Revived

by Samantha Towle

“In a non-therapist-patient capacity, yes.”

  “And that’s the only reason you’re nervous right now?” His eyes bore into mine.

  No, it’s not the only reason. I’m mostly nervous because I have the strongest urge to kiss you right now and find out if you taste as amazing as I think you will. And if Jett weren’t sitting in the front of this car right now, I’d have a hard time stopping myself from doing so.

  Jesus, what is wrong with me? Why can I control my thoughts while with him at the office but not here?

  “Of course it is. What other reason would there be?” I have to force my voice to sound even, and it’s seriously hard going.

  “No reason.” He looks away from me.

  I stare down at my hands.

  From the moment he met me, I’ve seen Leandro look at me in a sexual way, but I know that’s because he uses sex as a defense mechanism.

  He looked at me the way he would any other woman he deemed attractive—as a temporary means of escapism.

  But, lately, the way he’s been looking at me is different.

  I don’t know how to explain it, but he’s no longer looking at me like I’m just another object for him to screw.

  He’s looking at me like he actually wants me.

  And it scares the crap out of me.

  Because I want him, too.

  “So, why don’t you treat this like a therapy session, if it’s bothering you so much?” His words come from nowhere, and his tone is biting. He sounds pissed off. “I can talk to you about the usual shit—you know, how my life sucks—if that’ll make you feel better about being here with me.”

  “You’re blowing it out of context, Leandro.”

  “Am I, Dr. Harris?”

  Not since out first initial meeting has he called me Dr. Harris. He always calls me India.

  And hearing him calling me Dr. Harris scratches over my skin like unwelcome nails.

  “You said being here with me is unethical, so I’m trying to make it ethical for you.”

  I blow out a breath. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Isn’t that usually my line?”

  “Jesus, Leandro!” I snap, my anger getting the better of me. “What is it that you want from me here?”

  He glances my way, his black eyes looking through me, his jaw set. “Nothing.” He turns his face away from me. “I am sorry I put you in a difficult position by giving Jett the tickets. I should have thought about it. It’s not like you could say no to him once I’d made the offer.”

  He’s right…and wrong. The mother in me couldn’t say no, but the doctor should have. Jett would have been angry, but he’d have gotten over it.

  I put myself in this position.

  Maybe because a part of me wants to be here with Leandro.

  And now, I’ve offended him, and I don’t know how to take it back.

  “Look, I’m sorry.” I reach out and touch his arm. The instant I do, I know it’s a mistake because the connection I always feel around him increases tenfold.

  All the air is sucked out of the car, leaving me breathless. I can feel the heat of his body through the shirt beneath my palm, setting my skin ablaze.

  I can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s so beautiful.

  His hand comes to mine. His index finger lightly traces up my skin until it reaches my wrist. His fingers circle it until his hand is holding me.

  His eyes move down to my mouth. I see them flare to life.

  “India…” he says my name on a breath.

  I almost come undone.

  Almost.

  Coming to my senses, remembering who I am, who we are and where we are, I pull away from him and turn to face the window.

  I hear him exhale loudly. He sounds frustrated.

  I close my eyes on the sound, and my hand wraps around the one that now feels like it has a permanent imprint of him on it.

  We haven’t spoken since the moment, and you could cut the tension between us with a knife right now.

  I can’t believe how close I came to kissing him.

  How did I go from being his therapist to this…what exactly?

  A man I want to kiss…and more.

  He’s a patient, for God’s sake! What the hell am I thinking?

  Would I have actually let it happen? Would I have kissed him?

  The fact that I don’t know the clear answer to those questions is a clear sign that I should be running far from him.

  The sign for Shenington Airfield comes into view. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

  I just need to get through today. Then, I can get back to just seeing him in a professional capacity, and I’ll be okay.

  It’s just that seeing him at dinner on Friday night, bumping into him yesterday and having coffee, seeing how great he was with Jett, and spending today with him…it’s just confusing me.

  And it’s not like Leandro has any real feelings for me.

  He has sex with different women all the time. Maybe not so much lately. But he was a player long before the accident.

  The driver pulls up into the parking area.

  Jett climbs out. The driver opens my door, and I climb out with Leandro getting out behind me.

  “This place is awesome!” Jett comes around the car to me, excitement on his face.

  I love seeing him happy like this.

  “This way.” Leandro gestures.

  I follow behind while Jett walks with him, asking him questions about today’s race.

  I can see people staring at him. He doesn’t seem to notice, but then he must be used to people staring at him.

  I sometimes forget how well known he is. When it’s just him and me talking in my office, he’s just Leandro.

  Out here, he’s a world-renowned Formula 1 driver.

  Going through the paddock area, we reach a section where a guy is at the door. He greets Leandro, shaking his hand. Then, he opens the door, and Leandro ushers Jett and me through first before coming in behind us.

  Not many people are in here. Looks to be a private viewing area that opens up onto the karting track.

  “Leandro fucking Silva!”

  I turn at the sound of the male voice, not loving the fact that he just cursed in front of Jett.

