Revived

by Samantha Towle

  No man could be.

  She’s amazing.

  And she looks beautiful tonight. She always looks gorgeous, but tonight, seeing her out of her work clothes, makes her look different.

  Her hair is down, like usual, the blonde ends brushing her shoulders, and her lips are painted red.

  But she’s wearing a pretty white dress. It’s fitted over the bust and waist and flares out at the bottom.

  She looks like a fucking angel.

  “I’m gonna go over and say hello.” Andi rises from her seat.

  I watch as she walks over to India. I see the real smile that India gives Andi and feel the envy at the hug she receives from India. And I stare unabashed as India introduces Andi to the dickhead she’s with.

  I sip my lemonade as Andi turns, pointing to where we’re sitting. India’s blue eyes meet with me, and I feel a jolt go down my spine, careening straight for my dick.

  Andi says something to her, and then they’re moving toward us.

  How do I handle this?

  Do I pretend not to know her?

  I don’t want Kat to know I’m seeing a therapist. I don’t know the chick, and she could tell someone or sell it to the press. I don’t want that shit spattered all over the news.

  Leandro Silva Seeing a Shrink.

  Yeah, no, thanks.

  Then, India’s standing by our table with the dickhead, and all rational thought leaves my mind.

  I have to force myself not to stare. So, I give the dickhead a quick once-over.

  Gray suit. Floppy blond hair. He looks like he just fell out of a Hugh Grant movie.

  Prick.

  “Dr. Harris, it’s nice to see you again.” Carrick is on his feet, greeting her.

  He kisses her cheek, and I feel the urge to punch him.

  “I’m still just India.” She laughs.

  The sound greets my dick like a sweet kiss from her red lips.

  “Yeah, never could get used to calling you by your first name.”

  I decide to take decisive action—or should I call it, playing games?

  Standing from the table, I reach a hand over it and say to India, “Leandro Silva. Nice to meet you.”

  As she brings her eyes to mine, there’s no flicker of surprise, so maybe she expected me to act like I didn’t know her.

  It kind of pisses me off that she was expecting it.

  She slides her hand into mine, and I feel like she’s burned me.

  “India Harris. It’s nice to meet you, Leandro.”

  Our eyes lock.

  She looks away first and looks straight at Kat.

  Is that jealousy or disapproval in her eyes?

  I hope for jealousy.

  Her lips press together, the way they do when I tell her about something or someone I’ve done that she thinks is a bad choice for me.

  Definitely disapproval then.

  The knowledge bothers the fuck out of me.

  A hand in Kat’s direction, I say to India, “This is Kat—” Fuck, I don’t know her surname.

  “Kat Whisker.” She stands up beside me, reaching a hand out to India.

  Kat Whisker?

  I have to hold back a laugh, and it’s hard going. I can see that India has humor dancing in her eyes.

  She would never laugh though. She’s too kind to laugh at someone in that way.

  Carrick’s not so obvious or kind because the bastard laughs, which he quickly turns into a cough. Andi shoots a look at him.

  Kat doesn’t seem to notice as she’s too busy eyeing India while shaking her hand.

  “This is Dr. Daniel Walker,” India introduces the prick to everyone.

  And, of course, he’s a doctor. I bet the asshole works with sick kids or something.

  “Please, just call me Dan.”

  He smiles at us, and I want to punch him.

  “Dan’s an ER doctor,” India tells us. She sounds proud.

  I feel a stab of jealousy, which is ridiculous.

  Why would I be jealous?

  “An ER doctor with a rare night off.” He smiles at India, his hand moving to rest on her lower back.

  Now, all I can think about it ripping his hand off the small of her back and crushing it until he gets the message never to touch her again.

  “Leandro’s a Formula One driver, like Carrick.” Kat slips her hand through my arm, curling her fingers over my bicep. “I’m sure you must have heard of him.”

