Every Glance (Every Life #3) (9 page)

“Uh oh.” Ella shakes her head and laughs at me. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at that woman like you’re a lost puppy. I thought you actually wanted to
win
Sawyer’s bet.”

“And I will. I just know her. We went to school together.”

“Oh, yeah? High school or col—Whoa! Did she kiss you?” Ella takes a few steps to close the distance between us, grabbing my chin and tilting it back.

“Of course not. Why?”

She pulls a tiny makeup compact from her drawer and holds the mirror up in my face. I see absolutely nothing that would cause any…oh.

On my neck, just below my jawline, there’s a perfect print of two full coral lips. The very same color that Ms. Avery was wearing. “Damn.”

“I can’t believe you were—.”

“Oh, relax, El,” Stan interrupts as he shuffles into the office. “I saw Linda Avery corner him. And believe me, Dalton looked just as stunned as you do right now.”

She shakes her head so hard that her dark bob swirls around to slap her in the face. “Impossible. I was with him the whole time during that exam, and I followed her back out to the waiting room.”

“I guess she snuck back into the hallway as soon as the phone rang. I just happened to have my office door open enough to see her sneaking by, so I peeked out to see what was going on. You handled yourself way better than I would have, Dalton.”

“You’re telling me that she came onto you? Right in that hallway?” Ella stands and points out the door. “And I didn’t get to see it?”

I throw my head back and sigh. “Gee. Thanks. First, I’m playing my patients, and now you’re upset that you didn’t see one of them maul me in the hallway?”

“Well, I was more upset when I was thinking it was the woman you were all googly eyed over just now.”

I snicker, rolling my eyes at Ella. “Yeah, like she would’ve ever paid me a minute of attention. She never has. But that does explain why she was looking at me funny. I thought she recognized me. But
of course
she didn’t.”

“Resentment doesn’t look good on you, you know. You don’t have the legs for it.”

Stan and I both scrunch up our faces and look at each other, wondering where Ella is planning on going with this euphemism. Because you never can really tell. Last week, we were talking about this older couple that comes in frequently. They are constantly bickering and grumbling at each other, but then you’ll see them do sweet things like holding doors open for each other and holding hands. Ella started talking about mixing cinnamon into eggs and milk for french toast.

I still haven’t figured that one out.

I’m waiting for her explanation when my dodged bullet comes in the form of my ringing cell phone. “Hey,” I answer, waving at Ella and Stan before disappearing into my office and nudging the door closed with my foot.

“Hey, yourself. Are you still working?” Kyler has called me the last couple of evenings to talk. We still haven’t made an attempt at another date yet; although, I’m supposed to be her date for her parents’ anniversary party tomorrow afternoon. I’m not sure if I really count that as an actual date or not.

“I am. I just have an hour or so of paperwork to do, and then I’m headed to the gym. What about you? What do you have going on tonight?”

I hear a rhythmic tapping through the phone’s speaker. A sound I’ve learned is Kyler’s nervous habit of drumming her pencil on the table. “Homework and frozen pizza. Sounds exciting, right?”

“Glad those days are long over for me.” I sink into my chair and kick my feet up on my desk. “By the way, I saw, uh…”

I begin to tell her that I saw Simon today, but being the genius I am, I now realize that Devyn Rion is Kyler’s sister.

Oh, shit.

The one person that knows some incredibly embarrassing things about me. The one person that witnessed the torment I endured my entire high school career. The one person I secretly pined after, no matter what she thought about me.

I can’t let Kyler know that I know Devyn. I doubt it would take much thought before Devyn realizes that I’m the guy her friends called “Fairy Boy.”

“Who did you see?”

“Oh, uh, Simon. He was in the clinic with a cough today. I also met your sister, Devyn. She seems…nice.” That last word hung in my throat for a second, even my mouth didn’t want to let out that outright lie.

