Later that day at the clinic, Dr. Wright pulled me aside after my last patient. When she saw my look of confusion, she said, “I take it that you haven’t checked your voicemail.”
“No. It’s been a full day. What happened?” I asked.
A grin cracked open across her face. “Congrats, Dr. Patel! We’ve extended an offer of full-time employment for you after residency is over.”
My first instinct was to squeal, but I had to tamp that down quickly, considering Dr. Wright was my boss. I laughed instead, my body thrumming from racing heartbeats, and profusely thanked her. “This means so much. Thank you, thank you! I’m so honored to be a part of your practice, Dr. Wright. This is a dream come true. I love this place like a second home.”
“It’s my pleasure. We’ve enjoyed having you, watching you mature and take leadership roles, and how you handle patients, and your expertise is something we couldn’t pass up. I hope you accept.” She raised her hands. “No pressure. Not asking for a decision on the spot.”
As much as I wanted to say yes, of course, and also there weren’t other offers, I nodded and took my time. Once I left an extremely thrilled boss, I listened to my voicemail and discussed the offer with HR.
Then I called my parents from the car. They’d canceled our weekly dinner because they had to head to Austin to check on my sick uncle.
The words spilled out of me like a geyser, my entire body shaking and tears spilling.
“Wait. Eh?” Mummie asked on speakerphone.
I beamed. “My clinic offered me the job! I repeat, I have a job! Your daughter will be a full-time, full-fledged, actual doctor after residency.”
“Oh!” Mummie gasped, the phone muffled as she handed it to Papa. “Preeti got the job!”
“That’s my beta! There was no doubt. Always making me proud,” Papa said, his voice quavering as Mummie cried and mumbled every prayer she could remember. “So many years of hard work and dedication and tears and fears and heartaches come down to this. Preeti, you are amazing.”
“Papa…” I mumbled, choking back sobs.
“We’re going to tell everyone,” Mummie said excitedly, her voice higher. “And we will do puja and offer the acceptance letter and your first paycheck to mandir, huh?”
“Of course,” I said, understanding the importance of giving back the first of our fruits to God.
“We’ll be back in town in a few days,” Papa said. “Can we announce?”
“I haven’t accepted yet.”
“Why not?”
“Let me take a couple days to notify other places where I’ve interviewed,” I explained, although no other practice appealed to me as much. But it was the professional thing to do, to not burn bridges, and just maybe someone else would want me and Dr. Wright’s practice would up their offer.
“Okay. Okay. We’ll tell everyone you got your first offer,” he said.
We hung up shortly after, all three of us elated. In a matter of hours, through the sheer power of WhatsApp, every family member, friend, and acquaintance of my parents all over the world would be notified.
My parents were busy with my uncle, and I wanted to give them this moment of pride and joy. I would tell them about Yuvan later.
I giddily texted my girls in group chat, and was bombarded in return by a dozen exclamations.
I texted Daniel right after, notified all of my interviewers who had yet to decide, went to the hospital to check on a few patients, and then headed home through atrocious city traffic. But even Houston gridlock wasn’t going to deflate my joy.
I walked through the front door, dropped my backpack, kicked off my shoes, and took my water bottle to the kitchen. Exhausted, exhilarated, humbled, proud, and everything in between.
It took a second while washing my water bottle to notice the bouquet of red and white roses, peppermint-striped carnations, and pink peonies tucked into a neat black box directly in front of me.
Mesmerized by the sheer beauty, I walked around the counter and touched the petals, taking in the soothing floral scent and marveling at the fanciness of a boxed arrangement for geometrically perfect blooms.
“Do you like them?” Daniel asked from the corner, his voice smooth and mellow. He was sitting in front of his desk, swiveling back and forth, watching me with the eraser end of his pencil to his chin.
“They’re beautiful.”
He stood and stretched, the hem of his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of stomach, before walking toward me and hugging me from behind. The heat of his chest against my back had me melting into him, his arms around my waist, his chin on my shoulder as he kissed my neck. My breath hitched.
