Egotistical Jerk: A Hero Club Novel

by A. K. MacBride

  "Wow! And you're sure she was grooming him and not simply tasting?"

  The laugh that sounded as if it came straight from the pit of my mom's stomach filtered through the line and settled inside my chest. I realized at that moment just how much I missed my family.

  I didn't do the friends thing—save for Simon—it seemed like a lot of unnecessary effort to me. Girlfriends were too clingy. Too needy. I didn't want to keep explaining to someone why I went to the hospital at 3:30 some mornings or why I wanted to stay way past the end of my shift.

  "Sebastian?" I blinked a few times until my mom's worried face came into focus. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked when I only stared.

  "I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

  I could tell she didn't believe me, but thank heavens, she let it go. "Okay, I won't keep you."

  "Thanks for showing me the sunrise."

  Mom tipped her head, her eyes and her smile saying the words before they left her mouth. "Go get some rest, okay? Love you."

  "Tell dad I said hi. Love you too."

  Long after the screen had gone dead, I was still sitting in the same spot. My mind furiously trying to work out a million different things at once.

  Why did I feel a pang of jealousy whenever I saw Simon and his family?

  Why did being alone suddenly bother me when I'd craved it almost my entire life?

  And finally, why oh why was Mia Phillips so firmly stuck in my thoughts that I couldn't remove her even if I tried?

  Chapter 9

  MIA

  Holding on to the railing, I took a deep, steadying breath. Raw nerves and guilt had the butterflies in my tummy doing air flips. But I promised myself I wasn't going to chicken out… again.

  After I pulled more air to my lungs, I dragged my feet up the steps and then lifted my hand to knock. Before my knuckles could connect with the hard wood, the door flew open. The woman standing before me might as well have reached inside my chest and squeezed her hand around my heart.

  I swear, it flatlined right before it started jumping about at an unnaturally fast pace. How was it even possible to feel physical pain from just looking at someone? But then again, Aunt Vera wasn't just anyone. She was my father's twin.

  The resemblance was so striking, I had to close my eyes for a beat. Slowly counting backward from ten, I tried to center myself, to find a sense of calm amidst the chaos inside me.

  "Mia."

  My name was nothing more than a prayer on her lips.

  With my lids still firmly pressed together, I willed the lump in my throat to go back down. I could do this. I would do this.

  Shame lined my stomach when I thought of all the times I'd avoided her on purpose. Made up stories as to why I couldn't come for dinner. Or pressed the red button whenever I saw her name flashing on my phone's screen. I loved my aunt Vera with everything in me, but most times, being near her was like a form of torture.

  She looked like my dad—well, she would have if her shoulder-length hair was cropped short and her lashes were less feminine. She sounded like him too, especially when she laughed.

  "Come here." The words had barely left her mouth before her arms wrapped around me and tugged me close to her chest. "I'm so happy you're here."

  I couldn't speak, too busy trying to get a grip on the fifty different emotions crawling their way to the surface. Sniffling, I nodded into her chest and hoped she understood.

  Me too.

  I wasn't sure how long the embrace lasted, all I knew was by the time she pulled away and curled her fingers around my shoulders, something inside of me had shifted. A deep sense of belonging had risen above anything else I was feeling.

  "Sorry for just showing up," I finally croaked out.

  Aunt Vera waved a hand through the air, her eyes smiling along with her mouth. "Nonsense. You're always welcome here."

  That little ball of guilt nudged at me again. "I know. I'm sorry it's taken me so long—"

  "No." She cut me off with a sharp shake of her head, the ends of her hair furiously brushing over her shoulders. Linking our arms together, she pulled me inside and closed the door behind us. "No more apologies, okay? You're here now and that's all that matters."

  I trailed behind her as she made her way to her open-plan kitchen. It was all so bright and colorful, and weirdly enough, it didn't clash at all. Everything, from her bright yellow couches topped with lime green throw pillows to the orange art pieces, simply went together. In the kitchen, it wasn't any different. The orange blended into pink, which again, seemed to just work.

  "You still love your coffee so much?"

  Still taking in the walls and the bright picture frames adorning them, I nodded. "I do."

  Aunt Vera busied herself with starting the coffee machine when I slipped into one of the kitchenette chairs. Toying with the edges of the daisy-shaped placemat, I watched her move about.

  I hadn't seen her in almost a year, and once I got over the initial shock of seeing my dad's twin, I regretted it. Aunt Vera was the closest thing I had to a mother. She was also the only family I had left.

