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Despite what I did, my years of therapy aren’t forgotten. If I were to call my therapist right now and admit what just happened, she would ask one thing and one thing only. Why? My response would be simple yet complicated. Because it erases the wrong. It’s the only answer I’ve ever been able to give to her question and the only way I can justify making it better.

After splashing some cool water on my face and rinsing out my mouth, I slowly come back down from my high. I dig around in my purse for a stick of sugar free gum that instantly makes my mouth water from the cool spearmint flavor. Swallowing painfully, I’m certain my throat will be raw for the rest of the night. It’s nothing I can’t handle though—I’m back in complete control of my universe.

Maybe a part of the old Sophie came back to life tonight, but I don’t fear her—not yet. With my head held high, I return to Kipton. Just like Coach Evans said, temptation is all around me. I’ll show him I’m strong enough to resist—that I want to win more than anything else.

Kipton looks concerned when I slide into the booth. “You okay, Sophie? You look pale.”

“I’m good. A little tired.” I take a few sips of the water left sitting on our table even after our plates have been cleared. I’m thankful the waitress thought to leave them behind. The cool temperature of the water helps to soothe my throat. “How much do I owe?”

“Not a cent. You’re my date tonight, darlin’.’”

“Thanks for covering the bill, but you didn’t have to. I’m fine with paying.”

He ignores my offer entirely, being nothing but the gentleman I’ve known him to be. “I wanted to.”

“Okay.” I’m too worn out to argue as much as I’d like to pay my own way. I slide my weakened body out of the booth and Kipton follows closely behind me. His fingers graze the small of my back. The gesture, although foreign to me, appears slightly possessive. When I glance over my shoulder, Kipton offers me one of his signature winks. He’s aware his touch is affecting me. I only wish I didn’t crave it as much as I do. It’s wrong to want it, but maybe it doesn’t have to be.

“You nervous?”

“Kinda. I don’t like anything related to the doctor.” Because they make me tell the truth, but I don’t share that information with him.

“You’ll be fine. It’ll be over before you know it and then we can get back to our date.” He rests his arm around my shoulder and looks confident about his plans. I’m fine with it as long as he keeps me out of trouble. Or maybe I’m just too weak around him to decipher anything threatening.

THE YOUNG RECEPTIONIST BLUSHES WHEN I step up to the counter. She’s glancing between the paperwork and Kipton while rattling off which ones to sign and what she needs from me. He gives her a smile and leans further inside the open window. She looks thrilled he’s inching closer, maybe even hoping he asks for her number. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he whispers.

My pen slips off the signature line and draws a line onto the counter top. I stare at him like he has two heads. “Kipton!”

The receptionist sputters, trying to figure out an appropriate response to his statement. I almost feel bad for her—almost. But considering he does it to me every time I’m around him, I enjoy it instead.

Kipton backs away from the window with a smirk. “It’s not my fault my date’s smoking hot.” He walks away and finds a seat near the TV. Flipping a few channels, he finds ESPN and gets comfortable. Make yourself at home.

Before I have a chance to sit down next to him, the technician calls me back to the dressing area. It’s a damn good thing they don’t take my vital signs because right about now my heart is nearly thumping out of my chest. Kipton continues to surprise me every time he opens his mouth. So much so that the entire time I’m lying on the table, I’m busy trying to put his words into context. Either he’s just a natural born flirt, or he speaks the truth. I’m not sure which it is yet, but I’ll figure him out sooner or later.

“You can sit up, you’re finished.”

“Already? That was fast.”

Laughing, the technician says I’m free to go. Other than the discomfort of lying down and being as still as possible, the test only lasted a few short minutes. It took me longer to change into and out of the gown. Not that I’m complaining.

Exiting the dressing area, Kipton’s sitting in the far corner of the waiting room paging through a magazine. He moved since I left him. Giggling when I realize he’s reading a popular gossip magazine, I stand in front of him, but he doesn’t even see me he’s so engrossed in the article. “So what’s the scoop?”

Kipton’s head snaps up and he quickly closes the magazine, returning it to the side table. “It’s all they had.” He’s full of shit.

I bend down and pick up a men’s fitness magazine off the top of the stack. “Then what’s this?”

“I didn’t see that.” He stands up from his chair with a smile on his face, not the least bit embarrassed about being caught. “How was your test? You all done?”

“It was easy, thankfully. We can go.” I turn around towards the exit, but Kipton puts his hand on my shoulder from behind, halting me in my tracks. His body is flush against mine causing my heart rate to increase from his body heat alone. When I sense him inching closer, I’m positive he’s about to kiss my neck. Leaning my head back towards his chest to give him better access, I close my eyes as his lips brush against my ear. He’s so close, his warm breath on my skin sends goose bumps down my arms. Eager to hear what he wants from me, I anticipate the sexy suggestion. Leaning even closer, he whispers so nobody else in the room can hear, “Your shirt’s on backwards.”

Mortified, I look down and realize he’s right. The brand logo is on my back instead of across my boobs. I slip inside the bathroom in the waiting room to fix it. The simple task of turning around my top has me winded and suddenly exhausted. This is ridiculous.

When I open the door, Kipton’s leaning against the wall waiting for me. “That’s better, beautiful.”

My cheeks redden from his endearment, but I’m not embarrassed. Part of me might even like it. While my body’s reaction to Kipton continues to confuse me, I can’t convince myself to tell him to stop. Between the touching and the sweet words, he’s not making it easy to resist his charm.

After tucking me back into the passenger side of his car, he turns the radio on. I flinch from the intensity of the base. “Can you turn it down a little,” I ask. My head is once again throbbing.

“Sure.” He reaches for the dial and turns it so low we can barely hear the words. “Are you okay?” he asks again.

I rub my temples hoping for a little relief. “Damn headache.”

“I’m sorry. Do you have anything in your purse you can take? I might have something in the glove box.”

“I ran out, but I’m sure Cara has something in the room until I can get to the store.”

At the next red light, Kipton glances at me and rubs my knee soothingly. His touch has me squeezing my thighs together tightly. “I hate seeing you in pain, Sophie. Especially when it’s my fault.”

I turn my head to look at him. The old Sophie would have made him feel the regret of his ways regardless of the truth, but I’m not that girl anymore despite my moment of weakness tonight. My purge pushed my reset button. It’s as close as I can come to getting a do over because this time I’ll get it right—I’m solely responsible. “Kipton, none of this is your fault. If anything, you made it better.”

Raising an eyebrow he doesn’t comprehend what I’m trying to say. “You helped me at your house when I was sick, let me sleep in your bed, bought me dinner, and drove me to my scan. You’re taking care of me better than I’ve taken care of myself.” After the admission springs free, I realize the truth of the statement. Maybe I still am my own worst enemy, but I refuse to go down without a fight this time.

“Then you shouldn’t be against running inside here with me.” He pulls into the drug store parking lot and jogs over to help me out of the car. Surprised that he would care enough to stop for pain medication, I gladly go inside with him. The more time I spend with him, the more I discover how different he is. Sure he’s incredibly hot and probably gets any girl he wants, but there’s way more to him than an overprotective big brother or an insatiable college guy with his pick of the crop every night of the week. His nurturing side probably doesn’t get showcased very often, but I’m glad I’m the one who gets a glimpse.