AGAINST the ODDS

Chapter 20: Blurred Lines

(Lillian's POV – She reminds him of the professional line between them, but it's getting blurry.)

⸻

I should have said no.

I should have kept things professional, reminded Jaxon from the very beginning that this was nothing more than a doctor-patient relationship.

But I didn't.

I went to dinner with him.

And now, standing outside my apartment, staring at my reflection in the hallway mirror, I can still feel the heat of his gaze from earlier tonight. The way his presence had wrapped around me, pulling me in even as my brain screamed at me to step away.

I sigh, pressing my fingers against my temples.

This is dangerous.

Jaxon is dangerous—not in the reckless, irresponsible way, but in the way that makes me forget who I am.

And I can't afford to forget.

⸻

The Doctor and The Athlete

The next morning, I walk into the training facility with a new determination.

Last night was a mistake.

A mistake I won't be repeating.

I inhale sharply as I push open the door to the rehab center, already bracing myself for the inevitable encounter. Jaxon is scheduled for another session today, and after the way we left things last night, I know this won't be easy.

I scan the room, my heart doing something ridiculous when I spot him.

He's already here, sitting on the treatment table, tossing a football between his hands like he doesn't have a care in the world.

Like he's not testing every ounce of my willpower.

"Morning, Doc." His voice is smooth, easy—like nothing happened.

Good. That's exactly how I need this to be.

"Morning," I reply coolly, grabbing my clipboard. "How's the knee feeling today?"

He smirks. "Better. Or maybe I just had a really great night."

I shoot him a look. "Jaxon."

"What?" He leans back slightly, resting his weight on his palms. "I'm just saying, good food and good company go a long way in recovery."

I set my clipboard down with a sigh. "We need to talk."

"About?"

I cross my arms, leveling him with a firm look. "Last night."

⸻

Drawing the Line—Again

He studies me, his smirk fading just slightly.

I exhale, keeping my voice steady. "We can't do that again."

His brows lift slightly, but he doesn't interrupt.

"I mean it, Jaxon." I push forward. "I am your doctor. You are my patient. This needs to stay professional."

He tilts his head, watching me like he's trying to read between the lines of what I'm saying.

Then, slowly, he nods. "Alright."

I blink. "Alright?"

He shrugs. "If that's what you want."

I open my mouth, then close it.

I expected him to argue, to push, to throw that cocky smirk my way and challenge me.

But instead, he's just... accepting it.

And for some reason, that unsettles me more than anything.

⸻

Blurring the Lines

I try to focus on the session, but it's impossible.

Jaxon follows my instructions, does the exercises, lets me assess his knee without a single complaint.

He's the perfect patient.

And I hate it.

Because it's wrong.

Jaxon Monroe is never this easy. Never this agreeable.

And the fact that he's listening—really listening—tells me something else.

He's waiting.

Waiting for me to c***k.

I try not to let it get to me.

"Alright," I say, finishing my notes. "That's it for today."

He nods, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off his face. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Same time," I confirm.

But as he walks past me, he pauses just long enough to murmur, "You know, just because you say there's a line doesn't mean it's not already blurred."

I exhale sharply, watching as he walks away.

I should shut this down.

I have to shut this down.

But the problem is...

He's right.