The Doctor Who Has No Chance (Soulless Book 11)

by Victoria Quinn

  I turned around and watched him go, not thinking twice about the way he’d held me and kissed me…because it felt right.

  Fifteen minutes later, he stepped into his office and shut the door behind him. He moved to his chair at his desk and dropped into it with a thud, like he didn’t have the strength to hold himself up a second longer. He ignored the food. Didn’t care about it at all.

  I sat in the armchair near his desk and stared, helpless.

  His fingertips rested on his thigh, and he stared at his knee, all the muscles in his face tight with stress.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  He didn’t have anything to say.

  I hoped this wouldn’t propel him backward, make him leave medicine all over again. I hoped he’d grown enough in these last few months to understand a perfect record wasn’t a reality, and a failure wasn’t the product of his skills or abilities. Like he said, it was God’s decision in the end.

  “Cancel my appointments for today,” he said quietly. “And tomorrow.”

  “Already taken care of.”

  He rested his elbow on the armrest and propped his cheek against his closed knuckles, continuing to stare down at the floor.

  My hand moved to his thigh, giving him some kind of affection to make him feel less alone, even though, in reality, he would always be alone. He was the only one who truly understood how this felt.

  “Whenever this happens…I have no interest in anything. I cancel my upcoming surgeries, sulk in my bed for a couple days, evaluate every little thing to make sure incompetence or negligence didn’t cause it, that I fulfilled my oath as a physician to cause no harm. It’s a process.” He lifted his eyes and finally looked at me. “But I don’t have the time to cancel my surgeries next week. I can’t push those patients back because I need time to decompress, to grieve. I need to keep going.”

  I was relieved that he hadn’t decided to walk away again. “Think of the thousands you save, not the few that you can’t.”

  “That’s hard to do when I tell his wife she’s now a widow.”

  I squeezed his thigh a little harder.

  “My mom had cancer a couple years ago. I was in medical school at the time, so I would come up when I could, but it was really hard to make that schedule work at the time. But Derek was there, Daisy took a semester off from school…”

  I had no idea.

  “My dad wasn’t her oncologist because he specializes in other kinds of cancer, but he pulled a lot of strings and called in a lot of favors to make sure she could have the best care possible. But even then, I knew that might not be enough. I knew that my mom might die, that my dad would be a widower, that our entire world would fall apart because she’s the glue that keeps us together. So, when we got the news that she’d defeated it, that it was over, that she was cancer-free…” He shook his head. “I’ll never forget it.” His eyes started to well up. “I thanked the doctors for everything they did, thanked the universe for letting me have my mother for many more years to come, and I knew that was the news I always wanted to give my patients. That their mother, their spouse, their kid…they had many more years to come.” He closed his eyes as he caught his breath, tears sneaking underneath his closed lids and dripping down his face. “It kills me every time I can’t do that.”

  “Dex…” I left the armchair and helped myself to his lap, my thighs across his, my arms around his neck, my face against his.

  He sniffed and opened his eyes, the tears defeated but his eyes still glistening. His arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me closer, positioning me on top of him so he could feel my heartbeat and I could feel his.

  I didn’t notice my own tears until they made drops on the front of his scrubs. I hurt when he hurt, felt his pain as if it transferred from his body into my own. If I could take it from him completely, I would.

  His hand cupped my cheek, his fingers moving into my hair slightly. “Baby.”

  I lifted my gaze and looked into his, our eyes mirrors of each other because they looked the same.

  He looked me in the eye as his thumb brushed the skin of my bottom lip. “I love you.”

  Fifteen

  Dex

  There was no conversation.

  It was wordless and effortless. We were together—end of story.

  I basically had a three-day weekend because Sicily had canceled all of my appointments. But that weekend wasn’t spent alone, because she was with me. We took a nap together when we got to my apartment, and when we woke up, it was past noon, so we made lunch and watched TV together on my couch.

  She wore one of my shirts and my sweatpants, stuck to my side like glue pretty much the entire time.

  She slept over every night, but that was all we did, just sleep.

  I was in no hurry to make anything more of it.

  I was just happy to have her back, to get another chance, to have the opportunity to show her how much she meant to me. Catherine was my past, and while that love was real and true, it didn’t matter anymore. Sicily was my future, the person I wanted to make a life with, the person who understood me better than anyone in this world. I was more than ready to move on and be happy.

  On Sunday morning, we slept in, made breakfast, and then watched TV in bed.

  She showered at my place and continued to wear my clothes because she hadn’t brought anything at all. I loved the way she looked in my clothes, with her makeup gone, lying beside me, small in comparison to me and my bed.

  It was perfect.

  The best remedy for the heartbreak I’d just experienced.

  Her face was in the crook of my neck while she was wrapped around me, and she released a quiet sigh as she started to move.

  “I know what that means…”

  She pulled away and propped herself up on one elbow. “I have so much to catch up on, it’s not even funny.”

  My arm remained around her waist as I anchored her to me because I wasn’t ready to let go. “Stay. Come on, I’m your boss. You’re supposed to do what I say.”

