Healing Mr. Ashford

Chapter Seventeen: The Examination

NATALIA GEORGETTE

“Max…”

The sound of his name left my lips before I could decide whether I actually wanted him to hear it.

Maximo remained where he was, close enough that I could still feel the quiet tension between us, his eyes fixed on mine as though he were waiting for me to finish a sentence I hadn't even begun. The stethoscope was still in my hand, forgotten somewhere between us, and I became painfully aware of how ridiculous the situation had become.

I was standing in my clinic, wearing an engagement ring, examining the man I had spent an entire week trying not to think about. And he was looking at me like Portugal hadn't ended when our plane landed.

“What?” he asked softly.

I swallowed and forced myself to look away first.

“You said Dr. Romeo called you.”

“Yeah.”

His voice had lost the faint teasing quality it usually carried whenever he talked to me. There was something almost careful about it now, as though he was choosing every word because he didn't know what was safe to say.

“He told me I should have a physical examination after the trip.”

I nodded, trying to gather myself.

“That makes sense.”

“I know.”

He paused.

“But I don't think this is the right time.”

I looked back at him.

“What do you mean?”

His eyes dropped briefly to my hand.

The ring.

“I'll just come back another day,” he said with a bitter smile. “You have enough going on.”He turned toward the door.

Something inside me reacted before my mind could catch up.

“Don't go.”

He stopped with his hand only inches from the doorknob. The silence that followed felt strangely intimate then slowly, he turned around. His expression was unreadable for me.

“Why?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing immediately came out because what was I supposed to say?

Because I don't want you to leave.

That was the truth, but it was also the one thing I couldn't afford to say. Not with Ethan's ring still on my finger, not when I hadn't even figured out what I was going to do with the life I had built before Portugal, and certainly not when I was still trying to understand why seeing Maximo again had made all those carefully constructed walls inside me collapse so easily.

So I reached for the only explanation that felt safe.

“Let me finish the examination.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He studied my face.

“You don't have to do this because you feel bad about ignoring my message.”

My chest tightened as my heart pounded so lively.

“I don't.”

“You sure?”

I nodded.

“I wouldn't ask you to stay if I didn't want you here.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how they sounded. Maximo did too, because something changed in his expression. I bit my lower lip, and his eyes dropped onto it. After a faint smile, his jaw tightened as he looked back at me. Then he walked toward me.

“Okay.”

I returned to my desk, suddenly grateful for the familiar arrangement of my instruments. The blood pressure monitor, stethoscope, thermometer, examination gloves. Things I understood. Things that didn't ask me to explain why my heart behaved differently whenever this man entered the room.

“Sit,” I said.

He sat on the examination chair as I reached for the blood pressure cuff. When I stepped closer, I noticed him watching me, not openly staring, just quietly watching, and somehow, that was worse.

“Give me your arm.” He extended it.

I wrapped the cuff around his upper arm, my fingers brushing against his skin as I adjusted the Velcro. It wasn't the first time I have touched him, but somehow, my hands felt like they were doing it for the first time. His muscles tightened beneath my touch, and so did something in my chest.

I gathered all my will and strength to look at him,

“You're tense.” His eyes stayed on mine.

“Am I?”

“Yes.” I hid the pounding of my heart behind a small smile.

“Maybe I'm nervous,” he said.

“You're sitting in front of a doctor.”

“That might be the problem.”

I gave him a look, and our eyes met. I couldn’t hold his gaze for too long, not when I was afraid I might lose focus. So I quickly looked down at the reading as the monitor began to inflate.

“Your pulse is elevated.”

His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest second.

“Maybe you're making me nervous.”

I immediately looked back at the monitor, trying to hide my reaction to his words, but the words slipped from my lips before I could stop them.

“Don’t flirt with your doctor.”

His lips curved into a faint smile. “Do I look like flirting with you?”

“You were.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking far too amused. “I was just answering your question.”

I gave him a pointed look, but the small smile tugging at my lips betrayed me.

“You're impossible.”

“Still?”

The word made me pause.

Because suddenly, I wasn't thinking about the man sitting in front of me.

