Owen had betrayed me.
And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget that, even though I was now a completely different person than I’d been back then.
Owen lifted a brow. “Does that bother you, the fact that you have to work under me? It’s not like I’ve ever breathed down your neck, Layla. I know you’re perfectly capable of handling your own patients. I didn’t demand to oversee your cases; you brought these files to me.”
I squirmed in my chair just a little, because he was right. I had asked him to review the cases because it was what I’d done with Dr. Fortney. Old habits were hard to break.
I’d always thought it was better to have an extra set of eyes on some cases, and Dr. Fortney had felt the same way. We’d often gone over cases at the end of the day in this office, just like I was doing with Owen right now, and they hadn’t all been my files we’d reviewed together. Some had been perplexing cases of Dr. Fortney’s, too. The now-retired physician had been the one to teach me that sometimes it was wise to get a fresh perspective on a case from another practitioner.
The reason I’d continued to maintain that habit with Owen when he’d taken Dr. Fortney’s place a few months ago escaped me at the moment. Maybe I just wanted the best for the people under my care, even if it meant consulting with an asshole to get that. “Sometimes I just appreciate a second opinion,” I told him curtly.
Okay, that had sounded a little too defensive, but it was the truth. “My priority is to give the best treatment possible, so it helps to see if I may have overlooked something. Dr. Fortney and I reviewed a lot of cases together. It’s just habit, I guess.”
“I don’t mind looking at them at all, and I’m all for sharing our expertise on any of the patients here at the clinic. However, you didn’t really answer my question,” he reminded me, his green-eyed gaze pinning me to the chair I was sitting in across from his desk.
Dammit! Why had Owen needed to become so damn attractive as a grown adult?
In high school, he’d been a nerdy guy with thick glasses and a brain way too big for his lean teenage body.
Now, a decade later, he looked good enough to be a male model, and I was strangely uncomfortable with those changes.
His intelligence had always been intimidating, so it definitely didn’t help that his sharp brain was now encased inside a droolworthy, muscular body that delighted every one of my female hormones.
I took a deep breath. “No, it doesn’t bother me,” I confessed as I released the air from my lungs. “I respect your opinions and skills.”
Truthfully, how could I not? He’d graduated from a top-rated medical school at the top of his class, in an accelerated program, for God’s sake. He’d then completed his three-year family-medicine residency at one of the most respected teaching and research hospitals in the country.
There was no argument that he was impressively qualified, even if he was just starting his own practice.
I just don’t like . . . him!
But did I really need to like the guy if I respected his professional competency?
No. No, I really don’t need to like him personally at all to learn from him.
Even if he was technically my boss, I would have much preferred that we had an amicable relationship.
Owen Sinclair had been a close friend in high school until he’d burned me, but that had happened a decade ago. None of his behavior now led me to believe that he wasn’t a very good physician. I’d seen him in action for a couple of months now, and even though I had my personal differences with Owen, I was in awe of the man professionally.
I just have to stay professional. I cannot let my personal feelings interfere with my work.
Okay, so maybe I’d had a bad case of puppy love for Owen by the end of our senior year in high school, but I’d gotten over that in a hurry. Once I’d realized he wasn’t the guy I thought he was, that stupid teenage longing had disappeared in a heartbeat.
“We could discuss all this at dinner tonight,” he said hopefully. “We both worked through lunch. Let’s go get something to eat.”
“No, thank you,” I said snippily. “I have other plans.”
It wasn’t the first time Owen had suggested doing something outside of the clinic, but I wasn’t about to go there with him.
I’d trusted him once, and he’d betrayed that trust. I had no desire to get chummy with him again as an adult.
We worked together, and I had to maintain a professional demeanor with Owen, but I didn’t have to like or hang out with the guy.
Owen released a masculine sigh as he leaned back in his office chair.
His lab coat and scrubs were gone. He’d cleaned up in the clinic shower, and he’d put on a pair of dark jeans and a forest-green tee once office hours had ended, which was a really good, casual look on him.
I could almost see the old friend I’d once known, without the scrubs and the lab coat.
Not that I’d really been paying attention to how he looked, or what he did, but it was damn hard not to notice all kinds of things about him when we worked in the same space.
Oh, sweet Jesus, who was I fooling? It was difficult not to see a man like Owen, even if I didn’t like him personally.
I’d have to be completely blind to be capable of completely ignoring him.
His jet-black hair was cropped, but there was just enough length to see that the mass of locks tended to curl if it wasn’t cut short. His sharp green eyes, with thick, long eyelashes most women would kill to possess, were so compelling that they were almost mesmerizing.
Unfortunately, his powerful body was just as irresistible as his handsome face, and I couldn’t help but stare as he reclined in his chair, that mouthwatering, masculine form on full display as he stretched like a lazy cat.
He’s my boss, for God’s sake. I have to stop looking at him like I would be more than happy to devour him for dinner. I need to remember that I can’t stand the man—therefore, it shouldn’t matter if he looks good enough to eat.
I shook myself and forced my eyes from his powerful, ripped body.
Owen lifted a brow. “Are you ever going to explain how we went from being the best of friends in high school to this cold, professional relationship, Layla? How did we go from sharing almost every secret we had with each other . . . to this?”
Maybe you shared some of your secrets, but you know nothing about mine!
I shook my head. “We’re adults now, Dr. Sinclair, and I think you know exactly why I’m not interested in hanging out with you.”
He popped his chair straight again and put his arms on his desk. “That’s just it. I don’t understand. You just stopped talking to me sometime near the end of our senior year. No explanation. Nothing. I never understood it. And then I was off to Boston for college, and we never resolved it.”
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t allow myself to think about my past relationship with Owen. It was the only way I could work with him without punching him in the face. “We both grew up,” I informed him. “So let’s just drop it. It was high-school stuff, for God’s sake. We’ve both come a long way since then.”
I was never sure exactly when I’d stopped seeing Owen as just a really good friend in high school. At some point during senior year, that friendship had turned into a major crush that had left me swooning over the boy I’d once called a friend. The only good thing about that infatuation was that I’d never told Owen about it.