sheepish look in the rearview mirror while he turned the volume on the radio up a few more notches. Mal’s hand scrubbed down his face again. Poor thing.
“Sorry,” he murmured, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “That was out of line. Do you want to talk about it? Them? I know seeing them can throw you off, do you—”
I pressed a finger to his lips. They were so soft. There were hundreds, thousands of things I preferred he do with his mouth other than discuss the two people who hated me most in the world. “I don’t want to talk about it. Yes, it was horrible timing to see them and yes, it threw me off. But that’s a problem for tomorrow. Tonight,” I slid our hands higher, brushing against the fly of his pants. “I don’t want to think about that.”
Tonight, after keeping my feelings—my lust—under lock and key for months, I didn’t want to waste a single minute concentrating on anything other thanhim.
“Rija,” Mal sighed, cupping my cheek. “You were very brave back there. I know how hard it must be to walk away from them like that. I love your strength.”
“I am very strong. For instance, I can probably support my own body weight for a really long time, if we were to get into any adventurous positions back at your place.”
