Page 21 of Wild

Mia watches, staring at the strands of hair that fall loose around the doctor's face as she looks down at her notepad, focused, that pen cap still between her teeth — the one Miafeels a sudden urge to take out with her own. She's just realized the doctor is attractive without even trying; she doesn't do anything specific to get Mia's attention, because Mia likes everything about her — from the wavy hair that looks completely untameable under that clip to the leather bracelets stacked along her wrist.

"Is there anything else that isn't negotiable?" The question sounds innocent, but the playful, teasing tone Mia uses makes it very clear she's going somewhere else with it.

Erin glances up slightly and pulls the pen cap out of her mouth to set it back on the pen.

"Anything you do that affects your condition. None of it will be."

Mia keeps the knowing smile on her face, props her elbow on the armrest, rests her cheek against her hand, watching the doctor. It's a look that always works on her; most women fall apart when she looks at them that way. But Erin glances at her for a second and goes right back to the notepad, ignoring her completely.

"Why don't you let your hair down?" Mia asks suddenly.

Erin barely lifts her head — and finds those blue eyes locked on hers. For just a moment, her pulse kicks up. She knows exactly what game Mia is playing, and that her main goal is to get her into bed, the way she probably does with any woman she finds remotely attractive. She's done a little research; it seemed like the reasonable thing to do before spending four months with someone on tour, and if there's one result that dominates when you type her name into a search engine, it's Mia Wilder and her lovers. The singer is openly gay, and despite being only twenty-six, she's been photographed with dozens of women. Erin is clear on the fact that no matter how appealing the idea might be in some abstract way, she's not about to become another name on that long list of the singer's passing interests.

"There are a few things I want to go over with you. We could use the flight if that works for you," Erin says, ignoring her completely.

Mia leans forward, elbows on her knees, closing the distance — but the doctor doesn't move a muscle when the singer whispers.

"One of these days, Dooley, I'll be the one letting your hair down."

Erin looks at her. She'll admit the girl knows how to work it, because in any other context and set of circumstances, she'd already have her sitting in her lap and would be doing her best to kiss the life out of her and quiet the pull she can feel going off, sharp and direct, between her legs.

"Let me give you some advice, Wilder," Erin murmurs back — though she doesn't lean forward, because that's exactly what Mia wants.

"Please." The corner of the singer's mouth curves up slightly.

"Don't waste your energy on me. The only thing that interests me about you is that you don't pass out again. Beyond that, any attempt to seduce me is a waste of your time and mine — and I like to spend mine on things that actually matter to me."

Mia's crooked smile disappears all at once and she sits back. She feels suddenly embarrassed, and she'll admit — a little stung. She's not used to being turned down, and it lands harder than she expected. But she knows how to respect a boundary. She's tried more than once now, and Erin hasn't just failed to respond — she's made it very clear, and fairly gently, that Mia shouldn't push any further.

"I'm sorry if I made things weird or made you uncomfortable," she says.

This is, without a doubt, the first time Mia surprises her — because when Erin looks at her, the girl seems to mean it. There's no trace of the smug smile or the penetrating stare;if anything, there's a slight flush across her cheeks, and for a moment Erin wonders if she came down too hard on her. But she's sure it's the right call. If she doesn't draw the line now, things could get uncomfortable fast, and she needs to stay focused on managing the singer's condition — not let her mind drift toward wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

"It's fine, Wilder. You didn't bother me. But it's better to be upfront from the start, don't you think?"

Mia nods, and Erin watches her swallow.

"Yeah, of course. No problem. What did you want to know?"

"I'll walk you through the plan I have in mind, and then you can tell me if we need to adjust anything."

Mia needs a lot of adjusting — just not that kind. But she's not going to say that now, because her options are crystal clear.

"I'm all yours."

Erin glances up from her notepad for just a second, then looks back down, feeling Mia's blue eyes burning into her skin like there's actual heat behind them — even though the singer has switched the flirting off completely.

"Three meals a day. Breakfast before ten in the morning when possible, lunch between one and three, and dinner at least three hours before you go to sleep."

"What if I don't go to sleep?" Mia asks.

"You will," Erin says — and Mia feels a jolt of electricity run up the inside of her thighs that she has absolutely no control over. "I don't care what you eat as long as it's real food and not junk from a vending machine," the doctor continues.

"What if I don't like it and throw it all up?"

Now it's Erin who leans forward slightly. She's not sure if Mia is being serious or if this kind of provocation is just her way of deflecting after what happened a minute ago.

"If you're throwing up, you tell me — and I'll run so many labs on you that you'll never want to do it again."