  “Leandro Silva, of course.” Dan clicks his fingers. He turns to Carrick. “And you’re Carrick Ryan. Great to meet you both. I don’t get a chance to watch much racing, but when I do, you two are always my firm favorites.”

  Ass-licker.

  He shakes my hand first. I make sure to give a firm squeeze. If he notices, he doesn’t let on.

  “Well, we should leave you to it and get to our table.” India indicates to the waitress, who’s been hovering this whole time.

  “Why don’t you join us?” Andi says.

  I feel Kat’s hand tighten on my arm.

  “That’d be okay, wouldn’t it?” Andi asks the waitress. She looks back to India. “If you want to join us, of course.”

  India looks to Dan.

  He smiles. “Of course. As long as you don’t mind us crashing your party.”

  I feel like raising my hand and saying that I mind.

  I mind a fucking lot.

  I don’t want to sit here and watch them fawn all over each other. Not that there’s been much fawning.

  “Of course not,” the waitress replies.

  Clicking her fingers, she gets the attention of a waiter, who brings over two more chairs and two place settings for them.

  By now, I’ve managed to extract Kat’s hand from my arm, and I’m sitting back in my seat.

  We’ve all had to move around a bit, so Kat is practically sitting on my lap, and somehow, India has ended up in the chair next to me.

  Well, this is going to be a fun night.

  How the fuck did I end up on a couples night with my shrink?

  Maybe I should have that drink now.

  I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN THIS NIGHT OFF.

  First, my car broke down on my way out shopping to buy a new pair of stockings, as I hadn’t realized I had run out, and I was stuck waiting for the RAC to come fix my car. They couldn’t, so it’s currently at the garage.

  Then, my heel snapped while I was at the shop, buying the stockings, so I had to go and buy a new pair of shoes. That wasn’t too bad, as I ended up also buying the ones I’m wearing now as well as the new dress I’m wearing.

  Then, after getting caught in the rain and having to hail a taxi home, I’d just run a bath when a patient called. Of course I took the call, and by the time I was done, my bath was cold. So, I had to take a shower.

  Then, my hair straightener wouldn’t work, and to round it off, I broke my favorite lipstick.

  It’s been a shithole of a day, so of course, I would see Leandro Silva here on a date.

  It’s good that he’s dating, and he’s clearly not drinking, judging from the lemonade he just ordered.

  But his date is a bit handsy. I have a full show of her hand on his thigh, inching its way up. He has to keep stopping when she gets too high. Really, he should just tell her to knock it off. I mean, of course, it’s not bothering me. I just don’t think you should grope someone in public at dinner.

  An image of Leandro’s hand sliding up my thigh flashes through my mind, and I feel myself grow hot.

  I take a drink of my wine to cool off.

  Just focus on your food and the pleasant conversation and Dan sitting next to me.

  Not the man on my left.

  Or his handsy date.

  Kat Whisker.

  The laugh I held back earlier slips out, which I quickly cover with a cough. Dan glances at me and then goes back to talking to Carrick.

  I can feel Leandro’s eyes on me, but I won’t look at him.

  But then again, maybe not looking at
him is even more obvious.

  I’ll just casually look at him, like a normal person would.

  I glance in his direction to find him already staring at me.

  Why is he staring at me? And why do I have to find him so damn attractive?

  It’s not helping that he’s all looking seriously dapper, and his beard is gone.

  I wonder if he shaved his beard off for his date with handsy Kat.

  It’s not like I can even ask him. He made it clear that he doesn’t want people to know we know each other. That’s understandable. I am his therapist after all, and Leandro has a public persona to keep up even if it has been sketchy as of late.

  I smile at him and try to think of something that a person who doesn’t know him would say. “How’s your dinner?”

  Wow, that was awesome, India.

  A grin edges his lips. “It’s okay. The steak is a bit overdone for my liking. I prefer it rare.” His eyes flash with the emphasis on the last word.

  Okay. Deep breath. I take another sip of my wine.