  Good-looking, brown hair, nice smile. I recognize him but can’t place him.

  “Carter, how are you doing?” Leandro greets him, smiling.

  They do that manly handshake-hug thing that men do.

  “I’m good. How are you doing after the accident? I know this shit’s tough—”

  “I’m fine,” Leandro cuts him off, the tone in his voice instantly harder.

  Carter stares at him for a moment, his brow furrowed. Then, his face relaxes. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. But if you do need to talk, you know where I am. We need to get together more often anyway. And thanks for doing this today. The kids will love seeing you here.”

  “No problem,” Leandro says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  I see Carter’s eyes go to me and Jett, standing behind Leandro.

  “Carter, this is my friend India Harris, and her son, Jett. Jett’s a big Formula One fan. India, Jett, this is Carter Simmons.”

  Carter Simmons. I knew I recognized him.

  I remember his accident. Leandro and Carter used to drive for the same team, the one Leandro still drives for.

  Carter had an accident in his first year. His left arm was partially severed in the accident, leaving him with limited movement in it. It was his first and last year. I remember it being a big thing in the news as he was a promising young English driver. Everyone had had high hopes for him.

  Tragic that his career was cut short before it had barely begun.

  “Big racing fan, huh?” Carter says to Jett. “Well, you’re with a racing legend today. That’s gotta be pretty awesome.”

  “It is.” Jett grins in Leandro’s direction.

  “You like to race yourself?”

  “I go karting when I can.”

&
nbsp; “You any good?”

  Jett shrugs. “I’m okay.”

  Carter smiles. “I have a feeling you’re probably better than okay. You should come down sometime and try the tracks out.”

  “That’d be awesome.” Jett beams.

  “Cool. Well, can I get you guys anything to drink?” Carter asks.

  “I’d love a black coffee,” I say on a shiver.

  I’m wrapped up warm in jeans, a jumper, and a warm jacket, but the chill is still creeping in.

  “Black coffee. Silva, you want anything?”

  “Same as India.”

  “Cool. Well, why don’t you come and give me a hand in getting the drinks, Jett? Then, I can introduce you to the lads racing today.”

  Jett looks at me, checking that it’s okay to go, and I give him a reassuring smile.

  I watch him leave with Carter.

  “You want to sit down?” Leandro gestures to some chairs near the viewing area.

  “Sure.”

  I walk over and take a seat, and Leandro sits in the seat beside me.

  I’m so aware of him right now, and I really wish I weren’t.

  “So, Jett seems to be enjoying himself so far,” Leandro says.

  “He’s in his element here.” I smile.

  I watch as he leans forward, putting his arms on the railing. He looks out at the karts warming up on the track. A sigh that sounds an awful lot like longing comes from him.

  “You really miss it.” It’s not a question. I already know he does.

  He turns his head to me, resting his cheek on his arm. “How can I miss something with a physical ache and be absolutely terrified of it at the same time?”

  “Usually, the things we love most are the things that terrify us.”

  He stares at me for a long moment before turning to look back out at the track.

  “How did you get into racing?” I lean forward, putting my arms next to his on the railing.

  “My dad was a world champion rally driver. Racing was always a given for me. I started in rally, but my interest in Formula One was always stronger. I wanted to go in that direction, and he fully supported me.”

  “He must be proud of you.”

  “He was.” He gives a sad smile. “He died a long time ago. Just after my first year in Formula One. Heart attack.”

  My chest squeezes for him, for his loss. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.” He shrugs.

  I wish he wouldn’t do that. Brush things off like they don’t matter.

  When I look at him, he’s already staring at me.

  “What?” I ask self-consciously.

  “I had a question, but I’m afraid to ask. I don’t want to cross that ethical line.”

  I give him a look. “I said I was sorry for that comment. But it is strictly true. Socializing with you isn’t ethical.”

  “Says who?”

  “The Health and Care Professions Council.”

  “Ah, what do they know?” He chuckles.

  Too much. They’d be frowning, waving my practice license in my face, if they could see me right now.

  “So, that question?” I’m treading dangerous water here, but I feel like I owe him a little of myself. And part of me wants to tell him.

  “Jett’s father…where is he?”

  My body freezes stiff. I have to force myself to swallow down.

  “He isn’t around.”

  “Were you married?”

  “That’s two questions.” I smile, so I don’t come off as a bitch.

  “Fair enough.” He shrugs, not pushing it.

  The fact that he does that makes me answer, “No, we weren’t married. I was young and naive. But out of that naïveté, I got the best thing in my life.”

  “He’s a great kid.”

  “He is.” I smile.

  “Okay, I have one last question.”

  I give him a look, which makes him laugh.

  “Sure. Why not?” I lift my hands in defeat. In all honesty, I’m enjoying talking to him like this.

  “The guy you’re dating. Seriously, you could do better than him.”

  I frown at the conversation taking an unexpected turn, my hackles instantly rising. “Well, I could say the same for you.”

  “What do you mean by that?” His tone sounds about as defensive as mine.

