Reclaiming His Ex

My mom dragged me to the doctor because she suspected my small chest was a sign of stunted growth. The doctor turned out to be my exboyfriend.

He looked at me with cold, distant eyes. "Pull your shirt up to your collarbone.

Unhook your bra." Then, he deliberately mocked me. "They are quite small." I gritted my teeth and threw the blame right back. "If they are small, it is because my exboyfriend didn't work hard enough." The next second, my back hit the examination table.

His voice dropped, thick with danger. "The examination wasn't thorough enough.

Looks like I need to keep working hard." Chapter 1 "Patient number 52, Harlow, please proceed to Consultation Room 2." The automated voice echoed through the waiting area.

I stared at the nameplate on the door, JULIAN, THORACIC SURGERY, and gritted my teeth so hard my jaw ached. Through the frosted glass, I caught a glimpse of his lean silhouette.

The line of his waist, barely hidden beneath that crisp white lab coat, instantly dragged my mind into the gutter.

A month ago, that exact waist was pinning me down to the mattress while he swore it was the last time.

Now, he looked like the ultimate sophisticated jerk. "What are you spacing out for?" My mom slapped me on the back. "Dr. Julian is a toptier specialist.

People fight for his appointments!

I only got this slot because his mother and I are close friends." Before I could even ask how she knew his mother, a cold, clinical voice pierced the air. "Next." I pushed the door open.

The man I hadn't seen in a month was wearing a blue surgical mask, the sleeves of his lab coat rolled up to his forearms. His dark eyes were freezing cold.

He raised a brow. "Here to beg for a second chance?" "Here for an appointment." I kept my chin up, my eyes catching the subtle bob of his Adam's apple. "What's the issue?" Before I could open my mouth, my mom barged into the room. "Julian, it's Rhonda!

You have to take a look at my daughter. Her chest is so flat. Is her growth stunted?" Her loud voice bounced off the clinic walls.

I cringed so hard my toes could dig out a Beverly Hills mansion with a massive heated pool right there in the linoleum floor. "Rhonda." Julian pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Breast size is related to genetics, nutrition..." "Exactly!" My mom nodded vigorously. "Do you think it's because I gave her too much cheap skim milk during puberty?" Julian's pen scratched across the medical chart.

I peeked. He was literally writing that the patient's mother suspects cheap skim milk caused stunted breast development. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

If I was guilty of a crime, the judge should just throw me straight into the state penitentiary.

Not subjected to my own mother dragging me to a doctor because she thought my breasts were too small.

Especially when that doctor was the guy who dumped me a month ago. "I need to perform a physical examination." Julian stood up, flashing my mom a perfect, professional smile. "Family members need to wait outside." I crumpled the appointment slip in my fist, forcing a stiff smile. "Can I request a different doctor?" He didn't even look up.

His tone was pure ice. "Take a right out the door and get back in line." "Oh, don't be ridiculous, the line is miles long." My mom instantly shoved me down onto the examination table. "What's wrong with a male doctor?

Why are you young people so prudish? Doctors don't see gender." I stared at the ceiling, dead inside.

Doctors might not see gender, but what about the exboyfriend who wrecked me in bed? Besides, since when did a top thoracic surgeon handle puberty issues?

Julian reached out and pulled the privacy curtain shut with a sharp clatter. He adjusted his glasses and gestured toward me. "Pull your shirt up.

Unhook your bra." I gripped the hem of my shirt tightly, glaring at him. "You're abusing your power!" He slid both hands into the pockets of his lab coat, his expression a mask of cool indifference. "Miss Harlow," he warned coldly. "First, you booked this appointment.

Second, I am a doctor. Treating patients is my job. And finally, what part of you haven't I already seen?" My jaw ticked. Fine. He played dirty.

I gritted my teeth, took a sharp breath, and unhooked my bra. Squeezing my eyes shut, I yanked my shirt up. His fingers were cool.

