Page 33 of The Fall
She smirked at me and grabbed my arm. “Do you really think it’s Grant?”
“Isn’t it?” I said, trying my best to conceal my concern. I didn’t want her to see how bitter I was. She had dealt with enough when I came back from college. She knew from experience how risky it was to put your heart out there. Her personal life had been no picnic. “Be happy, little sister. You deserve it. But you know…be careful, too.”
“I will. Not much I can do at this point. I’m with Grant,” she said quickly as I saw a small amount of fear cross her face.
“It scares me, too, but enjoy him. I’m behind you. And I want to meet him,” I said sternly. If some stoner creeper was claiming love for my sister in less than a month, I had the right to question their sanity.
“Soon,” she said with a smile as she adjusted her backpack on her shoulder.
“Get to school, Whitaker. We have a practice to open.”
She gave me her widest smile before she walked away. “Love you.”
I walked onto Dean’s floor the next day after rounds and caught him in between appointments.
“Dallas, hey,” he greeted me with a smile. “I was just going to buzz you and see if you still wanted to have lunch.”
I took a step forward, not wanting the three women sitting in chairs in the waiting room to hear us. Although I was sure with the attention Dean garnered in any room he occupied, they were straining to hear.
“Do you have time for coffee now?” I asked icily. He frowned at my temperament, then nodded quickly, heading down the hall as I followed. He entered a tiny break room that furnished a small table with coffee and closed the door behind us.
“Do you still take it black?” he asked, pouring a cup and holding it out to me.
“No thanks. Look, Dean, I need to know why you’re here. Why you came back, and why you’re acting so damn …”
“What?” he asked carefully.
“Weird?” I said, uncertain.
“Is that a question, Dallas?” he said, taking a sip of the cup he extended to me and putting his other hand in his pocket. I followed his hand and caught myself eyeing the bulge in his pants. I expelled a harsh breath and averted my eyes, but it was too late. He set the cup down and took a step forward.
“Weird, hmmm,” he said, taking another step forward. “Last time I saw you—”
“We aren’t talking about then,” I snapped.
“Aren’t we?” he stated as he took another step forward.
“You can’t be serious,” I said, taking a step back toward the door.
“Why not? You’re the one who said the words,” he said, reaching me as he cupped my chin, trailing his thumb across my cheek and over my lips. I parted them in surprise as he licked his.
“I was twenty and naïve. You can’t hold that against me,” I defended weakly.
He took another menacing step forward, so I was backed against the door. Jesus, even having coffee with him wasn’t safe.
“Your fiancée,” I protested as he inched closer to me, and his eyes zeroed in on my lips.
“Is my fiancée no longer, and lives in New York. It was over months ago,” he said, his thumb still stroking my face.
Why hadn’t he told me?
“And so now, because you’re here and it’s convenient for you, you think you can just…oh, I don’t know, fuck me up against a door? I’m involved with another man. Get your hands off of me.”
He jumped at my order, apologizing as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I’m sorry, that was a dick move.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t surprise me.” I flinched at my own words and, in turn, apologized to him. “Look, I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to happen. Whatever the hell you’re thinking isn’t going to come to fruition.”