Just moments after we step into the medical office and I check in, my name is called before Emmett and I can even take a seat. A pretty blonde in pink scrubs holds the door open for us, introducing herself as Tanya. She smiles brightly, having us follow her down the hall to a small cubicle to get my weight and height.

"Ninety-nine pounds and two ounces," she says as Emmett raises his brow at me. He hasn't said it yet, but I know he's still mad at me for waiting so long to tell him I wasn't feeling well. I've always been small, but after losing fifteen pounds, I know I look sickly still. "Step against the wall for me?"

I do as she asks, waiting for her to say five-two before stepping away and following her back to an exam room. Instead of the usual sterility of exam rooms, I'm surprised to find how nice this place is. Warm and comforting, it feels more spa-like than a doctor's office. Even the exam table is fancy, nicely cushioned and lower to the ground.

Picking up a teal gown from the table, Tanya hands it to me and tells me to undress from the waist up and tie it in front.

"I'll wait outside, Bells," Emmett says as I watch his eyes linger on Tanya's chest. Opening the door, he holds it for her with a smile. "Ladies first."

Oh, Jesus Christ. I roll my eyes as they leave, shutting the door behind them before pulling off my hoodie and T-shirt. Folding my clothes in a neat pile, I shove my bra deep in my purse before pulling the oversized gown over my shoulders and tying it tightly. Though the table is fancy, it's still cursed with the paper that crinkles loudly with each slight movement.

Calling out for Emmett, I expect to find him and Tanya enter the room, but instead Dr. Lumberjack comes through with him, looking unbelievably handsome in a blue dress shirt and the usual white coat.

Holy fucking shit. Okay, so he can also pull off the polished up look too. Running a hand through shaggy dark hair, his gorgeous smile lights up the room as he closes the door behind him.

"Good afternoon, Bella," he says, holding his hand out for mine. You know, like this is our first meeting and I didn't have it in a vice grip yesterday. "How are you feeling?"

As his hand wraps around mine, I feel my heart skip a beat and know I'm blushing. And not cute blushing either. No, when it happens to me, it spreads down my neck and chest, making my skin as red as a tomato and often splotchy. "All right," I say, clearing my throat.

"I'm just going to take your vitals first, okay?" he asks, pulling a cart closer and grabbing a blood pressure cuff. "Hold the handle for me."

"I thought nurses did this," I say, raising a brow as he chuckles.

"Usually, but you're getting the all-star Dr. Masen treatment today."

He winks, and I can't breathe as our eyes lock, and I fall into his beautiful gaze. All I can feel is his hand on mine as he feels my pulse, and it feels like a live wire, sparks of electricity flying between us. Granted, my hands are usually numb and tingly, but this is different—warm and soft.

He wraps the blood pressure cuff around my arm and clips something to my finger on my right hand. He watches the little screen closely, and I don't like his expression.

"How long have you felt short of breath?" he asks, pressing his fingertips to my wrist. "Your heart rate is in the one-twenties and O2 sats are at ninety-four." The BP machine beeps, and he looks up, shaking his head. "One-fifty over ninety. Tell me what you're feeling, sweetheart?" he asks with concern etched across his face.


Thanks to May, Nole, Fran, Brier, and Meg for prereading and Sally for Beta'ing.