Page 12 of Resisting the Handsome Doctor
"Anything."
"Are you drunk? Even a little bit?"
He doesn't laugh this time. "Stone cold sober. Unfortunately."
"Unfortunately?"
"It would be easier to blame the whiskey." He leans forward. "But the truth is, I've been wanting to say all of this for fifteen years. The only difference is tonight, I finally have the guts to actually do it."
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. "This is crazy."
"Completely."
"We barely know each other."
"I know. We should fix that."
"Owen—"
"One night, Ivy. Give me one night. We'll go to this terrible reunion, we'll suffer through bad music and worse small talk, and we'll get to know each other. The real versions. Not the fantasy, not the memory. Just us." He extends his hand again. "And if by the end of the night you think I'm crazy, if you want nothing to do with me, I'll leave. I'll go back to the city and I won't bother you again. But at least give me the chance."
I look at his hand. At his face. At those warm brown eyes behind simple glasses, looking at me like I'm the only person in the world.
This is the moment. The choice.
I can say no. I can protect myself. I can go home to my quiet house and my predictable life and I'll be safe. Invisible. Exactly what I've always been.
Or I can say yes.
I think about the girl I used to be. The one who read romance novels and dreamed about someone seeing her. The one who drew hearts in margins and believed, despite everything, that maybe love was real.
I think about Levi, who's been telling me for years to stop hiding.
I think about Owen, standing in the rain to look at my car engine even though he was dressed for a reunion. Owen, who kept my book for fifteen years. Owen, who looked for me every time he came home.
Maybe he is crazy.
Maybe I'm crazy too.
I reach out and take his hand.
"Okay," I say, my voice shaking. "One night. But I reserve the right to bail if this gets too weird."
"Deal." He stands, pulling me up with him. "Fair warning: it's probably going to get weird. I have very limited social skills when I'm nervous."
"You're a doctor. You talk to people all day."
"Yeah, but they're patients. I know what to say to patients. 'Does this hurt?' 'Take two of these.' 'Stop eating garbage and you won't feel like garbage.'" He's still holding my hand, and he doesn't seem inclined to let go. "Beautiful women I've been hung up on for fifteen years? No idea what to say."
"You're doing fine so far," I manage.
"Yeah?"
"Well, you haven't scared me off yet."
"The night is young." He grins, then glances toward the hallway where music is still thumping from the event room. "Ready to face the masses?"
"Absolutely not."
