Shifting Gears (4 page)

Cool name. Wonder what it
means.

I open the door to find a very large,
snow-white German Shepherd with the biggest blue eyes peering back
at me. He’s absolutely gorgeous and though his size could be
intimidating—maybe even a little scary—to some, to me, he looks
quite huggable.

“Well hello, Kilo! What a beautiful
big boy you are!” I turn to introduce myself to Kilo’s owner.
“Hello, I’m—”

My voice is stolen as my throat knots.
Electric blue eyes are staring back at me. I gasp—quietly, thank
God. The gravity in the room disappears, and I struggle to stay on
my feet. It’s Holt. Sitting. In one of my exam rooms. With a dog. I
mean, really, what kind of sick twisted shit is this? God, I’d
thought for sure he was passing through town because I hadn’t seen
him since that night at The Rox two weeks ago.

I stare at him blankly.

The room is small, and it seems even
smaller with him in it. He’s so close, I can smell him. That
woodsy, outdoor smell that ignited my senses before has my head
spinning. I can’t escape. I stand there, speechless. Unable to
move. Mortified.

Wake up, Niki. Get your
shit together.

In the light of the exam room, I can
see him more clearly than I did the other night. Twenty-nine now,
there are creases in his face that weren’t there before, and he
looks tired. The past three years must not have been good to him. I
take some satisfaction in that thought. My gaze lingers on the
small scar below his left eye. That’s new. I want to run my tongue
along it. Kiss it.

Damn it.

He’s always had that badass look about
him and the scar intensifies it. Scarier. Sexier, if that’s even
possible.

His chiseled arms are crossed over his
worn t-shirt. It doesn’t take much imagination for me to feel those
arms wrapped around me. My gaze trails to one of his tattoos,
peeking out from the sleeve of his shirt. I flash back to lying
next to him, my head resting on his chest, tracing its delicate
lines with my fingertips, or when I was brave enough, my
tongue.

His jeans are torn in spots, making me
want to glide my hands in them to feel that body again, those
strong legs, tight and toned. And with his biker boots, Holt is
still proving he can make anything he wears look good. He isn’t
about style. He’s about whatever the hell is clean. That hasn’t
changed. One look at his hair—still as it was before, unkempt and
needing a cut—has me remembering grabbing it with my fists while he
thrust himself into me.

The knife is twisting further, deeper
into my heart, but my body trembles, longs for him to touch me
again.

Damn it, Niki. Get it
together. Shit. Don’t let him see that you’re weak. You’re
different now. Stronger.

I take small breaths, forcing the
thoughts of us back into the darkness before I explode with either
tears or fists. I grit my teeth as I look at him. He looks calm.
Relaxed, even. Yeah, why would he be anything but? He doesn’t know
who the hell I am. He’s sitting there, staring back at me, sprawled
in the chair.

All I can think about is walking over
and straddling him. I am straight up pathetic. How the hell do I
still have these feelings, instead of hating him for what he did to
me? Like the first time I laid eyes on him, he entices me, speaks
to my body.

I can’t get through this. Being alone
with him in this tiny room. Having to pretend I don’t know him.
That I’ve never looked into his eyes while he gave me orgasm after
orgasm. God.

I’m not sure how long I stand,
staring, but eventually Holt clears his throat and speaks. The
sound of his voice doesn’t help the slippery slope I’m on.
“Hello.”

That one word, the way he said it,
sounds more like he’s saying,
I want to lay you down and fuck
you right here.

My cheeks are hot, and the pulsing
ache between my legs grows. What the hell is wrong with
me?

Get it together, Niki. You
can do this. Don’t let him see. Remember your plan.

Finally, I manage to speak. “Hello,
I’m Dr. Niki Stringer, and I’ll be examining Kilo
today.”

I manage not to choke on my words and
escape his stare as I turn away from him and walk to Kilo, who’s
sitting calmly on the exam table.

