"Dr. Deen"
Dave slowly pulled away from her clingy arms, his gaze locked onto Lizzy, whose steps falter as she took in the scene before her. Her lips part slightly, but no words came. The sight of Dave holding another woman stilled her in place, forcing her to witness the painful confirmation of what she had suspected.
"I'm sorry," Lizzy's voice broke the silence, tinged with guilt. She inhaled sharply, willing herself to meet Dave's gaze. "It was wrong of me to use you to gain his attention."
Dave said nothing, only watched as she fidget with her fingers, her body tensed with regret.
"I just wanted to hurt him," she admitted , her voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted him to see that I could find someone better than him… that he wasn't irreplaceable. But it was stupid, and I'm sorry." She shook her head, exhaling heavily before turning on her heels, her heart a storm of emotions.
For the past thirty minutes, she had followed Dave's car, curiosity and something unspoken driving her actions. Now, as she stood there, watching him with another woman, she wasn't sure how to feel. Was it pain stabbing at her chest? Or relief that he seem to have moved on? One thing was certain, she felt lighter for having admitted her wrongdoing.
Dave finally break his silence. "I didn't take it personally. It's fine." His voice was calm, even. "But if you still love him, talk to him. He still loves you."
His words settled something inside her, dissolving the guilt that had clung to her like a second skin.
"Thanks." She mustered a small smile, then hesitated before adding, "She's the mad woman you met, isn't she?" Her curiosity got the better of her.
Dave stiffened slightly, his fingers flexing at his sides.
Lizzy chuckled softly, watching him carefully. "You didn't notice, but the whole time you were talking about her," she pointed out. "You kept ranting about how annoying she is, how she drives you crazy… but I could tell. You have a soft spot for her."
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
She tilted her head, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Here's the truth, Dr. Deen. You love her."
Dave's breath hitched.
"You came all the way to pick her up when you were called," Lizzy continued , taking a step back as if giving him space to process her words. "You paid for the damages she caused. And despite your phobia, you still touched her." She folded her arms, letting a cool gust of wind bite at her skin. "Sometimes, love starts from hate."
She didn't wait for a response, simply offering him a parting smile before turning away, letting the cold night air wrapped around her like a quiet farewell.
Behind her, June's voice suddenly cut through the night.
"Mad man."
Dave's gaze snapped toward her. She was standing there, arms loosely wrapped around herself, watching him with those unreadable eyes of hers. The moment their eyes meet, something shifts. A warmth, unexpected but unmistakable, sparks through him.
Without a word, he moved toward her.
In minutes, she was on his back, her weight pressing into him as he carried her away, leaving the night and its tangled emotions behind.
…
June groaned as she shifted under the covers, the morning light stabbing at her closed eyelids like tiny needles. The heat was relentless, the sun showing no mercy, its rays piercing through the curtains as if determined to make her suffer. Her body felt heavy, her limbs sluggish, and worst of all, her head pounded like a drum, threatening to explode with every small movement.
Dragging herself up, she barely made it out of bed before stumbling, her legs tangling in the sheets. A low curse slipped from her lips as she pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging them in a desperate attempt to ease the throbbing pain. But nothing seemed to help.
"Good, you're finally up."
June blinked blearily as Dora appeared in the doorway, arms crossed.
"Here." Dora shoved a glass of lemon water into her hands. "This should help with your hangover." Her voice was laced with irritation, but there was also a hint of concern.
June took the glass hesitantly, sniffing at it before taking a slow sip. The sour taste made her scrunch her nose, but the coolness was refreshing against her dry throat. Dora, however, wasn't done.
"Do me a favor," she continued, striding toward the kitchen. "Next time you decide to go on one of your so-called fun trips, include us instead of making us lose our minds worrying about where the hell you are."
June winced. "I wasn't lost," she muttered, though she wasn't entirely sure that was true.
Dora didn't respond, her focus now on chopping carrots with sharp, precise movements that looked a little too aggressive for comfort.
June took another gulp of the lemon water before hesitating. Something was nagging at her, a hole in her memory that she couldn't quite fill. Her brows furrowed as she struggled to piece together the events of last night.
"How did I get home?" she finally asked, setting the now half-empty glass on the table.
Dora didn't even glance at her, still focused on the vegetables in front of her. "Ask yourself that."