The moment they brushed against my bare skin, I jerked, a violent shiver shooting down my spine. "Don't tense up." "Who's tense?" I stammered. "Your heart rate is spiking." A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He kept his head down, conducting the exam with infuriating focus. "Feel anything?" I turned my head away, letting out a sharp scoff. "Nothing!" "Nothing?" Chapter 2 He frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "Nothing means nothing.

Dr. Julian, your technique is terrible. We're already broken up, do you expect me to fake it?" Since I couldn't win physically, I chose to win with my mouth. "Oh?

My technique is terrible?" His thick lashes dipped. His dark eyes locked onto mine through his lenses.

His voice dropped an octave, freezing cold. "Harlow, you need to speak from your conscience." I cursed him in my head. Isn't my conscience exactly what your hand is on right now?

His fingers pressed down harder. "How about now?" "It feels like you're squeezing me..." He looked up, meeting my eyes headon, and let out a sharp sigh. "Any sharp pain?" "No!" "Swelling?" "No!" "Does it itch normally?" "Oh right, the itch isn't here." I gasped. "Julian, are you done grabbing me yet?!" I slammed my palms against the table, shooting up so fast I nearly cracked my forehead against his jaw.

My face was burning. "You know exactly what's wrong with me!" "It seems there are no physical abnormalities. However..." His hands finally released me.

A low, raspy chuckle broke the tense air in the tiny room. "They are quite small." My teeth ground together.

I fired right back. "If they are small, it is because my exboyfriend didn't work hard enough!" A large hand suddenly clamped around my waist.

The force jerked me forward, slamming my chest hard against his solid chest.

The faint, intoxicating scent of cedarwood and clean laundry seeped out from under his lab coat, invading my senses. His breath hit my neck, heavy and ragged.

His voice dipped into a dangerous, dark register. "What? You want me to keep working hard? Is that why you're playing these old tricks again?" A mocking sneer twisted his lips.

He wasn't entirely wrong. The only reason we ever got together was because I stalked him relentlessly until he finally gave in.

Back then, I had accompanied my best friend to the clinic. One look at Julian's impossibly perfect face, and I was a goner. The crisp white lab coat. The goldrimmed glasses.

The broad shoulders and miles of long legs. He practically oozed that untouchable, celibate vibe. I had a massive thing for hands.

Whenever he looked down, typing out medical records with deep focus, his long, knobby fingers mesmerized me.

Every movement felt like a strong static shock, making my lower abdomen tighten uncontrollably. I gripped the doorframe, swallowing hard. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs.

I suddenly understood why people liked falling in love on dangerous rollercoasters. I needed openheart surgery, right then and there.

My best friend got an irregular heartbeat from watching a Magic Mike stripper show, and I forced her to stay in the hospital's premium private ward for a full month.

From that day on, I basically became an unofficial staff member in the thoracic surgery department.

I brought him a Starbucks Caramel Frappuccino in the morning, only for him to call it out for too much sugar.

I delivered highcalorie cheese pizza takeout for lunch, and he criticized the carbs and nutritional imbalance.

I waited outside the hospital at night just to bump into him, and he lectured me about my irregular sleep schedule.

After thirty straight days of me faking low blood sugar just to swoon into his arms, Julian finally cornered me in the stairwell. "Harlow.

What exactly do you want?" "You." I gritted my teeth, going up on my tiptoes to yank his tie. "Is that a yes or a no? Dr. Julian, the second I see you, my heart rate spikes.

What am I supposed to do about that?" Later, when he pinned me against the concrete wall and kissed me raw, I learned that even the most untouchable ice king bites when provoked.

But I soon discovered that this man was as stubborn in bed as a sworn Puritan. We dated for three months before he let me hold his hand. Six months before we unlocked kissing.

Every time I tried to take things further, he would fix those devastatingly gorgeous eyes on me and firmly reject me. "This is moving too fast." It took a grueling sixmonth tugofwar and every seduction tactic in the book before I finally got him into bed.

But this celibate bastard whose shirt collar was always buttoned to the very top was like a tireless beast in bed, wearing me out so much I couldn't get out of bed every time.

Dating was supposed to be sweet. But his job was demanding. He practically lived in the operating room.