  “Kat Whisker. I mean, really?” I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. “You can do better than her, Leandro.”

  Where did that come from? I really shouldn’t have said that.

  “Is this you speaking as my therapist?” His tone is suddenly so even that I can’t get a read on it.

  Am I speaking as his therapist?

  I already know the answer to this, and it’s making my skin prickle with unease. No matter what I say now, I’ll be shooting myself in the foot.

  I take a deep breath and put my professional head on. “I shouldn’t have said that. I spoke out of turn.”

  “Why do you do that?” he growls, forcing my eyes to his.

  “Do what?”

  “Put on the professional shit when faced with a question you’re afraid to answer.”

  “I’m not afraid to answer,” I bite.

  “So, answer truthfully then.” He challenges me with his tone and his eyes. “What you said about Kat—was that said as my therapist or my friend?”

  I chew my lip, delaying my answer. Then, through gritted teeth, I mutter, “As your friend…I guess.”

  I try to ignore the smile of satisfaction on his face, but it bugs me, which is why I can’t stop myself from saying, “And what about what you said about Dan not being good enough for me? Were you saying that as my friend?”

  He stares at me for a long moment. “No, India, I definitely wasn’t saying that as your friend.”

  “NO, INDIA, I DEFINITELY WASN’T SAYING THAT AS YOUR FRIEND.”

  Smart move, Silva. Why didn’t I just tell her that I want to strip her naked and fuck her until neither of us can walk?

  God, I am a total fucking idiot.

  She didn’t say much after that, and I was relieved when Jett and Carter reappeared a few minutes later.

  India is all about professionalism. If me telling her that I didn’t think her boyfriend was good enough for her didn’t spell out that I wanted her, then my awesome line did.

  Even though I’m fairly sure that India wants me, too, she’s gun-shy. She’s afraid to cross that arbitrary line.

  I need to be careful how I approach this. I don’t want to push her away by being too forward because I could end up losing her if I do.

  And I really don’t want to lose her from my life.

  The race is over. I’ve presented the trophy to the winner. Both Jett and India seem like they’ve had a good day. Well, I know Jett has. The kid is full of enthusiasm. Can’t stop talking about the karting as we walk back to the car.

  “And Carter said I could come down anytime, Mum. Isn’t that awesome?”

  “It’s great, sweetheart.”

  “So, when can I come?”

  “Well, we can sort something out between your Uncle Kit and me and arrange a day to come down.”

  “Cool. I’m hungry. Can we grab something to eat?”

  “You’re always hungry,” India teases him.

  “I’m a growing man.”

  “Boy…you’re still a boy. And you’ll always be a baby to me.” She wraps her arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

  “Mum! You’re ruining my street cred.”

  “Sorry.” She grins, ruffling his hair.

  “We can grab dinner on the way back, if you would like?” I’m expecting a look of horror from India, knowing that I am crossing that line of hers again, considering how much I have pushed things already today.

  So, I’m totally taken by surprise when she says, “Sure. That’d be great.”

  “Cool. I know this nice place I can take us.”

  We climb back into the car.

&nbs
p; Taking the front seat, Jett immediately takes control of the stereo.

  I’ve never really spent time around kids, but I like Jett. He’s a cool kid.

  And he likes racing, which makes conversations easy with him.

  I’ve just clipped my seat belt in when India leans close and says, “You looked surprised when I said yes to dinner.”

  She’s so close that I can smell the intoxicating scent of her perfume.

  “I was surprised. I thought I might have been crossing your ethical line.” Lips pressed together, I lift my shoulder in a half shrug.

  A light smile on her lips, she shifts back to her side of the car. “I’ve already crossed the line today. What’s a little further going to hurt?”

  I’ll cross any line she wants me to. Cross it so far that the fucking line she adheres to will be invisible to her.

  “It won’t hurt at all.” I smile to myself, looking out the window.

  We end up stopping to eat at a country pub on the way back to London.

  “Should we invite your driver to eat with us?” India asks.

  The question makes me grin.

  “He’s not my driver, India. I pay the company he works for to drive me when I need it. He hasn’t driven me before.”

  “Thanks for the thorough explanation. But I still feel bad about us going to eat and leaving him out here.”

  “So, ask him.” I chuckle.

  I watch her round the car and go talk to the driver as I walk toward the pub with Jett.

  “She has a thing for strays,” Jett says to me. “Something to do with her job I think.”

  “The driver’s a stray?” I laugh.

  “Nah, but she just can’t bear the thought of anyone ever feeling bad or being left out.”

  “Not a bad trait to have,” I say to him.

  He stares up at me. “Do you like my mum?”

  “Do I like her?”

  “Do you want to date her? Because if you do, I’d be totally cool with it—obviously.”

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “It’s…complicated.”

  “Because of Dan? They’re not serious, so no problem there.”

  Yeah, there is Dan. But he’s just more of a minor irritant than a complication.

  No, the complication is, she’s my therapist. And it’s not a problem for me, but it will be for India.

  Stopping by the pub door, I look over at India, watching as she makes her way back to us.