“She mentioned he was coughing yesterday, but honestly it happens at least once a month. He’s always so sick.” She pauses for a moment. “And Devyn isn’t a bad person, Dalton. I know she might come across a little bitchy, but she really has a lot on her plate right now.”

“She actually didn’t say much, and she thanked me. I didn’t think anything of it. Promise.” I was too wrapped up in high school again to think anything of it.

“I’m glad. Sometimes, she’s a little short with people, and they get the wrong idea. She’s had it rough over the last few years, so it’s just her way of coping.”

Yeah, she’s had it rough. You can’t escape karma.

“Ooh,” she sighs. “You’ll get to see her again tomorrow at the party. I’m sure you’ll see how sweet she really is. And Simon will be excited to see you, too. He’s fascinated with medical procedures and blood and…ugh…other equally disgusting things. You two will be quite a pair.”

“I can’t wait.” I
so
can.

“Me either.”

No, really. I can wait. I’m beginning to think the hospital needs me tomorrow. “I’ll be there to pick you up a little after three. That should put us there right before it starts.”

“It means a lot that you’re coming with me, you know.”

She’s going to owe me. Big. “It’s my pleasure, Kyler. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, goodnight. And I’ll try not to be a nervous, blabbering idiot tomorrow.”

Yeah. Me, too.

“WOW. YOU CLEAN up nice.” Kyler steps onto the front porch, pulling the heavy wooden door closed behind her, but my attention is caught by the curtains moving in the window. “Oh, don’t mind her. That’s just my roommate checking you out. And just so you know, I think a white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves is incredibly sexy.”

I can feel that “aw-shucks” smile of mine making itself known. “Thanks. And you look gorgeous, as always. That dress is stunning on you.”

Her look is a sharp contrast to how she usually looks, though. She’s typically in worn jeans and a soft t-shirt. Today, she’s wearing a classic-style party dress with a fitted bodice complete with a thin matching belt and full skirt that reaches just below her knees. The deep periwinkle blue is softened by an unbuttoned baby pink sweater with tiny fabric flowers sewn along the front.

Usually, her hair is thrown back into a messy low ponytail, but today, she’s wearing it down. Soft honey-blonde curls cascade down to the middle of her back, and the front is pulled back with a small jeweled hair pin.

She looks even younger somehow. Innocent and demure, despite the fact that she told me my shirt is sexy. It’s a lethal combination. The deviant inside of me wants to desecrate that innocent façade—because I know for a fact it’s only a front—and take her to her parents’ party all mussed and wrinkled from rolling around in my backseat.

However, the part of me that I tend to ignore the most—my brain…in my actual head—makes me wonder what I’m doing with her. She is quite a bit younger. Not just in age, but her actions show it, too. She likes to go to house parties and clubs and drinking with her friends. She likes staying up late and sleeping until noon. She’s going to graduate college soon, but she still has no idea what she’s going to do with her degree. She’s a waitress and a babysitter.

But still…I can’t help but thinking she may be a great balance for me. I take myself way too seriously. I’m obsessed with success. A fun day, to me, is a busy one at the hospital. I actually like to pay my bills as soon as they come in the mail, and I get a little excited when it’s time to balance my checkbook. I prefer to read medical journals instead of the latest thriller. I’m boring and set in my ways and responsible to a fault.

I think this is why I don’t date anyone for long. They don’t fit very neatly into my life. I don’t know if there’s any woman who could ever understand my need for routine and control. And I can feel their judgmental stares as soon as I allow them to see pieces of the real me.

Kyler may get there eventually, too. But she’s younger and more carefree than those I usually date, so there’s a chance that it won’t bother her as much. There’s a chance that she’ll accept me for who I am.

If
her sister doesn’t realize who I am and fill Kyler’s head with who I used to be.

“Dalton? Did you hear me?”

When did we even get in my car?

“Sorry. I was, uh, thinking about a patient of mine. There’s a slight possibility I’ll have to leave the party a little early to go check on him. What were you saying?” There. Now I have a way out if I need one. And it’s not a total lie. One of my patients was admitted today for kidney stones, so he may need some moral support while passing those bastards.