  “How’s yours?” His deep accented voice seems closer.

  As I turn my head, I see that he’s leaning in my direction.

  I glance down at my salmon, which I’ve hardly touched. “It’s good.”

  When I meet his eyes again, he’s smiling at me.

  My ear pricks up when I hear Dan ask Carrick, “So, how do you guys know India?”

  I glance at Andi, gauging her response. She has loosened up so much since I first met her. She’s more open, but whether she’ll want Dan to know I was treating her is another story.

  “India helped me deal with some issues I had with Carrick’s racing.”

  Okay, she’s fine with it, which is good.

  I smile at her.

  “So, is she as good as they say?”

  “Better,” Leandro says, surprising me.

  The whole table turns to him.

  His face doesn’t even flicker. “Andi raved about her, and the change in her was noticeable, even to me.”

  I give Andi a warm smile.

  “So, have you used your connections to take Jett to the Prix?” Dan says jovially. He knows what a Formula 1 nut Jett is.

  “Who’s Jett?” That’s Leandro again.

  “India’s son,” Dan answers casually.

  He doesn’t know that Leandro is a patient.

  I don’t discuss my private life with my patients.

  I can feel my face heating.

  “I didn’t realize you had a son,” Andi says.

  “India’s fiercely protective of him,” Dan comments. “I haven’t even met him, and we’ve been dating for two months.”

  I can hear the issue in his voice, and it makes me uncomfortable.

  I know it bothers Dan that he hasn’t met Jett yet, but I don’t introduce men to my son, not unless I’m serious about them. And I haven’t been serious about anyone ever before. So, introducing someone to Jett would mean I really see a future with the guy, and I’m not sure if Dan is that person.

  “How old is your son?” Andi asks with a lift to her voice. Probably to take away from the discomfort of Dan’s comment.

  I try to curb my need to protect my life from people. “He’s twelve.”

  “Twelve?” Leandro exclaims from beside me.

  I know for a fact that my cheeks are bright red right now.

  I really want to kick Dan in the shin, hard, for bringing Jett up.

  “What I mean is, you don’t look old enough to have a twelve-year-old,” Leandro says, his voice sounding different.

  I swallow past a breath. “I was young when I had him.” I force bright into my voice and my eyes to look at him.

  What I see staring back makes my breath catch and sends shivers hurtling through my body, all the way down to my toes.

  The way he’s looking at me is like he’s seeing me in a whole new light.

  Not just as his therapist, but as a woman.

  And it thrills me to my very core.

  “I can’t believe you never told me that you know Carrick Ryan.”

  We’re outside my front door, and Dan has his arms around me.

  He’s driven me home from dinner. Andi was trying to talk us into drinks afterward, but in all honesty, I didn’t want to hang around and watch Kat feel up Leandro.

  It was bugging me.

  It shouldn’t have because I’m seeing Dan, and I’m Leandro’s therapist. But I don’t lie to myself, and being attracted to the guy is a problem.

  One that I need to control.

  Because I can’t stop treating him.

  I should. Finding a patient attractive is never a good thing. But I’ve never found myself in this situation before.

  What reason would I give to stop treating him?

  Oh, I kind of find you insanely attractive, so I can’t treat you anymore.

  I don’t think so.

  I just need to pull up my big girl panties and repeatedly remind myself that he’s my patient.

  And I’m also in Dan’s arms right now, arguing with myself over another man.

  I’m scoring major points tonight.

  Right, no more Leandro thoughts.

  “Andi’s a patient, and I only know Carrick through her. And you’re not a big Formula One fan, so I didn’t think it’d matter if I told you or not.”

  “It doesn’t.” He brushes my nose with his. “But the guy is a legend, as is Leandro Silva. Though I hear he’s not racing anymore after his accident.”

  “Hmm…”

  “So, dinner was nice.”

  “It was.”

  He brushes his lips over mine in that soft way of his.