Leaving the house at 7 AM and dragging himself back at 8 or 9 PM was his normal routine.

I wanted to jump his bones the second he walked through the door, but he always had medical charts to review, research papers to write, and board exams to prep for.

Even those bottomtier Wall Street interns working around the clock would feel ashamed in front of him. I was young and full of raging hormones. I craved him constantly.

Chapter 3 I couldn't stand that feastorfamine lifestyle. By my birthday, I had been starved of his touch for so long. I swore to myself I was going to jump him.

But right as we walked into the movie theater, his phone rang, and he sprinted back to the hospital. I sat through the movie alone and ate a huge meal alone. My chest felt tight.

I sent him a text, but got no reply.

When I finally showed up at the hospital with takeout for him, he was sitting intimately with another female doctor, deeply engrossed in a medical discussion.

They were looking at each other with undisguised mutual admiration. They looked sickeningly perfect together. In an instant, all the fight drained out of me.

A guy like Julian was great for a fling. But for marriage? We didn't fit.

He was a promising, toptier surgeon, and I was just a broke superficial girl writing thirdrate romance novels. We belonged to two vastly different worlds.

And in that moment, I suddenly didn't even want to sleep with him anymore. So, I broke up with him. He asked why.

I threw out the most egocrushing excuse I could think of. "Your technique is terrible." Then I blocked his number on everything. He never reached out after the breakup.

Anyway, I was the one who dumped him. But now, accidentally booking his appointment made it look like I regretted it and was desperately chasing him again.

I scrambled, reaching behind my back to hook my bra. "You're overthinking it, Dr. Julian.

My mom booked this appointment." I glared back at him. "Besides, I never play with the same man twice." But my fingers fumbled, and the hooks just wouldn't catch.

His tall shadow fell over me. Suddenly, he reached his arms around my waist. His deft fingers easily secured the clasp of my bra in one smooth motion.

The sudden proximity wiped my mind blank. He spoke before I could, his voice icy. "You're welcome.

Practice makes perfect." I used to tease him about those agile hands—how they were just as good at unclasping a bra onehanded as they were at wielding a scalpel.

I gritted my teeth, laying the sarcasm on thick. "Dr.

Julian is so considerate, hooking up his female patients' underwear." He flashed a faint smile, not missing a single beat. "Don't mention it.

It's also my first time encountering a female patient seeking my medical expertise because she's flatchested." I bit the inside of my cheek.

While I was still racking my brain for a comeback, my mom knocked and barged back in. She took one look at my flushed face and quickly turned to Julian. "Dr.

Julian, is there something wrong with my daughter?" Julian stepped back to a professional distance. "Don't worry, Rhonda.

There are no physical abnormalities." My mom let out a massive sigh of relief. "Thank God, thank God..." Then, her face crumpled in defeat. "But her sister and I both have to buy Dcups at Victoria's Secret.

How is it that she can't even fill out a basic sports bra?" I silently buried my face in my hands. "Perhaps—" He pushed up his glasses, fighting back a smirk. "She takes after her father." The room fell into a dead silence.

My mom still refused to give up. "Is there really no hope for my daughter's chest?" "I suggest taking more estrogenrich supplements." Julian's gaze swept over me, leaving a burning trail before he offered a deeply suggestive smile. "Of course, assisted massages can also be effective.

Some women may experience secondary development during lactation." My mom slapped her thigh, a sudden look of enlightenment crossing her face. "I get it!

You're saying she needs to find a man." Her eyes suddenly lit up, locking onto him. "Julian, your mom mentioned you just went through a breakup.

What do you think of my daughter?" My brain practically shortcircuited.

I grabbed my mom's arm, dropping my voice into a desperate hiss. "Mom, stop trying to play matchmaker..." My mom stomped her foot impatiently. "I saw Dr.

Julian's profile on the wall outside! Ivy League medical school graduate, top attending surgeon, young and wealthy. "Most importantly, he's gorgeous!

He's perfect for our family's gene pool! If I were twenty years younger, I would have pounced on him myself." Chapter 4 "He just went through a breakup!

