I hate going to the doctors, but that’s not my problem right now. It’s that the new physician in town won’t stop trying to make me his.

Alexi

I hate doctors.

Hate everything about going to see them.

The cold rooms, the stern faces, the way they act like they know your whole life because of a clipboard.

So when I got sick, I put it off as long as humanly possible, but my fever is getting worse, so I bite the bullet and drag my miserable butt into Wolf Valley Medical.

I’m prepared for a shot or some vile-tasting medicine.

What I wasn’t prepared for was Dr. Hugh Mercer.

Tall, broad, annoyingly handsome, and so grumpy he makes thunderstorms look cheerful.

He should’ve been intimidating, but instead he was almost…gentle.

For some reason, he looked at me like I was the most important thing he’d seen all day.

I had rushed out when we were done, but now every time I turn a corner, he’s there.

Checking on me.

Asking if I’m eating.

Offering to drive me home.

And I keep doing the only reasonable thing I can think of.

Running in the opposite direction.

Hugh

I’ve been a doctor for years.

I’ve met every kind of patient—nervous, stubborn, loud, angry, but nothing prepared me for Alexi.

She walked into my exam room with flushed cheeks, a runny nose, and enough attitude to take down an entire ER.

And I fell.

Hard.

She hates doctors, hates asking for help, and hates that I can read her fever from across the room, but I don’t care.

I care about her.

The woman who refuses to slow down even when she’s sick.

The woman who blushes every time I get too close.

The woman who keeps staring at me like I’m the one who needs medical attention.

Now I just have to figure out how to get her to stop running long enough to see the truth.

She doesn’t need a doctor.

She needs me.

And I’m not giving up on her or us.