“Oh, that’s okay. If you need to leave, I can have someone take me home.” She buckles her seatbelt and adjusts her skirt. “I was saying that my mom would’ve had a fit if I’d worn jeans today. She buys these dresses for me all the time, hoping and praying that I’ll start wearing them. So I thought I’d humor her today.”

“I think you look amazing. I really do.”

“And she’ll be even more impressed that I’m bringing a date…who happens to be wearing perfectly pressed slacks and a dress shirt. She’s going to flip her lid.”

I turn onto the highway and set the cruise control, relaxing back and resting my arm on the console. I turn my palm up, and without hesitation, Kyler slips her hand into mine. “You’re kind of making me wonder what kind of men you’ve brought home to your parents.”

She giggles softly. “Well, if you really want to know, there was Kirk, who had a terrible habit of wearing the same shirt every day because he was too careless to do his laundry. Byron’s obscenities knew no bounds, especially in the presence of my parents. David was just flat-out lazy and refused to keep a job. And most recently, there was Luke. We dated for over a year and even talked about getting engaged, but he hated to be around my parents. I’m not sure why, but their relationship was strained from the very beginning. He ended up moving away a few months ago, saying he wanted a new start somewhere far from here. Needless to say, my parents haven’t ever been very fond of the guys I’ve introduced to them, but with good reason. You know, hindsight and all.”

“Well, I’m a definite shoo-in then,” I joke. “I’m wearing a clean shirt
and
I showered twice today.”

Her eyebrows rise so high, I see them from the corner of my eye. “Twice? Seriously?”

“That’s
my
bad habit. I showered when I got up, and then I ended up going for a run before lunch, so I showered again.”

The whole truth is that I woke up unusually early, unable to sleep because I was worried about today. I stressed over what to wear, which is extremely uncharacteristic of me, and I couldn’t stop stressing about it. So I ended up going for a run to get rid of a little nervous energy.
Twelve miles
of nervous energy. I came back with a clearer head and too tired to worry about it anymore.

“I think that’s a bad habit I can live with. And you already know mine: talking too much. Somehow, it hasn’t scared you off yet.”

I give her hand a gentle squeeze. It feels nice. “I can’t keep up with what you’re saying long enough for it to scare me away.”

Kyler squeezes back. “That’s good, I guess.” She straightens in her seat and points out the windshield with her free hand. “Ooh, turn right there. That’s the street.”

I turn next to the long, brick-framed sign that announces my arrival into Grand Terrace Village. The narrow, paved lane is bordered by nice homes and well-groomed shrubbery. The neighborhood isn’t necessarily affluent, but definitely upper-middle class. Each lot holds a brick or stone multi-level home with bold architecture and arched windows, making it obvious that the same person developed this entire subdivision.

“Nice place,” I say, feeling a kick of panic in my gut.

She shrugs. “It’s okay. My dad designed and built all of these houses.”

Damn, I’m good.

“That’s it,” she says, pointing again. “At the very end.”

The home looks exactly the same as the rest but on a much larger, grander scale. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you live in a duplex with a roommate when you could just live here with your parents? It’s big enough that you wouldn’t ever even run into each other.”

“Oh, you know how it is when you live at home. I needed some freedom to spread my wings a little. Besides, I moved out when I started college so I could party all night and have boys over without my parents’ permission. You
do
remember what it’s like to be eighteen, right?” She nudges my shoulder playfully. “I’ve grown out of that for the most part, thankfully, but I still like having my own space.”

“I remember.” But when I was eighteen, I didn’t experience any of that, so I’ll just have to go along with it.

I drive between the cars lining the street to turn into the wide circle drive, parking at the end of a long row of cars. If I need to make a quick escape, this space is my best bet. I jog around the car, opening Kyler’s door before she can do it herself.