Medical Romance July 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne Marshall

that still didn’t make it easier. “Hi, Nick. I guess you’ve been watching the gossip blogs.”

      “No, television, actually. And there you were with my sister in New York. Together. Holding hands, and then more... So let me ask again, what the hairy hell, Liam?”

      “I sprained my ankle.” Liam had expected a call, but for some reason he hadn’t expected anger. Even in the rare instances that he and Nick had disagreed, it had only ever gotten physical once. And that time? His temper had started it, over nothing of consequence, and it had ended after they’d exchanged punches.

      He’d always skipped this part during his Interlude with Grace fantasies. Consequences were rarely fantasy material, so he’d cut off anytime his imaginings had strayed in that direction.

      “And?” Nick said.

      “And I went to Grace to get help to finish my press tour and go to the premieres, she went with me to the East Coast premieres because having a date helps keep me from doing as much walking as I do when I’m alone. Right now, I’m sitting with my foot elevated and a heating thing on it. I have physical therapy at the clinic starting in a couple days. After I’ve had a mandatory rest on it.”

      “That doesn’t explain the shots of her on your lap in the back of a limo, man.”

      No, it didn’t.

      That he couldn’t explain. He’d done precisely what he’d sworn he’d never do—he’d crossed lines with Grace. “That was bad judgment. A mistake.”

      “You could have found another date. You could have found twenty dates to take with you and keep you from walking around too much.”

      He gripped the phone and switched to the other ear, this one starting to hurt from how hard he’d been smashing it with the earpiece.

      One mistake in fifteen years wasn’t so much.

      Especially considering that he had turned her down in that trench coat, not that he had ever told Nick that. And he wouldn’t tell him now. Nick didn’t know about it and Grace deserved more. “It’s complicated, but it’s fine. Everything’s fine now. It was a kiss, we didn’t do anything else.”

      “Then why isn’t she responding to my texts or answering my calls?”

      “I don’t know. Because you’re acting like a possessive older brother?” The words came out before he could stop them and Liam suppressed a sigh, trying again. “She’s seen the interviews I did this morning, so she’s probably not answering because she didn’t want to talk about it.”

      “Why not? What else did you do?”

      “Dude! Do you really think I’d ever set out to hurt her?”

      He heard Nick sigh and after a moment he said in a quieter tone, “You’re my best friend so don’t take this the wrong way, but Grace is not a player. She’s a good girl. She went through a bad-boy phase and she couldn’t handle it. I’m not sure how she grew up around us and remained an innocent little angel, but she did. She can’t handle you.”

      Nick saw what he wanted to see, but there was a naughty side to Grace that Liam would never expose. A side that family should never see. But other than that, she pretty much fit the word Nick had selected. “I didn’t molest her.”

      “You don’t have to. All you have to do is be yourself. She’s been more than half in love with you since she was twelve years old.”

      “She had a crush.”

      “No. She had...she had feelings for you. That’s why when she stopped talking about you I stopped inviting her out with us. You still come up in conversations, but she shut down after you left. For a long time. I don’t know what she feels now, I just know that you’re a weak spot for her. You might not mean to make women fall at your feet, but it could be messy with Grace. Even if you don’t mean to hurt her...”

      This understanding and caring older brother thing chafed his already raw conscience, and he couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “Are you telling me to stay away from her?”

      “Do I have to?”

      “No. I’m seeing her for my physical therapy, but we’re not traveling together anymore. They’ve got me scheduled for, like...ten visits. Five days a week for two weeks, weekends off. And it will be in a clinical setting. She’s good at what she does, and she understands what’s going on. She’s the one who was taping my ankle and keeping me upright this weekend.” He could probably find all that with a different physical therapist, and that’s where his conscience was catching. The secret was out, so any decent physical therapist could see him in the clinic for the next two weeks. There were probably even other PTs at the clinic he could see instead.

      But he didn’t want to go to them. And that he couldn’t defend, so when Nick started cautioning him again, Liam cut in. “I know you’re protective, but you don’t have to protect her from me. I love your family, Nick. I’ve got to go, but give her some space. She’ll call you back when she wants to talk.”

      He hung up before he started shouting.

      Because, yes, he’d screwed up, and he kept screwing up when it came to Grace.

      When she’d called earlier with that interview playing in the background, he’d been hoping she’d walk out of the room, or that someone would change the channel. It had been an example of what not to do: go to an interview without knowing what you were going to say about everything. He hadn’t known what to say about Grace, so he’d stuck with the physical therapist story they’d sold to his producers. It was easy. It flowed off the tongue. He’d had to force the levity there at the end, and the laugh had rung false to his ears. But, then, he knew his fake laughs from his real ones. He’d gotten good enough at faking them that most other people didn’t. Grace hadn’t spent enough time with him in the past few years to even have a chance of recognizing them.

      To her ears, that all probably sounded legit.

      Everything with her had somehow spiraled out of control. That dress had made him stupid. Dinner. The conversation he should have never started. A smarter man would have just left that subject alone rather than pick at it, thinking he could fix it.

      He dropped the phone onto the table beside him before he gave in to the urge to throw it.

      He was supposed to sit still for three whole days. All he wanted to do was run. Run from all this, find a peaceful beach and let his feet pound wet sand.

      And it was the first time he’d ever wanted to run from any of the Watsons.

      When he’d first known them and he’d run, it had been toward their house. The safe place. The place with parents who’d made sure he’d done his homework, given him a standing invite to dinner, and had always picked up a third one of anything they’d bought for their own two kids.

      Even when she’d shown up at his door in her black underwear, he hadn’t wanted to run from her. Every step away had been sluggish and hard.

      He didn’t want to feel that again. He just didn’t know how to fix things with her. It could be that they could never be friends. That there was too much there for them to resist. Too much pull. Too much need—to laugh, to kiss, to talk.

      They might never be able to be friends, and if he kept trying, the one friendship he could hold on to would sour.

      Because Nick was right. Even if he didn’t mean to, he would hurt Grace in the long run. She was innocent. She was good and loyal. She had a shining example of a long, happy marriage to aspire to.

      And the look in her eyes when she’d talked about the bandage exchange with little Brody. Grace was mother material. Grace was built for marriage and the fairy tale. While he was doomed to be surrounded by addicts and to watch them fall off, one by one, she had white picket fences and playdates in her future. He was the product of something twisted and ugly. He knew enough about the way people passed their sickness on to their families, their children...and