Touch And Go - Aiden Bates Page 0,28
of me? He was a stranger with a boyfriend. Off-limits. I shrugged and stacked his plate on top of mine. “I just like to help people and I care about my patients.”
His lips turned down and he sounded insolent. “Sure thing, doc.”
I bit back the hurt and reminded myself not to care so much as I reached over to collect his empty plate. He pulled away, like he was worried I was going to accidentally touch him. That’s right. He was hurt. Of course, he was moody. I could be patient with that.
“Speaking of caring about my patients…” I paused halfway to the sink. “Before you take a nap, I’d like to check your wrist. We might need to re-bandage it.”
He looked me over and wet his lips. “Playing doctor is one of my favorite fantasies.”
My cheeks burned, and heat prickled up my arms before I pulled myself together and snapped out of it. I didn’t usually date guys who were so much younger than me, not by virtue of age, but because of the differences in values, and we didn’t exactly hang around the same places so opportunities to meet up were limited. Kids like Sebastian just wanted to party. Plus, Seb was in trouble, and given the way he’d accused me of being a “white knight,” he was also immature.
But my attraction knew no such restriction and pulsed straight to my cock.
I grabbed my bag from where I’d dumped it by the front door and motioned for Seb to join me in the living room. He got up without complaint, but he moved slowly, and I had my equipment unpacked on the coffee table before he made it over. He yawned loudly and drowned out the sound of his heart through my stethoscope. I gave him a look and he grinned apologetically, then pressed a finger against his lips like he was sealing them shut. His pulse was a little quick and grew quicker when I double-checked the timing with two fingers pressed against his wrist, but nothing pathological beyond a moderate anxiety.
“Your vitals are fine, no injuries but the sprain, and I believe a good night’s sleep will take care of any residual effects of your concussion. How does your head feel?” I palpated his skull gently but couldn’t feel any bumps or injuries.
“Sore, but better for the food.”
“Good. I’d like to check your lungs, in case those breathing issues aren't solely relative to your panic attacks. Could you lift your shirt?”
He paused and grinned slyly before yanking his shirt over his head. My breath snagged. His body was beautiful, with a soft layer of flesh over his tapering ribcage and prominent collarbones. There was a dip just below his xiphoid process—the bottom edge of his sternum—and I badly wanted to press my thumb to the divot there, sure it would be a perfect fit. Tiny tacky bits of stickiness from the ECG pads still clung to his chest, but otherwise his skin was flawless and pale, like raw porcelain before it hit the kiln. I blew a hot breath of air onto the cold pad of the stethoscope while he watched my mouth from behind heavy eyelids.
He has a boyfriend.
I bit back the desire to touch his torso and pressed the pad against it instead. He flinched, and I caught his eye.
“Cold? Sorry.”
“S’okay.” He wet his lips and dipped his head so that he could catch my eyes and drag them up from his collarbone. I let my gaze be led. I was completely in his control. He lowered his voice, and it rumbled through his chest. I felt the sound deep in my belly. “What do you want me to do? Just, like, breathe?”
I took a shaky breath and pulled the stethoscope away. I needed to be professional. “Turn around for me.”
“Yes, doctor!” He spun away and sat straight. His back was just as beautiful as his front, and I quickly pressed the stethoscope to stop myself from touching him. My lips tingled, and I wanted to kiss the freckles splattered across his shoulders and the curve of his thoracic spine that projected out just below his neck.
Boyfriend!
I pulled back and cleared my throat.
“All good?” He looked over his shoulder and his long, doe-length eyelashes caught the light.
“All good.” I took the earpieces out. “I almost forgot to tell you, but your brother and your boyfriend were at the hospital last night, asking about you.”
He stiffened and then faced away again. “I don’t have a