“Congrats on the job,” he said in my ear. “I knew you’d get it. They’re not stupid enough to let you go.”
I closed my eyes and enjoyed a perfect moment. For the first time in a long time, I felt almost whole. The only piece missing was my parents’ approval of Daniel.
“We should celebrate when you get a chance. A dinner, maybe? I know this cozy little restaurant downtown,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, his lips brushing my skin with every word. “It could be a second first date?”
My gut drop-kicked me and I tensed.
He pulled back and cleared his throat. “Unless you don’t want that?”
I turned to him, taking his hands in mine. “I never thought there would be a second chance for me.”
He watched me quietly, thoughtfully.
“You forgive me?” I asked incredulously.
He pulled me into him, his hands caressing the skin above my pants, beneath my blouse. “Yeah. It’s hard not to love you, Pree.”
I blinked. “Are you still in love with me?” I dared to ask, holding my breath for either a heartbreaking stomp or a profound confession.
“Duh,” he said with a chuckle.
I smiled. Oh my lord, my entire body flared hot as I pressed into Daniel. My thoughts wound around all the time we’d lost, all the pain I’d caused, all the regrets and unspoken words. I didn’t want to let that happen ever again because this was good. Beyond good. Daniel was, right beside my parents and my girls, the best thing to have ever happened to me.
“We made mistakes. You owned up to yours, and love doesn’t fail. We learned, we grew, we came around. Life is too short to stay mad. We’re not kids anymore.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight, my heart swelling with so much love. “I would be honored to go on a second first date with you, Daniel.”
He breathed into my hair, his embrace a little stronger. “I have a bottle of celebratory wine for you, too.”
“Ew,” I teased. “Why is it expected to celebrate with bitter drinks?”
His voice dropped when his lips brushed my ear. “Oh, I think there are lots of ways of celebrating.”
I shivered against him. His fingers stroked my lower back, spurring a dizziness that made me want to crash into him. “Like what?”
He pulled away and I instantly missed his warmth. His hand glided down to mine, taking my fingers as he walked toward the bathroom before letting my hand fall from his. The inviting look in his eyes said more than words ever could, ignited by desire and fracturing the last of my attempts to keep myself from him.
If actions were more compelling than looks, then Daniel had that down, too. He peeled off his shirt, exposing the contours of his chest and abs to my eager, devouring gaze.
I ran a hand down the back of my neck, my skin turning hot.
He cocked his head toward the door and disappeared into the bathroom. The play of muscles on his bare back had my stomach tying in knots, like actual visceral knots.
The sound of water spraying in the shower behind a partially opened door captured my attention. I surrendered to smoldering images from our past as they infiltrated my thoughts. How my hands had curiously roamed over every muscle on Daniel’s body in complete awe and gratitude for his beauty. His skin was a perfect shade of dark brown, nearly flawless, including moles here and there and scars from childhood antics and an ambiguous birthmark on his shoulder blade. His muscles were toned and hard and just…manly.
I’d loved how much larger than me he was. Taller, wider. He made me feel not small or insignificant but protected.
He was a room away. Naked.
I bit down on a moan.
I heeded his silent call and pushed the bathroom door open to the sound of cascading water.
I closed the door behind me.
His very sexy, very naked silhouette moved beyond the opaque shower curtain as he lathered up his neck and chest and back and abs and…
Oh my word.
I fanned myself. It was warm in here. Steam rose from the shower and fogged the mirror.
I stepped onto the lush lavender bathroom rug in front of the tub when Daniel turned away and faced the wall. He had his back to me. A beautiful, broad back. A back that suddenly stilled when my hand touched the shower curtain and pressed into him.
He tensed for a moment and wiped his face, or so I suspected from the movements of his silhouette. He turned his head to the side, as if checking out what I was doing. Then he relaxed against my touch. I lifted my other hand and pressed the curtain against his shoulder, feeling him through the thin barrier and running my hands down his back to his hips.