He's in the rebound phase and needs comfort the most. You need to slide right in!" "Say, Dr. Julian, how about we exchange numbers and add each other on iMessage?

That way, if Harlow feels unwell, she can text you anytime?" Julian raised his eyes to look at me. I blinked furiously, giving him massive hints.

Mostly because his number was still sitting in my blocked contacts. "Sure." He pulled out his phone, blatantly ignoring my frantic eye contact, and shoved the screen right in front of my face. "I'll have Miss Harlow personally type her number into my phone." I braced myself, pulling up my phone to type in the number.

A sharp beep sounded. Julian's contact interface popped up on the screen.

Right under the text message bar, a red exclamation mark and a line of small text glared back at me: [Message failed to send.

You have blocked this contact.] "I still haven't received the text," he reminded me flatly. I ground my teeth and sneakily unblocked him. "Done." He smiled and nodded. "Good.

I'll send the medical advice to Miss Harlow." I silently rolled my eyes. Bullshit. What kind of medical advice is there for having small breasts?

A few minutes later, Julian sent an iMessage: [PDF Document: The Comprehensive Guide to Breast Massage Techniques.] [Proper massage can promote secondary development and prevent breast hyperplasia.] I forced a smile through gritted teeth. "Dr.

Julian is truly a healer with a heart of gold." [Julian: Free medical guidance can be provided upon request.] "Honey, listen to your mother. You need to lock Dr.

Julian down!" On the drive home, my mom gripped my wrist like a starving woman who had just found a golden ticket. "His dad is a college professor, and his mom is the heart and soul of our community Zumba club!" "Mom, we belong to two different worlds..." I clung to the car door, desperately fighting back. "How do you know you're incompatible if you haven't even tried?" My mom was acting like she had been brainwashed by Julian.

She looked ready to kidnap the man and throw him directly into my bed.

The next day, I was shoving snacks into my mouth and bingewatching a show when she suddenly materialized. "Go change your clothes.

Diane is coming over in a bit." I clutched my snacks and prepared to bolt. "Then I'll go hide in my room and watch." She pinned me down with one hand. "You brat.

We have guests coming over. It's incredibly rude to hide!" I continued crunching loudly on my potato chips. "She's your friend.

I don't even know her." She grabbed me by the collar. "But you know her son—" Right on cue, the doorbell rang. My mom sprinted to the front door.

The two besties started gossiping the second they saw each other. "Oh my gosh, you didn't have to bring so much stuff!" "I heard Harlow was home, so I brought some snacks." "Oh wow, these are all Harlow's favorites!" "I know, right!

Julian picked them all out himself. Isn't that just destiny?" Until a very familiar voice drifted in. "Hello, Rhonda. We meet again." My hand jerked.

I whipped my head up, a halfeaten potato chip still dangling from my lips. Julian stood in the entryway right behind his mother.

He was dressed in a tailored charcoalgray suit, his tie knotted with razorsharp precision. He was holding multiple luxury gift bags in his hands.

He looked exactly like a man showing up to propose. "Oh, this must be Harlow!

She's gorgeous!" I forced an awkward greeting. "Hi, Diane." My mom elbowed my ribs. "Go pour the guests some tea." The two mothers quickly grabbed their heavily sugared coffees and leaned back comfortably into the widest leather sofa in the living room.

Julian and I stood off to the side, maintaining a rigid, awkward silence. "Oh, my Harlow just plays around all day. Nothing like your Julian.

He is an Ivy League medical school graduate, a top attending surgeon, and young and wealthy. "I heard he even skipped grades in school. Tall, handsome...

Diane, you are so lucky." "Oh, you're the lucky one! You have such a sweet, caring daughter. My son is just like his father—a total brick wall.

All he knows is work." Chapter 5 The two mothers kicked off their obligatory round of mutual flattery. Julian and I stayed as quiet as mice.

Seeing this, they chimed in. "Oh, you young people have so much to talk about. Mingle!" "My Julian is just too serious. He doesn't even know how to chase girls." "Don't be so stiff.

You'll get familiar with each other soon enough." Familiar? We were way past familiar. We had literally kissed our lips raw... I silently played dead.

