I limped into the office.

I was a mass of bruises. Suffering form the night with Dane (I'd finally gotten the hustler to tell me his name). I vowed never to call that weirdo again...and hoped to keep that vow...but who knew? I felt so confused.

Janeanne looked at me like she knew exactly what had happened. Of course there was no way she could, so now I was getting paranoid on top of everything else.

She smiled, "Lewis, where's Clark?"

What did she mean?

"You look like you just crossed the Mississippi, Doc. And you're late for you ten o'clock. You do remember you have a ten o'clock, right?"

I waved her off with an "of course" expression-- damnit! A ten o'clock? I was in no position to examine anyone...I walked into my office, put on my white jacket-- took a quick look in the mirror...

AGHHHH! Who was that in the mirror? Some hungover mess, I thought. It was me.

I went into my adjoining examining room, "Hi-- I'm sorry I'm late, surgery you know..." I stopped in my tracks. It was Tyler O'Brien, the football menace who made a pass at me several weeks ago.

Tyler had recovered masterfully, his orthoscopic had done the trick. He was smiling and thrilled to see me, even though he appeared to have really given his other knee some aggressive workouts-- he was swollen and in a lot of pain, but this kid was like a puppy-- like a child.

He smiled, "Doc, you just get handsomer and handsomer..."

"It's more and more handsome, Tyler."

"Whatever...you still married? Or do I have a chance?"

I took a look at this forward, overbearing little shit. He was a damn mouthful, mouthwatering, young sexy kid badly in need of some of what I'd gotten the other night with that hustler, Dane. Yeah, what would Tyler do if he were in my shoes and Dane was standing over him, naked and angry?

What exit would Tyler try to use before he gave in-- submitted to what I wanted, to what I needed...?

I moved in real close and grabbed him-- hard. He sucked in, almost losing his breath under my gasp.

"Yeah, Tyler? You think you can handle it?"

"I think so, Doc. I want it."

"You got it-- but not just a silly quickie. What are you doing in a couple of weeks? Wait-- don't answer that. Whatever it is, cancel it! If it's a game, cancel it. If it's your birthday, cancel the party. If it's a christening, forget it. Meet me here after work, we'll take a little drive up the coast."

"To where?" he asked. He was already in my command. This was gonna be great.

"Don't worry about where-- don't worry about anything, Tyler."