Daniel slowly turned toward me so that my hands glided over his hips and onto his abs. Yep. They were just as solid as I thought they’d be, with ridges and contours of cut muscle. My touch moved up as his silhouette seemed to look down at me while water sprayed his side. He sucked in a breath as I moved up across his abs to his chest, across his shoulders and down his arms.
My palm touched his as he raised his hand against the shower curtain. He slid our unified hands across the curtain while, with his other hand, he moved the curtain aside. The slick barrier escaped us. Our flesh touched. First just our fingers, then our palms, until he completely opened the curtain.
I gasped, partly shocked at the beauty of him. I expected to see him, had seen him before, but having Daniel Thompson right in front of me was no less stunning.
Iridescent sprays of water jumped from his skin and streamed down the side of his face and body. Trails of water dripped down every inch of him. My face flushed because I was staring. Yes. I was most definitely staring. And he was most certainly grinning.
“You just creep on every guy who showers at your place?” he asked, his voice low and raw.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry,” he said as his gaze landed on my mouth. Water dripped from his lips as he spoke, until he finally licked droplets off. He breathed a little faster, a little harder, as steam spiraled up and around us.
Then he bent down and kissed me. Water dribbled down my skin, wetting my lips and my neck and my shirt. His hands squeezed around my waist and pressed me into his frame, soaking my white blouse to see-through dampness—something we both suddenly realized when he pulled back and glanced down. He moaned and my gut dropped. In fact, my knees actually buckled.
But Daniel deftly caught me in his arms and kept me pressed against him, his kisses searing my skin as they moved down my jaw and neck, where he muttered, “Bending over this tub is killing my back. Why don’t you come in here?”
“But shower sex isn’t logically—”
He cut off my sentence by hoisting me onto his hips. My legs automatically, naturally wrapped around him as he carefully closed the shower curtain and turned. My back hit the cold, wet tiled wall, eliciting another gasp and then a deep moan. From me.
In the back of my mind, my brain tried to throw out all the things that could potentially go wrong and endanger us. This wasn’t some movie where shower scenes were staged to be erotic and doable and safe.
“Don’t worry. I got you,” he groaned, somehow reading my thoughts.
His hands moved up my sides, underneath my blouse, to peel off my wet clothes. My mind was hazy in an unprecedented euphoria as I rolled into him, my moans getting louder, faster, as his breathing turned ragged and urgent.
No man could ever shatter me the way Daniel Thompson did. And in this moment of physics-defying shower sex where one more touch threatened to push me over the edge, I knew that no other man would ever get this close to me.
* * *
I shivered beneath the bedspread, my skin and body hyperaware of Daniel’s lingering gaze. I clutched the covers to my chin while he lowered the sheets to his hips, exposing his bare torso to my greedy gaze. His muscles were cut, sinewy, beautifully etched into his frame as he shifted onto his side to face me.
“You still giggle out of control when you climax, huh?” he asked with a goofy grin.
I pulled the blankets to my eyes. I wanted to disappear. Who laughed like a maniac when they orgasmed? Me. Just me. There was something extremely…I dunno…ticklish about having all of my nerves on overdrive.
“It’s cute,” he said and tugged on the bedspread. “It lets me know that I can still get it done.”
“I don’t think there was ever a time when you couldn’t get it done,” I muttered against the covers.
“Are you still embarrassed?”
“No,” I lied.
“Then why are you covering your face? We’ve had much more embarrassing things happen.”
“Don’t even start with that,” I warned as I pulled the bedspread to my neck.
“Like that time I went down on you in your dorm room and your roommate came home and you kneed me in the face trying to get your shirt on. Do you remember that?”
“Stop! That was mortifying.” Not the kneeing-him-in-the-face part, but having anyone walk in and see me trying to cover my crotch with my shirt and Daniel half-naked on the floor holding his face and laughing. And which roommate, of all people? Liya. Grinning like a fool as she said, “Get it, girl!”
He chuckled as I gently shoved him. “Or that time we tried hot wax and—”
“Stop,” I said, covering his mouth with my hand as he laughed into my palm.
