My boyfriend took me and his childhood sweetheart on a trip.

She got the front seat.

I was stuck in the back with his cousin, a handsome surgeon.

Up front, the two of them were in their own little world, feeding each other cupcakes.

I decided I was done playing nice.

On a bumpy stretch, I pressed my knee firmly into the doctor's thigh.

I didn't expect this cold, reserved man to reach out and grip my leg.

At party that night, I was all dressed up.

My boyfriend was furious. "You're upstaging her. Go change. It's her birthday."

"What if I don't?"

"Then we're done."

Later, I texted his cousin. "Doctor, my migraine is killing me."

His reply was immediate: "Where are you now?"

The moment he found me, I pulled him in for a kiss.

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1

Of course, Sloane Astor slid into the passenger seat. Caleb Thorne’s childhood sweetheart, acting like it was her throne.

I didn’t say a word.

I just turned, my hand reaching for the rear door of the Cadillac Escalade.

I pulled it open. And stopped. I hadn't expected to see him.

I never thought a man like Julian Croft, a top surgeon at Mount Sinai, would join a weekend getaway to the Catskills.

I quickly masked my surprise, offering a cool, polite nod.

Julian Croft. He wore glasses, and the lines of exhaustion were stark on his face. His eyes flickered open to meet mine—a brief, silent acknowledgment—before they slid shut again.

Sloane, already buckling up, shot a smug glance over her shoulder. "Karina, I get carsick, so I'm sitting up front, okay?"

Caleb backed her up instantly. "Sloane gets carsick. Just let it go, Karina; don't make a scene over something so small."

A small laugh escaped my lips. "Alright."

Caleb looked surprised by my easy compliance. But he had no time to comment. Sloane was already feeding him a cupcake from Magnolia Bakery.

"This has too much frosting, Caleb. Can you finish it for me, please?"

Without a flicker of hesitation, Caleb ate the rest of it.

In the rearview mirror, Sloane’s eyes met mine. She stuck out her tongue like a child.

I ignored her. I grabbed a bottle of sparkling water and tried to twist the cap. It wouldn't budge. I tried again. Nothing.

In the front, Sloane was already handing her own bottle to Caleb with a pout. "Caleb, I really can't open it. You know I have no strength in my hands."

Caleb’s gaze softened with affection. He opened it for her effortlessly.

Then they started sharing it, his lips following hers on the rim of the bottle, completely oblivious. Or maybe they just didn't care.

My stomach twisted into a knot.

As I was about to give up on my own water, a man’s hand reached over, taking the bottle from me.

The sleeve of a black blazer slid back, revealing a silver-gray shirt cuff. It fit snugly around a lean wrist.

It was an exquisite hand. The fingers were long and elegant, the knuckles defined, the nails perfectly clean.

As light from the window played over them, his fingertips gleamed like polished silver.

I was still staring when Julian twisted the cap open and handed the bottle back.

Music began to drift through the car, a perfect distraction. I took the bottle quickly. "Thank you," I murmured.

He gave a slight nod, his eyes already closed again. He must have just come from a night shift. I could see the faint bloodshot lines of exhaustion in his eyes.

I sipped my water.

The Escalade moved smoothly onto the highway.

Caleb had planned this trip for Sloane's upcoming birthday.

There were about eight of us in total, spread across three cars. Our destination: a luxury cabin deep in the Catskill Mountains.

We hadn't been driving long before Sloane had draped herself all over Caleb.

The music was too loud to hear their conversation, but their laughter and body language made it obvious how much fun they were having.

I’d fought with Caleb about this, about his inappropriate closeness with Sloane, more than once. And each time, he promised to be more careful, to respect our boundaries.

But the moment Sloane was near, his promises dissolved.

A wave of apathy washed over me. It was all so pointless.

I dropped my head, a bitter smile on my lips, and turned to stare out the window.

The mountain road snaked before us, the rich colors of late autumn blurring past.

The car hit a bump, and the jolt sent me sideways. My bare knee, exposed beneath my skirt, knocked directly against Julian's thigh. The contact was firm. Solid. We were pressed together.

