When We Fall (Take the Fall, #2)(32)

“Marginally better than the one I had several months ago,” Piper says, and I slice my gaze to her.

“This was when you moved out of your parents’ house against their wishes, correct?”

Piper nods. “Yes.”

Well, that sure as shit would have been nice to know, but when she moved in with my sister, I was still getting my crap together.

“I’ve never been intimate with anyone before, and I’m worried that my nerves are triggering the attacks,” Piper continues, her cheeks flushing. “Jase is very attentive. He’s helped me through both attacks.”

“May I read your file?” Dr. Stevens asks as her dark gaze lands on me.

“Sure.” I hand it to her.

“Piper informed the nurse you had brought it with you. I have to say that I’m impressed that you went to so much trouble.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Dr. Stevens eyes me over the open file. “Not many men do. Or women, for that matter. Regular testing. Very good.” She finishes reading through the paperwork and hands it back to me. “First thing, you need to quit smoking.”

“Done.”

Piper’s eyes widen. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

Dr. Stevens starts talking again. “Second, Piper, you need to do breathing treatments before the two of you engage in sexual activities. I understand that doing so puts a bit of a damper on spontaneity, but until you can get this under control…if you can get this under control, preventative measures must be taken.”

“Not a problem.” I look straight at Piper. “Swear it’s not. I’ll help you in whatever way I can.”

Piper’s look of relief touches a part of my heart that I didn’t know existed anymore.

“He did some research about asthma and helped me with my inhaler both times I had an attack,” Piper says, pride so obvious in her voice that I feel my cheeks heat. She makes me sound so…good.

“Your place of residence—how old is it and is it possible that mold could be a problem?”

“House was built in the early 1900s. Lots of hidden passageways.” I give Piper a meaningful look. “She had her first attack after being in one.”

“Stay out of those,” Dr. Stevens says. “Dust aggravates asthma. Honestly, the entire house could be what’s aggravating your asthma.”

“Does that mean I have to move out?” Piper asks, a frown on her lips.

“No,” I practically shout. Piper and Dr. Stevens both look at me. “What I mean is that we’ll find a way to get out all that dust. I had a portion of the house completely renovated a couple of months back, so maybe she can move in there?”

“You can certainly give it a try, but if things get worse, or if they don’t improve”—Dr. Stevens turns her attention back to Piper—“you’ll need to seriously consider moving out. As your doctor, I recommend it.”

Piper and Dr. Stevens talk more in depth about managing asthma, about breathing treatments and exercise as well as her diet. The more they talk, the more I worry about Piper. I never knew that her asthma is so bad that she has to do breathing treatments twice a month.

Once she’s finished with her appointment, we walk to her car. I have my arm around her waist, holding her snug against me. When we get to her BMW, I’m reluctant to let her go, so I wrap both arms around her.

“That was a lot to take in, wasn’t it?” she asks. “I guess a huge commitment, huh?” The uncertainty in her tone is a straight punch to the gut. She’s scared I’m going to bail on her.

“If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be,” I remind her. “And what would it say about me as a man if I couldn’t handle taking care of my woman?”

An elegant brow arches. “Your woman?”

“Yeah,” I say roughly, and I kiss her lips softly.

“Well, then that makes you my man. Is there anything I can do for you? I feel like this relationship is becoming extremely one-sided.”

“You keep doing you—that’s more than I could ever ask for.”

She shakes her head, a shy smile on her plump lips. “When you say stuff like that, it makes me feel…wanted. I’ve never felt that way before.”

Fuck her parents. Fuck mine, too. Abandonment doesn’t give a damn about your socioeconomic status. “I want you very bad. In fact, how about we go home and do a little breathing treatment? I don’t have to be to work until—”

My phone rings. It’s Emmett’s ring tone. He knew not to call or text me while I was at Piper’s appointment, so it has to be an emergency. Pulling it out of my pocket, I glance at the screen.

Emmett: We are slammed, dude. Need to hire another artist.

Me: Do you need me to come in?

Emmett: No. I want you to keep playing hide the pickle with Piper while customers get pissed off and leave.

Me: Be there in fifteen minutes.

“You need to go, don’t you?” Piper says.

“Emmett will cry if I don’t.”

She laughs. “Can’t have that. I have to pick up my prescription anyway. Dr. Stevens upped the dosage to see if that helps.”

“I can tell Emmett no. Let him sweat it out a bit.” Though he does have a point about hiring another artist. We need someone who can do piercings, too.