  It’s nice. Just, sometimes, I wish he’d go wild with me. Push me up against the door and ravage me.

  Not kiss me like he thinks I’m going to break.

  Feeling oddly frustrated, I deepen the kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth. Pressing my body up against his, I moan into his mouth.

  His fingers gently slide into my hair.

  But I don’t want him to be gentle.

  I push him up against the outside wall of my house. Splaying my hands on his chest, I kiss him harder. Nipping his lip with my teeth, I let my hand lower to his erection that’s digging into my hip. I start to rub him through the fabric.

  Then, I lower the zipper of his trousers, but he catches my hand, stopping me.

  “India.”

  Embarrassment floods my face at his blatant rejection. I pull my hand away and take a step back from him, looking at anything but him. “God, I’m so sorry.”

  I don’t know why I did that. We haven’t even had sex yet. I wanted to take it slow, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex with any man.

  What was I planning on doing? Have sex with him in my doorway?

  It’s not like I’d take him inside and have sex with him while my son is sleeping in the next room, and my brother is down the hall. Then, there’s the fact that Jett hasn’t met him, and Kit has met him only once.

  What has gotten into me?

  “I should go inside.” My eyes are currently on my feet, which start to move toward my front door.

  “No, India, wait.” He catches my arm, pulling me back to him.

  He slides his hands around my waist. I reluctantly look him in the face.

  “I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “You just caught me off guard. I guess I wasn’t expecting it. We haven’t had sex, and you haven’t made any move in that direction until now.”

  I stare down at my feet, unable to look at him a moment longer. “I guess…I just got caught up in the moment.”

  “India, look at me, please.”

  Reluctantly, I lift my eyes to his.

  His hand cups my cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “I like that you got caught up in the moment, and I’m more than happy to move on to that next stage of our relationship, but only if you’re really ready.”

  “I don’t know. I guess…maybe.” I shrug.


  For an educated woman, I’m just full of articulation tonight, aren’t I?

  “India, I want what you want. There’s no pressure here.”

  Frustration builds in my mind, buzzing in my ears, and I instantly see my problem here.

  I want him to want what he wants. Not want what I want. I need him to be more assertive. Tell me that he wants me, and the rest be damned. Press me up against this wall, and kiss the hell out of me. Tell me how much he needs to be inside me. That he can’t breathe without me.

  I need passion from him.

  I bet Leandro isn’t this considerate or gentle with the women he has sex with. I bet he’s full of passion. I bet he just tells them straight that he wants them.

  Not that I’d want to be one of Leandro’s one-night conquests. Like Kat bloody Whisker.

  Ugh! Shit! Fuckity fuck, I’m bringing Leandro into this again!

  No more Leandro thoughts.

  “Just…think about it, and let me know, okay?” Dan says.

  I have to bite back my frustration. “Yeah, sure.”

  He gently presses his lips to mine. I quickly break away, not wanting to kiss him right now, and I step toward the door, getting my keys from my clutch.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says.

  “Speak to you then.”

  I close the door behind me and lock it. Then, I lean up against it, my heart beating hard in my chest, and I know it’s not beating that way because of Dan, but because of thoughts of a certain Brazilian race car driver.

  WALKING TOWARD THE TUBE STATION, my head is completely up my ass. I just had a meeting with the team bosses at some fancy restaurant where the dishes were so small I came out still hungry.

  The meeting was pointless because I had nothing new to tell them.

  I’m still in therapy, and I’m still not driving yet.

  They said the same as before. I don’t return next year, and I’m out.

  I can’t be pissed at them. They’re running a business and currently paying for a driver who doesn’t drive.

  If anything, they’re being good to me. I know it’s out of loyalty and respect. But that can only go so far.

  I’m well aware that the season is fast approaching. It’s the end of November. Racing season starts in March.

  I need to be back in my car and soon, or my career will be over for good.

  A flash of blonde hair catches my attention. It instantly makes me think of India.