My first instinct was to pull away. But then I saw it—a dark, unmistakable hickey on Sloane's neck.

I didn't have to wonder who it was from.

Rebellion sparked inside me. Hot and sudden. I didn't move. I stayed right where I was.

Just then, Julian’s eyes opened. His gaze found mine.

I forced myself to look forward, pretending I hadn't noticed, pretending I wasn't touching him. But I did it. I pressed my knee just a little harder against his leg.

Only the thin fabric of his trousers separated my skin from his.

Through it, I could feel everything. The solid muscle. The radiating heat. It was like a current arcing between us, a low thrum that lit up every nerve in my body.

My throat felt like sandpaper. I swallowed hard and reached for my water again.

The cool liquid did little to quench the fire inside me, but it brought back a sliver of my composure.

Julian didn’t move his leg. He let me lean into him.

For one breathless second, my heart stopped. Then it began to hammer against my ribs, a wild, frantic rhythm.

The car suddenly swerved.

From the front seat, Sloane shrieked.

"You scared me to death, Caleb!"

She pressed a hand to her chest, her fear melting into flirtatious praise. "Wow, your reflexes are incredible, Caleb. If you hadn't jerked the wheel in time, that rock would have hit us."

Caleb chuckled, preening. "Impressed? My driving skills are top-notch."

Sloane leaned across the console and planted a kiss on his cheek. "You're amazing, Caleb! A kiss as a reward!"

"Don't mess around," Caleb chided, though his tone was anything but serious. He finally remembered I was in the backseat.

He shot her a mock-glare. "Sloane, you're a grown woman. Behave yourself. Karina is right here."

Sloane’s eyes went wide with practiced innocence.

"Karina, Caleb and I grew up together. I see him as my own brother—you don't mind, do you?"

I pulled a cashmere blanket over my lap, my smile as cold as ice. "Oh? Do you kiss your brother like that at home?"

Her face immediately crumpled into a mask of hurt. "Caleb, see? I told you Karina doesn't like me. Maybe I shouldn't go... I don't want to make her unhappy."

Caleb’s brow instantly creased with frustration.

"That's enough, Karina. Can't you be more mature? Sloane is just like this; she's spoiled and playful. Why do you have to take everything so seriously?"

I had no fight left in me.

Be the bigger person. Fine. I could do that.

But we'll see how generous you are when the tables are turned, Caleb.

Under the blanket, hidden from view, I pressed my leg harder against Julian’s.

The car swayed again, and the friction of my knee and calf against his sent another jolt through me.

Suddenly, his hand was on me. Warm and firm, his long fingers wrapped around my thigh.

His palm was a shock of heat on my cool skin. The warmth pulsed from his hand, wave after wave.

In that moment, my senses were on fire. I could feel the faint, textured trace of calluses on his fingertips—the mark of a surgeon’s steady hand.

The subtle rasp of them against my skin was almost too much. I risked a glance at him, just a quick one.

It was enough. He sat ramrod straight, his shirt buttoned to the collar, every inch the picture of control. But his Adam’s apple gave him away, bobbing sharply as he swallowed.

His profile was devastating. Sharp, chiseled, a face that could stop your heart cold.

Julian was nothing like Caleb and his friends.

If not for a distant connection between the Croft and Thorne families, a man like him—reserved, aloof, obsessed with cleanliness—would never be in their orbit.

I'd met him, of course, after I started dating Caleb. But we were just nodding acquaintances.

He was a man of few words who preferred solitude. His private life was a mystery.

He was always the first to leave a party. If he stayed, he’d find a quiet corner, close his eyes, and shut out the noise.

I remembered Caleb joking about him. "My cousin's practically a monk," he’d said. "An ascetic who shuns women. He’s 27, probably never even touched a woman's hand."

"He's been coming around more this year, though. Maybe to three or four out of every ten things we do."

"A few years ago? Forget it. You'd never even see him."

The truth was, I knew of Julian back at Columbia. I'd seen him on campus.

He was the type of guy every girl dreamed of as her first love.

Remote. Untouchable. The moon in the night sky.

We’d never interacted, except for twice. I’d been getting crippling migraines from stress and went to the hospital for a check-up.

