Page 4 of Dr. Do-Right
“This…this man?” I watched as he laughed at something an interviewer said, gesturing with his hands as he discussed tips for maintaining intimacy in long-term relationships.
“Yes! That is my brother.”
“Y-you…look nothing alike!” It was the only thing that came to my mind, other than,oh, God, her brother is hot.
“We’re both adopted, Carrie,” she droned, referencing a truly dimwitted woman from our nursing program. We’d taken to calling each other by her name when we did or said particularly dumb shit. It wasn’t often, thankfully.
“I know but… I just don’t get why you didn’t say anything till now?”
I’d known she had a brother, of course. I’d known her for four years, lived with her for three. She had a mom and a dad and a brother, all of whom still lived in Colorado. She dutifully flew to see them on major holidays. I’d waved to her parents on FaceTime before, but, come to think of it, she always took calls from her brother in another room. Sus.
“Exactly because of this.” She snatched the phone away, shutting the video off. “Listen, I’ve been told that he’s hot.” She pretended to gag. “Sometime around high school, I realized all my friends were, like, totally gaga over him, which is gross. Once I got to college, whenever he visited or met my friends, it was like they fell under his spell.”
I frowned, eyeing my phone. It wasn’t beneath her to unlock it and set my home screen to a picture of her butt, or something. I’d have to grab it back soon. “Well, that sucks, but it doesn’t—”
She held up a finger. “I’m not done. Christine, my roommate freshman year? Wouldn’t stop asking me to set them up. She followed us to dinner one night when he was in town. Literally stalked him. Still texts me sometimes about him.”
“Okay, that’s crazy, but—”
“Naomi, my high school friend, always wanted to hang out when I went back home from college, but ditched me constantly to hang out with him instead.”
I winced, starting to get the picture. “Yikes.”
“He actually dated my friend Jess, just before I met you. It was bad. So bad. When he dumped her, she barged into my biology class and started screaming at me. She was my best friend, and she totally lost her shit over him.”
“Fuck, Sonnie, I’m so sorry.” I rubbed my thumb across her hand. That sucked. Big. My bestie talked a big, loud, confident game, but I knew she was more sensitive than she let on. Herfriends and her family were her entire world. Having so many of them abandon her for her brother must have been horrible. My heart broke a little for her. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
She sighed. “I was scared. You’re like my BFF soulmate, Rija. I couldn’t stand to lose you, too.”
“Hun.” I pulled her up from her chair into a hug. “You’ll never lose me. You’re my best friend.”
“He’s coming into town this weekend, and he wants to see my apartment. And meet you. I’m fine with it, now, but…Rija you have to promise.”
“I promise.” I said, without needing to clarify what the promise was. Sonnie was my soul sister, more family to me than my actual family was. Whatever she needed, I’d make it happen.
“I’m serious. Please, just…stay away from my brother. Hands off, you know?”
“Sonnie. I swear. I will not touch your brother. Now give me my phone back.”
I was familiar with Dr. Do-Right.Malachi. A couple’s and family counselor who’d ridden the social media wave to become one of the most famous therapists in the world. Like, celebrity status. I wouldn’t say he was Dr. Phil or anything, but he wasn’t far off, and it was easy to tell why.
Besides promoting his feel-good platform of doing right by other people and yourself, the man oozed sex appeal, especially when he was dishing out scintillating bedroom advice and winking at the camera. Despite his rising popularity, he still managed to keep an air of humility about him. Top the whole package off with his doctoral degree from Yale and legitimate counseling chops? Consider my panties practically dropped.
But no longer. I was shutting down that train of thought before it left the station.
I did my research in preparation for his visit. Watched his videos—all of them, even the ones from a few years ago withbad lighting. I’d acclimated to his deep-set, piercing black eyes. Those high cheekbones and the Romanesque nose, covered in smooth, olive skin. Dark swaths of hair that hung nearly down to his chin.
I’d even cranked the audio, inoculating myself against his smooth, intellectual timbre as I listened to his closing tagline again and again, “Remember, if you’re going to do anything, try and do right.”
I’d thought I was prepared.
I was wrong.
Nothing can prepare you for Dr. Malachi Dobrev. Not when he’s standing in front of you, in the flesh.
“Rija. You’re the one keeping my little sis in line, huh? I’m Malachi.”
His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he stood in our entryway, framed by the front door. His fingers were warm as they wrapped around mine. Nearly hot, like vitality was leaking out of his pores. His teeth were straight. Shiny. I wanted to know what they’d feel like sinking into my skin.
