Prince Charming, M.D.. Susan Mallery
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his eyes to remember. The image was so clear, so striking, it was almost like looking at a life-sized photograph. He could see Dana in black jeans and a fuzzy peach sweater the exact color of her tempting mouth, clutching her books to her chest. She’d been all of fifteen, a sophomore in high school. Big eyes and a smile that lit up the room.
He’d told himself she was too young. After all, he was a senior, only a few months shy of graduation. But something about her had appealed to him. Maybe it was the way she blushed every time he caught her looking at him. Or the faint stutter when she’d managed to return his casual “hi” after the championship basketball game.
He told himself not to go there—the past would offer nothing but heartache. The past was finished and couldn’t be changed. He was ten kinds of fool for wanting to relive it. Still, he relaxed in his chair and closed his eyes.
He could smell the rain of the afternoon. Ironically, it had been April, as it was now...only a lifetime ago. He recalled standing by his locker as one girl after the other said hello to him. Even then he’d had an undeserved reputation for having a way with “chicks.” They, his friends joked, playing on the word, “flocked to him.” At seventeen, he hadn’t understood the phenomenon any more than he did now, but back then it had seemed more of a blessing than a curse. He could get as many dates as he wanted, with any girl he wanted. After taking out a few of the prettiest ones, he found he needed more than someone to look at He wanted to care about the girl he was with; he wanted to be intrigued. Which was why he’d finally gathered the courage to talk to Dana.
Trevor smiled at how nervous he’d been. He’d felt terror that she would notice his shaking and sweating or that his voice would betray him by cracking. She’d been standing with her two close friends, Katie and Lee, friends who were still important to her. The three girls had looked at him, but he’d seen only Dana.
“Hi,” he’d managed, pleased his voice didn’t crack.
She’d blushed, but had managed to hold his gaze. “Hi, Trevor.”
Idiotically, he was thrilled she knew his name. In his head he understood that he was a popular senior and many underclass students knew who he was. But this was Dana. That she had taken the time to figure out who he was made him feel he could conquer the world.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Fine.” Her voice was low and soft.
He pointed to her math text. “You taking Murphy’s class?”
She nodded.
Mr. Murphy was known for his Friday tests and not grading on a curve. “How are you doing in algebra?”
“Pretty good. He’s hard, but I like math, so I don’t mind.”
He tried to think of something funny to say, or something that would put her at ease. But his usual wordplay had deserted him. He could only think about how much he wanted to make her smile, and maybe hold her hand.
“I was, ah—” he cleared his throat “—going to the library tonight to study. About seven-thirty. You want to come?”
Technically, it wasn’t a date. In the peculiar world that was Honeygrove High School, the library was considered neutral territory. A safe place for a potentially interested boy and girl to test the waters. Many a relationship had blossomed or fizzled between the tall rows of dusty books.
From the corner of his eye he saw Lee and Katie exchange amazed glances. Seniors didn’t date sophomores. Trevor knew he would take some heat from his buddies, but he didn’t care. There was something about Dana. Something that made him—
“I’d have to be home by nine-thirty,” she said, and squeezed her eyes shut. “Dumb, huh? But it’s a school night and my mom insists.”
When she didn’t open her eyes, he realized she was waiting for him to mock her. Instead, he wanted to grab her in his arms and give her a bear hug. Or shout his pleasure to the world. In a roundabout way she’d just said yes.
“No problem.” Now that he’d been accepted, his ability to be cool returned in spades. “I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”
Her eyes popped open, along with her mouth. She blinked. “You will?”
“Sure. See ya.”
He walked casually down the hall, greeting friends, acting as though nothing extraordinary had happened. Of course, no one knew that his heart pounded like a jackhammer as he worried about finding a secluded table at the library and at the same moment tried to figure out how he would have time to wash his car before he picked her up.
When he reached his classroom, he glanced back. Dana stood with her friends. The three girls were talking frantically and gesturing. Dana’s smile was so wide she looked as if she’d just been crowned a beauty queen. His lips curved up in response. Tonight couldn’t come fast enough.
* * *
It was 9:16. Trevor let his wrist rest casually over his steering wheel so she wouldn’t know he’d been checking the time. Dana’s mother had been pretty impressed with him. Parents usually liked him well enough, so he doubted Mrs. Rowan would mind if her daughter was a few minutes late. But he was determined to get Dana inside on time. He’d learned that by sticking to the rules from the beginning, he and his date found it easier to negotiate changes later. Besides, he didn’t want to make Dana uncomfortable. A voice in his gut told him this wasn’t going to be a casual relationship. He was in it for the long term and he could afford to take it slow.
Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t kiss her. If she cooperated.
She was staring at the algebra book on her lap. Her left index finger traced the edge of the spine up and down. He could feel her nervousness, her uncertainty, and he guessed she’d never been out with a boy before. Which probably meant she hadn’t been kissed. The thought of being her first pleased him.
He leaned forward slightly and rested his right hand on her shoulder. “I had a good time.”
She looked up, eyes wide like a cornered animal. She nodded. “Me, too.”
“You’re pretty smart.”
Dismay filled her face. “Oh. Sorry.”
“No. Don’t apologize. I like smart girls. I can talk to them. They say stuff back.” He grinned now, remembering their heated discussion about the right way to solve a word problem. “You’re not afraid to tell me what you think.” “My mom says I’m too outspoken.”
She was warm and the peach sweater was as soft as it looked. He moved his hand closer to her neck, then stroked the delicate skin under her ear. Her breath caught and he felt a shiver race through her.
“Outspoken is good,” he said lightly, relieved it was dark in the car. She wouldn’t be able to see his predictable reaction to her nearness. It was embarrassing. He’d gotten hard the second he’d seen her and things hadn’t changed in the past two hours.
“You think so? I’m not sure. My mom says—”
He leaned over the console between them and angled his head. She stopped talking and froze in place, her mouth slightly parted, her eyes still wide. His lips touched hers.
Lightning ripped through him. Heat and need and feelings he’d never experienced before. He was trembling and felt as if he were about to explode. Fighting the desire to haul her hard against him, he kept the kiss light and still, trying to give her time to get used to what they were doing. After about a minute, he drew back somewhat.
Her eyes were closed, her mouth still parted. She smiled and touched a hand to her lips. “Wow.” Her eyes opened and she covered her face with her hands. “Oh, no. I didn’t really say that, did I?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you did, and I’m glad. I thought it was a ‘wow,’ too.”
She peeked at him between her fingers. “You did?”
“Promise.”