  She smiled slightly as she ran her fingers over my chest. “You’re not my boss right now. My boss needs to show up to work tomorrow and have another flawless day. He needs me to do my part so he can do his. I would never compromise my professionalism, no matter how much I may want to.”

  I sighed just the way she had a few minutes ago.

  Her grin widened before she got out of bed and put on the outfit she’d been wearing three days ago.

  After a painful sigh, I got dressed too and prepared to walk her home.

  “Dex, you don’t need to walk me—”

  “I know I don’t need to do anything.” It was an overcast day, so I pulled on a hoodie. “I want to make sure my woman gets home safely.”

  “Well, I was going to swing by the store—”

  “Then I’ll come with you.”

  She stopped her argument, but the brightness in her eyes showed that she didn’t want to win the argument in the first place. “Alright.”

  We walked to the grocery store, and I pushed the cart while she made her selections, and every time she bent over to grab something, I checked out her ass. It was a great way to spend my Sunday.

  My depression didn’t last as long as it should have because of her. She made me too happy to be sad, and I made peace with the surgery much quicker than I normally would. When I’d told her I loved her, it was totally spontaneous, and my feelings became crystal clear when she moved onto my lap and shared my tears.

  She was the other half of me.

  She understood me better than anyone.

  She took my heart when I didn’t realize I’d given it away…and she took care of it.

  She was a better cardiac surgeon than I was.

  After we finished with the store, we walked back to her apartment, me carrying the heavier stuff, while she carried the little things. It was the first time we’d done something so normal, but it felt like the hundredth time.

  When we made it to her apartm
ent, we put the groceries away. But instead of saying goodbye, I went to her bedroom and took off my clothes.

  “What are you doing?” She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

  I helped myself to her bed and grabbed the remote. “What?”

  “I told you I had to work.”

  I turned on the TV and propped my hands behind my head with the sheets around my waist. “Then work. Don’t mind me.”

  She rolled her eyes but wore a playful smirk. “Like you won’t be a distraction.”

  I zipped my lips then continued to watch the game.

  She changed in the bathroom and came out in her sweatpants before she grabbed her laptop and her paperwork. Then she got in bed beside me, her knees bent with her laptop on top, and she got to work like I wasn’t there.

  My eyes shifted to her instead of the TV, and I watched her work on emails and the schedule for this week, going into all the details of my life that she handled effortlessly. I felt more happiness in that moment than I had in a very long time, felt at peace with the world, felt like I was finally in the place where I belonged.

  And I would never leave again.

  I took a break from my research and pulled out my phone as I leaned back in the chair, the silent hum of the fridges giving constant white noise in the background. The AC was ridiculously low in these rooms, so I always wore a sweater and long sleeves to work. I was a guy who ran hot, but that wasn’t enough after eight hours.

  I texted my dad. Hey, Felon. That was the nickname I’d given him, and it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  Don’t call me that.

  Guess what, Felon? I loved teasing my dad because I didn’t get to do it often. He was Mr. Perfect, so it was rare to find a mistake and latch on to it.

  Want me to turn you into my bitch too?

  LOL. Mom would kill you, so I’m safe.

  Yeah, she would kick my ass. I don’t guess, so you should just tell me whatever you want to tell me.

  Sicily took me back. We spent the weekend together.

  That’s great, son. I’m so happy for you. His voice came into my head, like he was speaking the words to me.

  Yeah, me too.

  Don’t fuck it up again.

  Wow, you’re one to talk…fucking people up in bars.

  You got me there. You want me to tell your mother, or would you like to do the honors?

  She probably already knows.

  Sicily told her?

  No. But Mom just knows shit…

  I texted Derek next. Hey, guess what?

  I’m not doing that shit.

  Sicily and I are back together.

  Good. Don’t fuck it up.

  Hey, that’s exactly what Dad said.

  That doesn’t surprise me. But it’s also rich coming from him…breaking people’s faces in bars.

  Hey, I said the same thing!

  The door opened, and Sicily walked inside, wearing a sundress with a jean jacket on top, with nude heels on her feet. “So, I have a couple things—”

  “Damn, baby. You’re bangin’.” I looked her over, checking out my assistant and my woman in one go. It was the first time I’d seen her that morning, and wow, did she know how to make an entrance.

  She halted, her cheeks immediately flushing at the candid reaction I blurted out. Her hair was in loose curls, long down her body, and she wore a gold necklace and a matching bracelet, looking ready to appear in a spring catalogue.

  “Come here.” I turned in my chair then patted my lap.

  She came closer, her heels tapping against the tile. “Dex, we’re at work.”

  “I don’t care.” I grabbed her by the waist and tugged her onto my lap, placing her legs over mine, cradling her close so she was right up against me, her dress rising slightly because it got caught on my jeans.

  “What happened to our pact of professionalism?”

  “Trash it.”

  “I’m serious—”

  “So am I. Lots of people work with their partners. You think they hide it? You think Derek and Emerson don’t bang it out on his desk? Trust me, they do, and they don’t give a damn.” My fingertips moved slightly underneath her dress, feeling the soft skin of her thigh. “And I certainly don’t give a damn.” I pressed kisses up her neck until I brushed my nose into her hair, feeling the softness and smelling her shampoo.

