few goons were all standing around me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, rubbing my forehead.
“You passed out, babe,” Louie answered.
“You went down like a sack of potatoes,” Rourke stated.
The more they talked, the more my memories came back to me. I'd been heading to get coffee from the kitchen. I'd been in the dining room about to eat breakfast. Shit, I didn’t eat. When was the last time I ate? Damnit! This was freshman year at Trinity during finals week all over again. I'd gone days without eating because I'd been stressed about passing my classes, and I'd almost fainted. I guess this time I actually did. Great. Just great.
I tried to sit up only to get pushed down by Stefan.
“I know this looks bad but I’m fine. I just need to eat—”
“No. Stay down until the doctor gets here,” Stefan ordered, his tone brooking no argument.
“Maybe you should move her somewhere a little more private until then,” my aunt suggested. Bless her. I was not enjoying the audience.
“Let’s take her to my study,” Stefan agreed, exchanging a look with Jamie.
Jamie nodded and scooped me up into his arms. I let out a frustrated sigh. I was fine. Well, if you didn’t count the mind splitting headache and feeling shaky. If I ate a PB&J, I would be back to normal, not that I could convince them of that. I had no choice but to ride this out and see this doctor they called. Pouting, I mourned my breakfast left behind in the dining room. “I really wanted my bacon and hash browns. It’s why I ordered extra,” I told Jamie as he carried me to Stefan’s study. “Maybe we can ask someone to bring—”
“Let’s see what the doctor has to say first,” Stefan snapped.
Jamie laid me down on the couch. I got into a seated position. Thankfully, they didn’t protest. Jamie took a seat next to me on the couch and with Stefan leaning against the front of his desk, we waited.
Embarrassingly, my stomach growled loudly multiple times as the three of us sat there. Jamie’s phone beeped a few agonizing minutes later. I about cried with joy when he told us the doctor was at the gate.
“I know me passing out was scary and I’m very sorry to cause you both to worry, but I promise I’m going to be fine. If I just eat something—”
“You’re seeing the doctor, Maura,” Stefan said.
“I’m fine with seeing the doctor. That’s not what I’m trying to say. I’m hungry. You ever reach the point of hunger where you’d stab someone for a cheeseburger? Well, gentlemen, I’m starting to feel stabby.”
They both ignored me until the doctor walked in with Louie leading the way. The doctor was unexpectedly young. For some reason, I was imagining an old man looking like Santa Claus who did house calls with a black leather medical bag. This guy, however, was in his mid-to-late thirties, was covered in tattoos, had long golden hair tied at his neck, and was carrying a duffel bag. Hello, Doctor. He was fine. His skin was tan with a golden hue and he had caramel colored eyes. Don’t get me started on the muscles. He was bulkier than Jamie and had the perkiest ass. I was awestruck.
“Ben, thank you for coming so quickly,” Stefan greeted the doctor, shaking his hand.
“You’re drooling, baby,” Jamie whispered in my ear. I turned to find him smirking. Oops.
“Jealous, baby?” I teased him.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, he walked away to go greet Dr. Ben. Louie took Jamie’s spot next to me and threw an arm over my shoulders to offer comfort.
“Louie said someone fainted?” Dr. Ben inquired, looking between Stefan and Jamie.
“My daughter,” Stefan confirmed, gesturing to me. Dr. Ben gave me a dazzling smile. Oh, jeez. If I hadn't been completely consumed by everything that was Jamie, I might have blushed.
“Do you get fainting spells a lot?” he asked, kneeling in front of me. He sat down his duffel bag on the floor next to him and pulled out a blood pressure cuff along with a stethoscope.
“No,” I answered, lifting my arm for him to strap the cuff on.
He tapped his cheek. “When did this happen?” It took me a second to realize he was asking about the bruises on my face.
“Most doctors would ask how it happened.”
Dr. Ben’s eyes dropped from mine.
Anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach. “Have you worked for the family long?”
“Five years.”
“Seen many battered wives?”
“Maura,” Stefan said, tone