June rubbed at her forehead, trying to push past the fog in her mind. Then, like a ghost of a memory, she felt it—cold fingers trailing down her back, grazing her skin in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. The sensation felt so vivid, so real, as if it had only happened moments ago. Her breath hitched.
"Hell no," she gasped, her hands flying to her chest in horror.
A fresh wave of panic crashed over her. Did that weird man do something to me?
"Poor, innocent me," she wailed, burying her face in her hands. "What did he do to me?!"
"The real question should be—what did you do to him?"
June's head snapped up at the sound of Jane's voice. She stood in the doorway, arms folded, an amused smirk playing on her lips.
June immediately bolted to her feet. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded. "I'm sure he must have taken advantage of me! Who in their right mind would let go of a drunk beauty like me?"
Jane scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Right. Of course, it's always about you." She pulled out her phone, tapping the screen before holding it up. "Here, Miss Drunk Beauty. Take a look at just how 'badly' you were taken advantage of."
June grabbed the phone, her eyes widening in horror as the video played.
It wasn't him. It was her.
Her hands were the first to roam his body. Her lips had made the first move. With every attempt he made to pull away, she was the one clinging onto him, compelling him to stay put. And despite everything, he was the one who had finally broken free.
June's mouth went dry. Oh, no.
She slowly ran a finger across her lips, recalling the tingling sensation from last night. That brief moment of contact, the warmth of his lips—
No. No, no, no! She shook her head violently, snapping herself out of it.
"I-I was drunk," she stammered. "There's no way I would've kissed a madman like him if I was sober."
Jane smirked. "Right. And if that makes you feel better, keep telling yourself that."
Dora, still stirring her pot in the kitchen, finally turned to chime in. "Honestly, I just pity the guy. If he'd known what kind of trouble he was inviting, he should have left you at that bar instead of bringing you home. Or, you know, staying half the night to take care of you."
June's heart skipped a beat.
Wait—what?
"He stayed?" Her voice cracked as she turned sharply toward Dora. "Why? How? And how did he even know where I live?"
Her mind raced through possibilities until it clicked.
Oh.
Her lips parted in realization.
Of course. He must have found her address on her phone. After all, she had cleverly set her lock screen wallpaper with a message:
"To the good Samaritan taking me home, my address is…"
Her fingers twitched. Damn, I really am a genius.
Still, something didn't sit right. Why had he taken care of her? They weren't friends. They weren't even remotely civil to each other. So what had compelled him to stay?
Whatever it was, she didn't care. She was home, safe, and she intended to have nothing more to do with that man.
But Jane wasn't done with her.
"And now the video is a wild hit," she added, shaking her head in exasperation. "The fans are losing their minds over this."
June groaned, running a hand down her face. "Another one?"
She hadn't even managed to deal with the last leaked video, and now this? What was it with people recording her at the worst possible moments?
"But how the hell did it get out?" she snapped, grabbing Jane's phone again. She replayed the video, analyzing the angle. It was clearly taken by someone in the crowd. No surprise there—college students were always eager to capture scandalous moments.
"Everyone thinks he's your boyfriend," Jane added casually.
June froze.
"Hold up—what?"
Slowly, a wicked grin crept onto her lips. Her fingers tapped against each other, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes.
Both Jane and Dora let out matching sighs, immediately recognizing the look on her face.
"Don't you dare," Dora warned, jabbing a wooden spoon in her direction.
June only grinned wider.
"But think about it! I was already planning on faking a boyfriend, and now the public is handing me one on a silver platter!"
Jane snorted. "Yeah, except you hate each other. How exactly do you plan to convince him?"
June's excitement wavered for a second. Jane had a point. Since the very first day they met, she and Dr. Deen had done nothing but get under each other's skin.
But then, an idea struck.
"I'm his patient," she said smugly, pushing to her feet. "So he has no choice but to see me."
With that, she turned on her heel and marched toward her room.
Jane groaned, rubbing her temples. "I'll follow her," she muttered to Dora. "Who knows what insane plan she's cooking up now?"
Dora sighed, turning back to her pot. "A little peace and quiet was too much to ask for, wasn't it?"
…
"Wow, good for you."
Dave clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin. The whispers, the taunts, the knowing looks, he was sick of them. Ever since he walked into the hospital that morning, he had been ambushed at every corner, with nurses giggling behind their hands and staff members throwing teasing glances his way.