By pure chance, I was assigned to him both times.

It was awkward at first, but his professionalism quickly put me at ease.

I’d chided myself later.

He was a neurosurgeon. What hadn't he seen?

A pretty face and a good body meant nothing. To him, I was just another body to be diagnosed.

Still, when his fingers brushed my temple during the exam, I had to squeeze my eyes shut to hide the blush that flooded my cheeks.

As I left his office that day, I could have sworn his ears were flushed a faint pink. Or maybe it was just the heat.

"Caleb, can we stop at the next gas station? I want to buy something from the convenience store."

Sloane’s voice yanked me from my memories. I bit my lip, my leg tensing to pull away.

But Julian’s fingers tightened on my thigh, a silent command.

I lowered my eyes and stayed still.

The car soon pulled over.

Sloane immediately began whining for Caleb to go with her to buy snacks.

Caleb glanced back at me, hesitating. But Julian’s voice cut through the air, low and even. "She's asleep."

The tension left Caleb’s shoulders in a rush.

"Okay. Going with Sloane, Julian. We'll be right back."

Julian just grunted in response.

The doors opened and closed. Their voices faded. Silence settled over the car.

"Karina." Julian’s voice was soft as he pulled the blanket from my legs.

"You're sweating. Aren't you hot?" I ducked my head, unable to meet his eyes.

I fumbled for my water, needing something to do with my hands, but he took it from me.

"Don't drink so much cold water. Have you forgotten my medical advice?"

A sudden surge of boldness made me look up, straight into his eyes.

"Dr. Croft's medical skills don't seem that great."

"Oh?" One of his eyebrows arched. "How so?"

"I followed your medical advice. I took my medicine, I rested... but it still hurts."

His frown deepened. "It still hurts?"

"It hurts right now."

I pressed my lips together, my chin tilted in defiance. "How about I make another appointment for Dr. Croft to give me a follow-up?"

Through the window, I could see Sloane clinging to Caleb’s arm.

They were plastered together, no space between them.

He was pinching her cheeks, ruffling her hair. They looked like the perfect couple.

A hot, nameless anger coiled in my gut, demanding release.

I don’t know what possessed me. I grabbed Julian’s hand. "Or... Dr. Croft could fulfill his duties right now and give me an examination? I'm so stressed, my migraine is about to flare up."

His hand moved toward my temple, but then he pulled back, his fingers closing around the nape of my neck instead.

A gentle tug was all it took. He pulled me toward him. "Karina."

He was looking down at me. I had to crane my neck to meet his intense gaze.

"Don't seduce me here."

"Seduce you?" I held his stare, refusing to back down.

"Dr. Croft, do you have no medical ethics? Are you just going to ignore a patient's discomfort?"

My words were still hanging in the air when he took off his glasses. Then he kissed me.

His taste was unique. A faint bitterness, laced with the sterile, clean scent of disinfectant that seemed to be a part of his very skin. It wrapped around me, pulling me under.

My eyes flew open. I tried to push him away, but his arms were like steel bands.

A soft gasp escaped me, and he used the opening. His tongue slipped past my lips, prying my teeth apart, invading and claiming every inch of my mouth.

He stole the air from my lungs. My head spun, vision blurring at the edges. My legs gave out first, then the rest of my body went boneless, melting against him.

His fingers tightened on my chin, the kiss growing deeper, rougher.

My tongue went numb.

Sometime during the assault, my hands had fisted in his shirt, twisting the crisp fabric into wrinkles.

Our ragged breaths mingled in the small space. The kiss was so punishing, so desperate, that tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

Then, just as suddenly, he stopped.

I tilted my head back, my eyes hazy, my body still thrumming. I looked at him, silently begging for more.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. His thumb brushed the corner of my lips, wiping away the moisture.

"Not so fast, Karina."

"Hm?" I stared, my mind still hazy and slow.

He leaned in again, his lips brushing mine in a soft, lingering kiss that was somehow more devastating than the first.

His forehead came to rest against mine. His voice was a low, husky whisper in my ear.

"Thirty more miles. When we get there, I'll give you what you want."