I was thinking about the boy I had known years ago. The boy who had always managed to make me laugh when I was trying not to. The man who had somehow returned to my life when I was at my most vulnerable and the man who had held me in Portugal without once asking me what I intended to do about the ring on my finger.

I looked down at his wrist and placed two fingers against his pulse.

“Hold still.”

He did.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. I felt the steady beat beneath my fingertips, then noticed his pulse quicken, only slightly, but enough for me to notice. I looked up, and our eyes met. My gaze drifted down to his lips, full and slightly flushed. I swallowed and unconsciously moistened my lower lip, only for his lips to curve into a slow smirk. I immediately looked back into his eyes and caught him staring at my lips too.

Neither of us said anything. I hated how easily I understood the silence between us, and even more that some part of me didn't want it to end. I slowly removed my fingers from his wrist and reached for my stethoscope.

“Deep breath.” He inhaled as I stepped closer. The moment the stethoscope touched his chest, I felt his breathing change. I pretended not to notice.

“Again.”

He inhaled more deeply as I shifted the stethoscope slightly. My focus should have been entirely clinical about his heart sounds, rhythm, rate and nothing else.

But I could feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt, and suddenly, memories of Portugal came rushing back with a force I hadn't prepared myself for.

His hand wrapped around mine as we walked through the park. The warmth of his embrace beneath our blanket. The way he moaned my name when we made love, and the way he had looked at me when neither of us was pretending anymore.

I pressed the stethoscope more firmly against his chest, as though the pressure could somehow silence my own thoughts.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” The word came out too quickly.

“You're shaking.”

My hand froze against his chest.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

I looked down, only then realizing how tightly I was gripping the stethoscope.

“It's cold in here.”

His eyes softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Come closer, then.”

The words caught me off guard because that was what Maximo had always done. He never pushed. He simply left space for me—space to breathe, space to choose, and somehow, always, space to come closer.

But instead, I moved to the other side of him to continue the examination. When I stepped back around, he turned at the same time, and our faces nearly collided. We both froze. We were too close, close enough for me to notice the change in his breathing and feel my own heart pounding.

His eyes searched mine, free of their usual teasing. I swallowed, my gaze briefly dropping to his lips before returning to his eyes. He noticed, of course. His jaw tightened, but he didn't move closer. He simply left the choice to me, and somehow, that made it harder to breathe.

“I'm still examining you,” I whispered.

His eyes remained on mine. “I know.”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “Like what?”

I couldn't answer. So I stepped back, putting distance between us, but the tension remained. I looked down at the chart, pretending to read something that had suddenly become very difficult to understand.

When I looked back at him, his hand reached for mine. I felt his fingers brush over the ring on my finger, slowly turning it as if he were considering taking it off, but he didn't. My gaze dropped to our hands, then back to him. He was staring intently at the ring.

“I would've kissed you by now,” he said quietly, “if it weren't for this.”

“I… uhm…”

The words caught in my throat when his thumb gently caressed the back of my hand, sending a spark through me.

“Hmm?” Maximo murmured. He lifted my hand to his lips, his breath warm against my skin, before guiding it down to rest against his chest. His other hand settled at my back, drawing me closer.

“So, will you explain it to me now?”

My vision blurred slightly, my knees weakening at the quiet way he spoke and the warmth of his breath against my hand. “What, baby? Go on. Explain yourself.”

Before I could find an answer, he gently guided me onto his lap. His arms wrapped around me, my back resting against his chest, and suddenly, whatever explanation, I had disappeared completely.

“Max, someone might see us, and I’m not even done with the examination yet,” I whispered, my voice barely steady.

He only buried his face in the curve of my neck, leaving soft kisses against my skin. I bit my lip and silently thanked God there were no cameras in the room.

“I hated seeing that ring on your finger,” he murmured against my neck, his voice low and restrained. “But seeing the way you react to me… I know it’s me now. It’s not him anymore. You’re mine.”

I bit my lower lip, trying to steady myself. “My family doesn’t know yet, and I don’t want people here at the office asking questions. They’ll gossip, and eventually, it could reach our families.”

He paused, then leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear.

“But you’re over him now, baby, right?”

“Uh… y-yes.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

He gently turned my chin toward him, his eyes dark with something I couldn't name, and then he claimed my lips in a kiss that left me breathless.