And then, of course, there was James.
Dave's so-called friend had been shadowing him all morning, shoving his phone in his face every five minutes to replay that damn video.
"You went on a date with Violet and ended up with her instead," James cackled, slapping a hand onto Dave's shoulder, which he promptly shrugged off. "Man, I thought you said she was trouble and you wanted nothing to do with her?" He smirked. "So why were you kissing her?"
Dave exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his temples. "I was just helping her," he muttered, exhausted from repeating the same line.
"Right, helping her," James drawled, leaning against the desk with a smug expression. "Man, you really are a good helper."
Dave shot him a glare, but James was undeterred. He had barely had a moment of peace all morning—his mother had even called at the crack of dawn, demanding to know who the girl in the video was and how soon she could expect to meet her future daughter-in-law.
"Hello."
The voice was smooth, sultry, and laced with mischief.
Dave's head snapped up.
The first thing he noticed was her eyes, dark and smoky, framed by long lashes that made them all the more captivating. Then came her lips, curved into an angelic smile, revealing just a hint of pearly white teeth.
His posture immediately straightened, his hand instinctively moving to adjust his glasses.
James, however, had no such restraint.
"Hello, dear sister-in-law!" James greeted enthusiastically, stepping forward and offering his hand to June, who continued smiling sweetly at Dave.
Dave shot him a murderous glare, but James paid him no mind.
"I saw the video. Good job," James said with a wink. Then, as if struck by divine intervention, his eyes drifted to the woman standing beside June.
And that was the end of James.
His breath hitched. His pupils dilated. His entire body locked up as he beheld her, Jane, radiant in her simplicity, looking utterly unimpressed with him.
"I've found my wife," James declared dramatically.
Before Jane could react, he had already latched onto her hand, gripping it like she was a lifeline.
"Hi, my name is Doctor. I mean, uh, I'm a doctor, and my name is James," he blurted, tripping over his own words. He coughed, straightened his posture, and tried again. "I mean, sorry, let me start over. I'm Dr. James, and will you be my wife?"
Jane yanked her hand back, eyes narrowed. "Stay away from me."
James blinked, then grinned. "Wow. What a beautiful name."
June snorted.
Even Dave couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at his lips.
James, however, remained undeterred. Running a hand through his hair, he positioned himself in what he clearly believed was his most charming stance.
"Okay, okay, let's start over," he said, undeterred by Jane's unamused stare. He cleared his throat. "Hi, I'm James. Will you be my—"
His sentence was cut off by Jane smacking his hand away.
"June," Jane called, desperate to get away from James' relentless advances.
But just as she turned, James seized her wrist.
"Let's give them some privacy," he said smoothly, dragging Jane toward the hallway. "In the meantime, let's discuss our future."
"They're gone," June announced, turning her full attention back to Dave.
Dave sighed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
June took another step forward, her gaze locked onto him. "I'm here to see you, of course. You're my therapist, after all."
Dave's brow twitched. "I'm not a therapist. I'm a psychiatrist."
She waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, yes. Psychiatrist, therapist, same thing, isn't it?"
"No, it's not.."
June closed the remaining distance between them, effectively cutting off his words.
Dave inhaled sharply.
She was close. Too close.
Her perfume wrapped around him, something soft yet intoxicatingly sweet. His fingers tensed against the armrest of his chair, resisting the urge to move. He could feel the warmth radiating off her skin, see the teasing glint in her eyes, the way her lips parted just slightly
Damn it.
He could still feel last night. The sensation of her lips, the way her fingers had traced along his jaw
Get it together, Deen.
"Dr. Deen," she murmured.
His heartbeat stuttered.
"I came here for a reason," she continued, her voice dipping into something dangerously soft. "Last night left my heart restless."
Dave swallowed.
He wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say next—maybe a confession, maybe an admission that she, too, had been haunted by the memory of their kiss.
His breath hitched as he waited.
"After thinking long and hard about it," she whispered, tilting her head slightly, "I've come to realize how important you are to me."
His fingers dug into the chair.
"So…" Her lips curled into a coy smile.
Dave braced himself.
"Will you be my fake boyfriend?"
The world came crashing down around him.
Dave shut his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose, as if that would somehow suppress the frustration clawing up his throat.
"You?!"
June beamed, completely unfazed. "I knew you'd understand!"