“Better than you,” she parrots slowly.
I nod, looking down at my feet. “I’m older than you, and I’m not very fun, and I’m learning that I’m entirely too possessive, and . . . Look at you.” I gesture to all of her. “You’re funny, and bright, and everyone loves you. I mean, they call me the damned Boogeyman of Denver General, for fuck’s sake.”
“Noah—” she starts, but I can’t seem to stop talking now.
“The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you, but I knew you would dive in headfirst to fight this thing, and I couldn’t risk you throwing everything away. Not for me. Because you might not regret it today, or tomorrow, but one day . . . you’d resent me for it. And I would deserve it. It felt like that future would be a lot more painful for you than ending things here. I thought . . .” I breathe in deep, blowing it out as I finally lift my head to meet her eyes. “I thought it would be easier for you to just forget me before I had the chance to hurt you even more.”
She doesn’t say anything for a long time, the seconds ticking by as we both just stare at each other. I can’t fathom what she might have to say to all that, but I’m preparing myself for the worst.
She shakes her head. “You’re right.”
I feel defeat weighing down on my shoulders. “I know,” I say dejectedly. “I understand if you—”
“I would have dived in headfirst to fight this,” she interrupts, and I forget what I was about to say. “Not just for me, but for you too.”
I feel stunned all over again. “What?”
“Noah,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re not as bad as you want people to believe. You’re a good doctor, and a good person, and you make me laugh . . . even if you don’t mean to. You’re not a boogeyman of anything. You’re just a big stupid genius with good intentions and bad execution.”
“I am?”
“Yeah,” she says wearily. “Yeah, that’s what I’m starting to realize.”
“I really thought I was doing the best thing for you,” I offer feebly.
She nods. “But you understand why it wasn’t now. Right?”
“Yes,” I answer softly. “I think I do.”
“You said you cared about me,” she says with an unreadable expression.
I suck in a breath. “I do.”
“Why?”
“Because . . .” I falter, not because I don’t know the answer, but because I am having trouble finding the right words. “Because when I’m with you . . . I don’t feel like I’m just going through the motions in life. When I’m with you . . . I feel like I’m actually living.”
Her lip trembles, but that’s the only thing she gives me before she clears her throat. She nods her head slowly, and then she takes me completely by surprise when her lips curl ever so slightly. “That was dangerously close to poetry, Noah Taylor.”
I perk up, feeling hope spark in my chest. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. “It was pretty terrible.”
She taps her foot idly, still studying me. “You really did hurt me.”
“I know,” I tell her, feeling that pang of guilt tear through me. “I’m so sorry, Mackenzie.”
She’s not smiling anymore, her nose wrinkled in thought and her eyes moving over my face. I count ten seconds, and then twenty more—each one agonizing as I wait for her to either give me another chance or walk out of my life for good. I know for certain which option I deserve, in any case.
“Yeah, well,” she says finally, huffing out a breath and pressing her fists to her hips. “You’re definitely going to make it up to me.”
That tiny flame of hope is back, threatening to climb higher. “I am?”
“Obviously,” she snorts. “You’re going to be groveling for a very long time, Dr. Taylor.”
I can’t help it. My lips twitch. “A very long time?”
“Years, maybe,” she says in that same grumbling tone. “I’m talking about soup on demand. Chain orgasms. More of that terrible poetry. I haven’t decided.”
“I can manage that,” I say, feeling a blinding, happy feeling swelling inside. “I can grovel for the rest of my life.”
This makes her suck in a breath, her expression softening a fraction as she bites her lip. “I’m going to be a pain,” she tells me.
“It’s fine,” I assure her, taking a small, careful step to close the distance between us. “I’m an expert at being insufferable.”
“And I’m going to get scared sometimes,” she barrels on.
“I can be there to make sure it doesn’t last,” I promise, closing the gap another inch.
Her fists slide from her hips to let her arms hang at her sides, her eyes fixed on mine. “And you can’t ever leave.”
“I never wanted to in the first place,” I say, my fingers reaching to curl gently around her arms. “I never want to leave you ever again.”
“And if you ever—”
I can’t wait another second, my mouth crashing against hers as I pull her into me. She melts into it like she’s been waiting for it as desperately as I have, her fingers gripping my shirt as she tries to pull me closer. My lips move against hers roughly as my tongue dips inside her mouth, my hands sliding over her arms and her shoulders and up her neck until my fingers tangle in her hair.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe between kisses. “I’m so sorry.”
“Groveling,” she gasps. “Lots of groveling.”
I smile against her mouth as my hands slide down her spine. “I don’t have any soup, but . . . I can probably start on that list.”
“Well, if you think you have t—ah.”
I pull her up into my arms as my mouth covers hers again, practically sprinting down the opposite hall toward my bedroom, afraid that if I waste another second she might disappear. That I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream. Her hands are under my shirt, tearing at the fabric so hard in her attempt to get it off me that she almost rips it.
I drop her on the bed and finish the task for her, tossing my shirt somewhere on the floor before pushing up hers to press kisses to her ribs. She smells so good, so fucking sweet—all of it so much more intoxicating at this moment after thinking that I would never experience it again. I shove at her bra roughly so I can mouth at the soft underside of her breast, nipping gently with my teeth as she squirms in my hands.
I’m pulling her scrub top off her arms, tossing it over my shoulder as I bring my attention back to the swell of her breasts spilling from the top of her bra. The taste of her skin is as honeyed as her scent, and I think if given the chance I could spend hours tasting every inch of her, if she let me. I only pull away when she reaches between us to flick at a little plastic piece between her breasts, grinning at what is surely an awestruck expression on my face when the cups fall aside to bare everything to me.
“Front clasp,” she chuckles.
I duck my head to twirl her nipple with my tongue, murmuring into her skin, “Fucking genius.”
“Noah,” she gasps when I suck her into my mouth.