Julian quietly peeled an apple. I stared at his long, slender fingers wielding the paring knife, carving the apple like a piece of art.

The two moms were gossiping heatedly, and somehow the topic shifted right back to us. "I heard Harlow is still single?" "Yes, she was seeing someone recently, but they broke up before I even got to meet the guy." "Mine is the same.

His personality is too dull. He got dumped and acted like nothing happened." "Harlow's scumbag ex was even worse!

I heard he was flirting with his female colleagues at the hospital." I discreetly tugged on my mom's sleeve. Mom, please shut up...

But there was no stopping her. "I heard he was a doctor too, right? Which hospital? Maybe Julian knows him?" I ducked my head and chugged my water. Julian's hand paused.

The long ribbon of apple peel snapped and dropped onto the table.

He suddenly looked up, his gaze piercing right through his lenses with cold interrogation. "Is that so?" My mom scoffed indignantly. "Yeah!

And from what Harlow told me, that scumbag couldn't even perform in the bedroom, right?" I choked. Water sprayed everywhere. I clutched my chest, hacking until my lungs burned.

Julian reached over and patted my back. "Oh, look how considerate Julian is." "Look at these two kids.

The more I look at them, the more perfect they seem together." My mom grabbed Diane's arm and bolted. "Right, isn't it time for the Zumba club downstairs?" "Yes, yes, let's go!" The two of them slipped out the door in a flash.

I stood up and marched toward my bedroom. Julian followed right behind me. "Dr. Julian, following a woman into her bedroom in broad daylight?

Where are your medical ethics?" I tried to slam the door shut.

He planted his elbow against the doorframe, easily blocking it. "My bedroom bed still has someone's favorite pink Hello Kitty velvet sheets." "Then change them!" I glared at him. "Change them to your favorite blue sterile surgical drapes!" A dress shoe suddenly wedged into the door gap.

Taking advantage of his long legs, he forced his way in. "Harlow, when did I ever flirt with a female colleague?" "My mom wasn't talking about you. Don't flatter yourself, Dr.

Julian." "Then why did we break up?" I kept my chin up, refusing to back down. "Your technique was terrible. I got bored of sleeping with you." He suddenly leaned in.

His nose almost brushed my forehead. "My technique was terrible? Then why did we have to change the bedsheets every single time?" My jaw dropped. My face burned hot.

He stepped sideways into the room. I lifted my leg to kick him. Suddenly, a sharp pop rang out from my calf. "Ahhh!" I let out a pathetic wail and collapsed straight into his chest.

The cramp hurt so much I almost went straight to meet God himself.

His quick reflexes caught me instantly. "What's wrong?" "My... my leg is cramping..." I whimpered, the pain blinding me. "It hurts so much..." My arrogant attitude instantly evaporated. "Don't move.

Relax." He scooped me up bridal style and dropped me onto the mattress. "Where does it hurt?" "Hiss... Thigh...

My thigh." His fingertips pressed into the muscle right above my knee. "Here?" I whined in pain. "Higher..." His fingers slid up. "Here?" I gripped the pillow, grinding my teeth. "Julian, don't use this as an excuse to..." A faint, imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "It's likely a passive muscle spasm caused by a sudden stretch." His voice dropped into that clinical, authoritative tone. "Relax your leg." His hands began to knead the muscle gently.

Chapter 6 Gradually, that tight, burning ache actually vanished. I had to admit. His hands were pure magic.

His fingertips brushed lightly against the small strawberry pattern on my pajama shorts. "Better?" I shifted my leg to test it. "Yeah.

The pain is gone." The cramp had hit my inner thigh. Given where his hand still rested, our position was dangerously intimate.

I nudged his side with my toes. "You can stop rubbing now." But he took the opportunity to wrap his large hand right around my ankle.

His palm was radiating heat against my skin. "Leaving you on your birthday was my fault, but the patient had a penetrating cardiac injury..." "Who wants to hear a surgical report!" I kicked him lightly in the chest. "All you doctors care about are your patients anyway!" My anger sailed right over his head.