  She leaned into me because she liked it.

  I smiled against her neck before I pressed a kiss to her lips. “Wow, you put up quite a fight.”

  “Shut up.” She cupped my cheek and kissed me right on the mouth, her lips separating mine so she could give me her tongue.

  My hand snaked up farther under her dress to her ass, and I gave it a deep squeeze. My mouth took hers, and I released a deep moan before my fingers gripped the fabric of her panties like they were reins to a horse.

  She abruptly pulled away. “Okay, this is why we can’t do this.”

  “Baby, there’s literally nobody here. And if there were…they can watch.”

  She knew I was kidding and gave me a playful smack. “I have your lunch and a couple messages.” She tried to wiggle off my lap.

  I tugged her back. “No, this is perfect.” I turned in the chair so I could get closer to the counter and started to work again. “You just stay like that and keep my dick warm.” I rested my mouth against her shoulder and looked at my paperwork on the desk behind her.

  She rolled her eyes then pushed off me. “You’re ridiculous.”

  I chuckled and let her off me this time. “Okay, okay…fine.”

  She grabbed the folder that she’d left on the table and read me all the messages I needed to hear, along with other information that was necessary for the day.

  I turned back into a professional, but seeing her in that cute-ass dress was perpetually distracting. “I’ll make those calls over lunch.”

  “Are you sure?” She preferred that I had a solid thirty minutes to myself during the day just to unwind and empty my mind, but that never happened.

  “There’s just too much to do. I don’t mind eating while I work.”

  “Alright.” She turned away.

  “Baby?”

  She faced me again.

  “Free tonight? Wait, let me rephrase that… Are you free every night this week?”

  Her cheeks flushed all over again, and she clutched her folder to her chest.

  “You wanna get dinner?”

  “No dinner. Let’s just cook at your place. I ordered you a meal kit subscription.”

  “Perfect. But you don’t want me to take you out or anything?”

  She shook her head. “It’s overrated. I’d rather be home with you.”

  Work was usually hectic during the week, so while it was nice to see her every day, to talk every day, I actually didn’t get to spend much time with her. My nights were reserved for her, and I wanted to see her every single moment. I didn’t need an evening by myself to unwind.

  I already spent plenty of time without her.

  Sometimes it was at her apartment, sometimes it was mine, but it was mostly mine. I had a bigger kitchen, more space, and my place was closer to the office than hers, so we usually went straight there. She brought a bag to work and had started her own drawer in my nightstand.

  “What do you think?” I stood in my boxers and scooped my spoon into the sauce before I fed it to her. She was sitting on the counter in my shirt, her legs dangling over the edge. I moved between her knees and spoon-fed it to her.

  She absorbed into her mouth and caught a drop of sauce from the corner of her mouth with her fingertips. “A touch of salt. Then it’ll be good.”

  “Got it.” I moved back, added the salt, and stirred it in.

  She leaned against the cabinets as she watched me cook, a subtle smile permanently on her lips now.

  I made her happy. I could tell. And that made me happy because she made me happy…and it continued to go on like that, the two of us bringing each o
ther a special kind of joy.

  Fuck Catherine. We were never this happy.

  Sicily and I had been together for over a week now, and there was no sex. I didn’t even try to make it happen because it was totally up to her. Last time we were together, I’d dumped her literally the next day, so it should only happen now when she was ready for it. It wasn’t like we didn’t do other stuff…

  The timer went off, so I pulled the eggplant out of the oven. “That looks pretty good too. These meal kits are pretty cool.”

  “Yeah, they can turn anyone into a chef.”

  “Even me, apparently.”

  “You’re a genius, Dex,” she said with a laugh. “You could be anything you wanted.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyone can be anything they want to be, regardless if they’re a genius or not.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “How is that possible? How can you possibly be so gifted and then think someone like…me, for instance…can do what you do? I just don’t think that’s a rational thought. People can have a little bit of success and it immediately goes to their head, but…it doesn’t with you. Perplexing.”

  I used the tongs to flip the slices of eggplant over before returning the tray to the oven. “I told you Derek is a professor, right? At NYU?”

  “Yeah, I vaguely remember that.”

  “He’s the reason I believe that.”

  “How so?”

  I took off the oven mitt and tossed it on the stove. “Because that’s his philosophy. That anyone with any background, no matter their age or intelligence, can become whatever they want with the right instruction. Yes, intelligence is pretty much a stagnant genetic inheritance, but the most successful people in the world aren’t necessarily the brightest. Why is that? Because they got the right instruction. So, yes, I believe you could be me if you really wanted to. Do my natural smarts make it easier? Of course. But it’s my passion that makes me the best, not my IQ score. Derek teaches graduate students who are obviously well-educated as it is, but he pushes them harder and harder. And his daughter Lizzie was flunking math until he took over her instruction and helped her become the student she wanted to be. Look at her now, going to Harvard. I bet if you measured her IQ, it wouldn’t be genius-level high. Literally means nothing.”