“Are there any concerns or problems
that bring you in?” I brush my hand along Kilo’s thick, snowy coat.
Oddly, there’s a silence. Did he not hear me? Shit. I have to turn
around, to look at him. Shit.

I force myself to turn, making eye
contact briefly as I shift my gaze to Kilo’s file, flipping through
its blank pages. My question still unanswered, the silence is
deafening. I raise my eyes to his, and I’m met by a confused look.
His eyes are locked on me, his jaw tight. Does he not understand my
question? What the hell?

I start to ask again when confusion is
quickly replaced by a look of anger. He cuts me off and abruptly
says, “He hasn’t been eating.”

I quickly turn away to face Kilo
again. “Good boy. Let me see those pretty teeth.”

I exam him and discover he’s as
huggable as I thought.

The chair squeaks as Holt shifts in it
as if he’s anxious or ready to go. I resist the urge to turn around
and say,
Get the hell out then already. It’s not like you’re not
used to just getting up and disappearing.

I finish Kilo’s exam and take the
samples I need from him. I give him a reassuring hug and, with my
back still to Holt, ask, “Is he up to date on his
shots?”

“Not sure. I found him as a stray
about a year ago and ain’t had the time to take him to the vet
until today.” His voice is taut.

Somewhere deep, my heart melts at the
thought of Holt rescuing this poor beautiful creature. I carry on,
hiding my pleasure at his kindness toward an animal. “Are you okay
with us giving him the necessary vaccinations?”

“Yeah, do what you gotta do.” He
almost sounds angry.

I give Kilo a hug and leave the room
without speaking or looking back at Holt. As I shut the door behind
me, I brace myself against the wall. The deep sigh comes out,
almost on its own, releasing all the anxiety I’ve been holding in
for the past fifteen minutes of hell. How was I able to do that?
Damn, this is going to be harder than I thought.

But he’s not going to get it. No way
in hell I’m giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he actually
meant something to me, that he affected me. That I missed him when
he left. That I cried. A lot. That men have been in my life since
him, but not one came close to giving me what he did. Not even
close. He’s not getting that. Doesn’t deserve it.

After collecting Kilo’s results, I
stand outside the door. I take a deep breath and walk back into the
room where the man who made my heart stop then later took it and
smashed it all to hell is sitting.

You can do this, Niki.
Almost over.

I quickly cut across the room to the
counter, my back to Holt, and busy myself spreading and
straightening the papers in my hands out along the
countertop.

Almost over.
Almost.

“Kilo’s test results came back
positive for heartworms. I’ve prescribed medication for it, but he
will need a follow up in one month.”

I take a deep breath, screaming at my
brain to relax, let the words flow without choking. I turn toward
him and look directly into his face, still as tight as it was
before I left the room. “Do you have any questions?”

His voice is still flat. “No, we’re
good.”

What the hell is up with that? Is he
angry that I’m not being fast enough or something? Doesn’t like the
hospital? I mean, what kind of shit is this?

Still barely able to keep my cool,
concealing the screaming going on inside my head, I continue. “Okay
then. Well, if you’ll go back up front to reception, Katy will set
you up with your next appointment and get that medication to you.”
I shut the file folder and turn away from him. “Thanks for bringing
Kilo in. We look forward to seeing him again.” I walk over to Kilo
and give him a squeeze. “Be a good boy.”

I stiffen as Holt approaches, clasping
Kilo’s leash to his collar. He doesn’t say a word as Kilo bolts off
the table and the two head for the door.

But then he stops as they make it to
the doorway. He stands there for a moment, not moving.

My breathing is erratic. Cold prickly
fingers tease my spine, baiting me to turn around and look. I
protest. Stand my ground.

“Nicolette suits you
better.”

All the blood in my body is sucked
out, and I’m suddenly numb. I jerk my head around to look at him,
but he’s gone.

Oh. My. God. He remembers
me.