Saving lives was his job; in the face of death, everything else had to step aside. I knew that.

But anyone would be pissed if their boyfriend ditched them on their birthday, only for them to turn around and see him laughing and flirting with another woman.

And he didn't even know how to coax me!

I turned my head away, deliberately ignoring him. "Harlow." He suddenly looked up. "On the twentyfirst day after you blocked me, a car crash victim came into the ER with your exact name.

That day... I was terrified." My blood ran cold. "I searched for you like a madman for four hours that day.

Finally, I found out you were out clubbing at a nightclub with your friends." His thick lashes dipped. He looked like a massive, injured golden retriever. "Well, I...

I..." I didn't know what to say. Just like that, all my righteous anger dissolved into thin air. My brain shortcircuited. The temperature in the bedroom suddenly skyrocketed.

He reached up and yanked his tie loose. Then, his fingers flicked open the top three buttons of his dress shirt. I glanced up, and my eyes slammed right into his halfopen collar.

The sharp, shadowed lines of his collarbones were fully exposed. He leaned in, his solid weight pressing over me.

The corner of his lips brushed the very tip of my ear. "Baby, stop being mad at me, okay?" His breath was scalding hot. A tingling heat rushed straight down the back of my neck.

Looking at that flawless face... I folded completely. I forgave him, uselessly.

He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping into a dark, seductive drawl. "Baby, do you want a kiss?" The bastard was seducing me again. Physical attraction was a fatal weakness.

I had been starved of his touch for so long. I wanted to push him down into the mattress right then and there. If he was offering, I was taking it!

Downstairs, the muffled, deafening bass of a heavy metal rock song from a neighbor's party drifted into the room. It felt like we were having an illicit affair.

The loud music mashed perfectly with the wet, desperate sounds of our mouths colliding. The thrill of it was intoxicating.

We kissed like the world was ending. "Have you been practicing the medical advice I sent you?" "Not yet..." His long fingers began to wander dangerously. "As your attending physician, I will personally guide you." Diane's words suddenly echoed in my head—she said he was too serious.

I cursed him internally. What kind of serious man lets his hands roam like this while kissing? A total beast in a suit!!!

Right when we were tangled up, practically inhaling each other, my phone aggressively vibrated against the mattress.

I hit answer, and my mom's frantic voice tore through the speaker. "Harlow, your grandmother just collapsed downstairs!" Every dirty thought vanished.

Julian and I bolted downstairs. My mom was pacing frantically, clutching a small bottle of nitroglycerin in her shaking hands.

Julian instantly snapped back into his professional surgeon mode. "Did you call 911?" "I did!

They're on their way!" He pressed two fingers against my grandmother's wrist. "Acute myocardial infarction. Do not move her.

Let the patient lie flat and wait for the paramedics." His other hand swiftly unbuttoned her collar to open her airway.

He immediately dropped to his knees and began chest compressions on the spot. The ambulance arrived with sirens blaring. We all followed them to the hospital.

Time dragged on agonizingly in the waiting room. Finally, the heavy doors of the emergency room pushed open. "Thanks to Dr. Julian's timely intervention, she is out of danger.

After a few days of recovery, she will need a coronary artery bypass. Dr. Julian will be the lead surgeon." The crushing weight lifted off everyone's shoulders.

Everything was fine until another doctor walked by, looked at Julian, and smirked. "Well, Dr.

Julian, quite the bold fashion statement today." Chapter 7 Only then did everyone's attention shift to us. Julian's dress shirt was halfway unbuttoned.

A vivid hickey stood out starkly against his Adam's apple. My clothes were a rumpled mess.

In our rush out the door, we had even mixed up our footwear—we were each wearing one of the other's slippers. Both of us were sporting swollen, bruised lips.

My mom finally connected the dots. "You two! Were you making out in the bedroom?" Dead silence filled the air. Julian awkwardly started buttoning his shirt.

I cleared my throat and spun a quick lie. "We... well, we were just downstairs trying out those insanely spicy Mexican party tortilla chips." The entire room stared at us, their expressions dripping with heavy skepticism