Chapter 3 The Space Between

Three days.

It had been three days since Lily's visit to Dr. Adrian West, and yet she couldn't get him out of her head.

His voice still lingered in her mind, calm and laced with menace. His touch, fleeting and professional, still lingered on her skin. And those eyes-piercing and troubled-kept flashing before her eyes every time she closed them.

This wasn't typical. She didn't *do* this. She didn't get swept up in men, didn't get lost in older, dark doctors with intense eyes and dominant presences. And yet there she was, striding through her favorite bookstore café, with a vanilla latte in front of her, unable to concentrate on the novel she had taken off the shelf.

She wasn't even reading the pages anymore. She was living again. Stolen moments. The way his voice had gone low when he'd told her he'd not been able to stop thinking about her. The way his fingers had curled around her fingers for a second, like he'd forgotten they were in a cold room with bright lights and rules and walls.

Then he'd walked away from her.

She didn't blame him. Not really. He was older. A doctor. He had more to lose. But that didn't make the pain in her chest any easier to put out of her mind.

She sipped another drink of her coffee, attempting to drown it all in warmth and sweetness.

Over in town, Adrian West stood before the mirror in his private office, gazing at himself as if he didn't know the man staring back at him.

He'd done it all right for years. Kept his distance. Maintained his boundaries. Managed every inch of his highly ordered world. And yet one twenty-four-year-old woman with questioning eyes and a voice like hot chocolate had rendered all of that useless.

He hadn't meant to personally take on her case. It had started in good faith-real medical obligation. But the moment he saw her, standing on that table in that sundress hugging her tiny curves, her eyes lighting up at the mere presence of him... everything changed.

And now?

Now he caught himself thinking about what her laugh sounded like when she was not near. What kind of music she listened to when no one else was around. How her mouth would taste if he allowed himself to fall just once.

He rubbed his hands down his face and swore.

He needed something to distract him. Something to get her out of his system before things went any further.

But fate, as it always does, had other ideas.

---

Later that afternoon, Lily was in the hospital gift shop, mindlessly scanning a small display of candles by the window. Her best friend Morgan had texted, requesting a ride home after a minor ER visit. Something about passing out during a long day as a medical intern.

Lily figured she'd kill the time here until Morgan got out. She wasn't all that happy to be back here... especially not when it reminded her of *him*.

She grabbed a candle that smelled like lavender and glanced over at a tall figure entering the store from across the street.

Her heart missed a beat.

Adrian.

He hadn't caught sight of her yet. He walked along in the same confident refinement he always showed, coat draped over one shoulder, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, hair a little mussed like he'd been running his hands through it. He was speaking quietly to someone behind him-another doctor, maybe. But then he turned, and their eyes locked.

For an instant, the world contracted.

Neither of them moved. The background din-beeping equipment, soft conversation, wrapper crinkle-disappeared.

Then, silently, he apologized to his colleague and stepped over the distance between them.

"Lily," he said, his tone softer than she remembered. "What are you doing here?"

She swallowed, clutching the candle against her like a shield. "My friend had a little scare. I'm waiting for her."

He nodded. "You're okay then?"

"I'm fine."

His eyes roamed across her face, lingering a fraction too long. "You look... different."

"How so?"

He hesitated. "Lighter. Like you've been sleeping better."

"Maybe I have."

There was a silence between them. Pedestrians pushed shoulders and grumbled, but they were still locked in that unseeable bubble.

Adrian looked down, then back. "I wasn't looking for you to be here."

"Neither was I," she said. "But maybe it's for the best."

He tilted his head. "Why?"

"Because I dislike how we ended things."

His jaw clenched. "You mean me just leaving like a coward?"

Her eyes widened at his honesty.

He exhaled and looked away for a moment, collecting himself. "I'm not accustomed to... *this*. You understand that, don't you?"

Lily drew in a little closer, her voice lowering. "Do you really think I am?".

"I haven't let anyone in for years," he answered. "I don't know how to do this without breaking something."

"I'm not asking you to," she said quietly. "I'm just asking you not to run."

Their eyes met again, and this time neither of them blinked.

She wasn't certain who had initiated it. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was her. But in a moment, they were closer than they should have been, standing amongst piles of greeting cards and perfume lotion, air so thick that it could be sliced.

His hand brushed against hers as she stored the candle.

It was an accident.

But the jolt that it sent racing through her body denied.

They both felt it.

Adrian inhaled sharply, and let his fingertips graze the edge of her hand again, more cautiously this time, as if tasting something fragile.

"I don't dare touch you," he whispered, but he did not move away. "If I do, I won't be able to stop."

She cooled.

"You're just getting warmed up."

He gasped as if he was fighting to contain himself. "You make it hard for me to be the man I'm supposed to be."

"Then be the man you *want* to be," she breathed.

That was all.

His hand slipped into hers, warm and commanding, weaving their fingers into the narrow gap between them.

It was not a kiss. It was not even a hug. But it was intimacy in its nakedest sense-unspoken, charged, unescapable.

A nurse went by and gave them a questioning glance, and Adrian pulled hastily away, letting go of her hand.

"Not here," he said.

"Then where?"

He stood there with a torn look for a moment. And then he pushed his hand into his coat pocket, pulled out a small card, and handed it to her.

"My private number," he said to her. "Call me when you get home."

Lily blinked in surprise. "You sure?"

"No," he said. "But I don't want to keep fooling myself."

She watched him walk away again-but he didn't look back.

She clutched the card in her fist, her heart racing so hard she thought it would burst.

This was not tension anymore.

This was the start of something irreversible.

And it was going to get worse from here.