To everyone else, even Dad or Aunt
Helen, I’m Niki. Only Holt called me Nicolette. He said it fit my
personality. It was an elegant name, just like me. I laughed—with
my wild hair that has a mind of its own and my avoidance of the
projectile weapons better known as heels, I’m anything but
elegant—but I secretly loved it. It was the way it sounded when he
said it, the way it flowed off his lips. It made me feel like
something precious. After hearing it again, after going so long
with its absence, still gave me that same feeling. Of being on a
pedestal. No matter how much I deny it. My undoing.

It’s near the end of my shift, and I’m
trying to focus on finishing up the charts for the day. I need
Cass. She lived through the destruction that was Holt before, and I
know she can bring me back down, calm me, and beat the hell out of
him (or at least put up a good fight) if I give the word. Now that
I know he remembers me, it changes things. A lot. Why didn’t he
approach me that night at The Rox? Try to talk to me, explain to
me, something. Anything. Instead, he was all over the woman he went
to after getting bored with me. Instead—

“Dr. Stringer, can I ask you a
question?”

I was so caught up in my anger, I
didn’t hear Beth coming and jump at the sound of her voice.
Standing beside me, she’s sifting through the files, helping me
clean up. She reminds me a lot of myself when I first started as a
technician at Hobbs. Young, ambitious, and ready to
serve.

“I was wondering if you knew Mr.
Maddox. You know, the new client we picked up today? The one with
the white German Shepherd?”

I look at her, hesitating. Where the
hell this is going? “Why do you ask?”

“Well, while I was starting his
paperwork and getting Kilo settled, he asked me if you were the
doctor he was scheduled to see, and if you weren’t, he wanted
you.”

What the hell? So he knew it would be
me walking through that door? I was still in vet school the last
time he saw me. Either he’d asked around or taken a chance I would
be here. Damn him. And he sat there while I pretended not to know
him. Why? Why would he do that?

I lie to Beth. The fewer people who
know the history between Holt and me, the better. It’s bad enough
that most everyone at The Rox will probably remember him, since
that’s where he spent a lot of his time. With me.

“Someone in town must’ve dropped my
name to him or something.” I walk away.

****

I’m on my third beer of the night,
listening to a new indie band I’d never heard of, enjoying their
acoustic set. I called Cass on my way home from work and told her
about Holt showing up at the hospital, and the discovery that he
did remember me. I needed a distraction, so we decided to hit The
Rox for a few hours. Clay and Ang are with us, so I can’t be as
open as I want to be about Holt being at the clinic.

I still hadn’t confided in either of
them about Holt. Clay knows, however, that all that is Holt Maddox
is not welcome in our circle, and at this point, I’m pretty certain
that, given the chance, he won’t hesitate to make sure he knows it.
That’s how Clay rolls. He’s a little badass in his own right, and
he always looks out for us.

I think Clay and Ang can tell I’m in a
slumpy mood, assuming, probably, that I had a bad day at work.
They, along with Cass, are trying to cheer me up, being the
attentive friends that I can count on. There’s no chance though.
The damage has been done. Pathetic.

“This band is pretty good,” Cass says,
taking me out of my thoughts.

Tonight’s not nearly as crowded as The
Rox is on weekends. Thursday is the one night of the week they open
the stage for new talent, like the band we’re listening to. Anybody
with a voice or an instrument can take the stage.

I don’t normally go out on weeknights,
because I can’t hang like Cass, Ang, and Clay can. Tonight is an
exception, but I still keep glancing at my watch. “Cass, it’s
almost ten. I’m gonna get us another round then head
home.”

“Okay, hun.” She’s come back to the
table from dancing with yet another heartbreaker.

After waiting at the crowded bar, I
scoop up the bottles as the bartender slides them my way and turn
away to head back to our table.

“Hey,” someone says in my
ear.

I look beside me and see Holt standing
there. Shit. Where the hell did he come from? He wasn’t there a
second ago.