Dr. Good by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Fifteen

Macie

“What is it?” I ask when Miller returns from the balcony.

He’s got a grim look on his face, his silver-sparkling cheeks tight with his tension. I lay the breadknife down and place my hands on the kitchen island, a tremor moving through me.

“Is it about him?”

He nods somberly. “I hired someone to look into your apartment.”

“What? How did they do that?”

“He picked the lock,” Miller says. “I know I should’ve gotten the keys, but last night…”

“No, no,” I rush to say. “I don’t care about that. As long as this man can be trusted?”

“He can, he’s very professional. And anyway, if anybody invaded your privacy – especially somebody I hired – I’d break their goddamn legs.”

Liquid heat flows through me, lighting up every part of me, the way it does every time Miller says something like this. The meeting with Kayla has really changed how I see this whole thing, allowing me to put my anxiety aside…

Or at least try to put it aside, instead of willingly throwing myself into paranoia.

“Derrick had your place bugged.” Miller leans against the kitchen island, his muscles throbbing through the fabric of his suit, like any second he could snap. “That bastard has been listening to you. We don’t know how long for.”

“Can we go to the police?”

Miller shrugs. “We can try. But how can we prove he put the devices there?”

“We can’t.” My shoulders drop. “I’m so sick and tired of this freak following me around. All I did was be nice to him a couple of times, talk about books with him. How does that mean I deserve this?”

I try to force the tears away, but they rise unbidden in my eyes, hot and sharp as they flow down my cheeks.

Miller rushes around the kitchen island and pulls me into a hug, his fingers moving with comforting tingles through my hair as he guides my face to his muscled chest.

I grip onto him, feeling how solid his abs are through his shirt.

“This isn’t your fault,” he snarls as his fingers make tingling patterns in my hair, soothing me as the pain tries to make jagged paths through my body. “There’s something wrong with this bastard, Macie. You can’t blame yourself.”

“But why did he have to pick me?” I croak, knowing I sound unhinged but unable to stop myself. “I don’t get it. I’m not… nobody picked me in high school. I wasn’t picked in sports and I was always too nervous to put myself forward in group projects, even in English lit. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I wish I had an answer,” he murmurs, his voice gruff even though it’s quiet. “But that would mean getting inside the head of this sick fuck and that’s something I’m unwilling to do. But you need to know that this isn’t even partly your fault. All the sick things this bastard has done, they’re on him.”

I get myself together, pushing away the tears, and then turn back to the kitchen island where I’ve placed the bread and the sandwich fixings.

“Macie.” He drifts close to me, his hand curling around the back of my neck. “Forget that. Let me take you out to dinner tonight.”

I glance at him, his solid features made blurry by the sudden tears. I wipe at my face and he returns to his normal savage self, his eyes glimmering as he gazes into me, pinning me in place with his possessive eyes.

“Like a date?”

“Not like a date,” he says, smirking away some of my pain. “A date. Me and you. You deserve to be treated like the queen you are. And who knows… maybe it’ll take your mind off this bastard.”

“Are you sure we should be going out with Derrick out there?”

Miller scoffs. “Let him show his face if he’s got the balls. But I don’t think he’d be allowed into the restaurant I plan to take you to, anyway.”

“What restaurant?” I murmur, curious despite myself.

The idea of going out and forgetting about Derrick for a little while appeals massively to me, and doubly so when it means we get to make this official over a meal. If he’s willing to be seen in public with me, surely that means there’s something real happening here, some undeniable heat between us.

Cruel thoughts try to shatter this moment.

My anxiety tells me he’s going to take me out with a gang of his doctor friends so they can all laugh at me.

“What is it?” he says, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Macie.” He grabs my shoulders and looks at me, in a way that compels complete honesty. “You don’t have to hide your feelings from me. Ever.”

“I don’t want to be a blubbery mess all the time, either.”

He grins, flashing his teeth like an animal, and then leans in and places a soft kiss on my cheek. “Maybe I like it when you’re a blubbery mess. Did you ever think of that?”

I giggle and reach up to cup his face, desperate to hold onto him for as long as I can, to prove by his physical closeness that this is real, this is happening.

And I need to stop questioning this.

“Your mom swore on her life, on your life, on your dad this is real. And even if we only spent a little time together, she doesn’t strike me as a dishonest woman.”

“She’s not,” he says firmly. “She was telling you the truth. My mom, Macie, goddamn… she’s the only person in this world who can read me. Well, before you came along.”

“You think I can read you?” I smile.

He nods, playfulness glinting in his eyes as he drinks me in with his gaze. “What am I thinking right now?” he asks.

Whispers of lust coil around my body as his eyes flit down to my breasts.

“Dirty thoughts,” I murmur, voice trembling. “You’re thinking about what we did last night… and what you want to do.”

“Exactly.” He chuckles gruffly. “This is real, Macie. You don’t have to question that anymore. Let me take you out. Forget Derrick. Forget the tears. Let’s just be together.”

I nod, shivers moving through me. “That sounds nice. So what restaurant?”

“Regality,” he says.

I gasp.

“You know it?” he smirks.

“Yeah. My aunt used to go there when huge directors were in town, but only the huge ones. It’s the most expensive, elite restaurant in the city, isn’t it? I thought their waiting list was like a year long.”

He shrugs. “It is. But I know the owner. I helped his daughter a while back. And for a woman like you, I’d be a fool not to pull a few strings.”

Butterflies flutter through my belly at the thought of going to Regality with Miller, the man who was only a fantasy for me until last night, as his date.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” he growls passionately. “Say oh, Miller, I have to find a way to make it up to you.”

I giggle at his bantering tone. “Yes, yes, yes,” I say. “And I will… soon, I’ll—I’ll try to be what you need me to be.”

“Oh, Macie,” he whispers, kissing my forehead with surprising softness. “You already are.”