  My mom had left this earth before I'd been out of my diapers, and in a very sad twist of fate, Aunt Vera's husband of three months had died only a short time later. She never remarried, swearing she didn't want to love ever again.

  She'd packed up everything and moved to Providence to help my dad raise me. Just like his sister, my dad hadn't wanted anything to do with love after my mom. When I got older and began to understand, I'd told him that I was okay with him dating. That I wanted him to be happy and not lonely.

  He'd always just shrug those big shoulders and say, "How can I be sad or lonely when I have you, Mimi?"

  The strong smell of coffee pulled me from my thoughts in time to see Aunt Vera slip onto the chair beside me. A steaming cup of coffee already sat in the center of the daisy with a big plate of lemon bars in the middle of the table.

  She was looking at me like she was seeing me for the first time. In a way, she probably was.

  "Do you have any idea how much you look like her?" Aunt Vera's voice had a whimsical tone to it.

  "My mom?"

  She nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. I shifted in my seat.

  "I don't have any photos of her anymore. We lost them all when the water pipe burst… right before Dad got sick." I added that last part in a whisper.

  I could still hear my dad's broken sobs when we came home after dinner to find our house flooded. Pictures, documents, and keepsakes were all floating around. My dad had stooped to pick up a photo of him and my mom on their first date and the paper crumbled to nothingness between his fingers.

  What little was left of him broke that day. I was so convinced of it, for years I'd believed that was the reason my dad had gotten sick in the first place. It hadn't been cancer, but rather a broken heart.

  "You know… I think I might have—" Without bothering to finish her thought, Aunt Vera jumped up and rushed down the hall. I could hear drawers being opened and shut, then she was hurrying back to me with an arm full of books.

  Once she settled back into her seat, I noted that they weren't books at all. Photo albums. She scooted closer and flipped to the first page of one of them. A little boy, who couldn't have been older than six, beamed at the camera with a gap in his toothy grin.

  "Dad?"

  Next to me, she nodded furiously. "And don't let that sweet smile fool you, he was a little hellraiser."

  "He was?" I couldn't even hide the surprise in my voice.

  Aunt Vera's laugh was so sudden, instead of filling me with the sadness I thought it would, warmth seeped through me and settled inside my chest. My own smile tugged at my lips while I listened to her recount stories of my dad's shenanigans.

  By the time we closed the fifth album an hour later, my stomach ached in the best way. We laughed so much, tears rolled down our cheeks.

  "Ah," Aunt Vera exclaimed. "This is the one I was looking for."

  She
flipped through the first couple of pages before sliding the album in front of me. I almost swallowed my tongue. If I had bigger hair with a giant polka-dot bow slipped into the side, fewer freckles on my nose, and if my eyes were more round than their almond shape, I might have been looking at a photograph of myself.

  "Wow." The word blew over my lips in a sigh. My fingers immediately came up to toy with the ends of my hair. A fluttering started in the pit of my belly and worked its way up to settle in my heart. Lifting my gaze to my aunt, I asked, "Can I—"

  Before I had time to finish my question, she reached over and placed her hand on top of mine. "Take anything you want."

  I slipped my hand out from under hers and pushed to my feet, launching myself at her a second later. She held me just as tight as she had before, only this time there was no stopping either of our tears.

  A thought slammed into me at the speed of light. I was the only family she had left too, and I abandoned her, left her to deal with her grief on her own. All because I didn't know how to deal with mine.

  I was done hiding, I knew that wasn't the life my dad would've wanted for me.

  He would've wanted me to make friends, to find someone and be happy.

  That was exactly what I was going to do.

  ***

  "Mia! What are you doing here?"

  Mrs. DuBois's face lit up as she pushed herself into a seated position, dragging her fingers through her hair and puffing the ends with her hands. Returning her smile, I held up the container my aunt had given me before I left her place an hour ago.

  "My aunt makes the most amazing lemon bars and not bringing you some would have been a crime."

  That was a half-truth. Instead of going home, I'd walked around and thought of all the things I'd missed out on because of my stubbornness. In the middle of scolding myself, Mrs. DuBois's face had popped into my mind.

  She didn't have anyone. Not that we knew of, anyway. The only person who'd come to visit her in the time I'd been here had been her attorney. That didn't sit well with me. I didn't care if people like Dr. Ryker or Mary thought it was best not to get involved.

  Because I was Mrs. DuBois's friend, but more importantly, she was mine.

  As if fate had willed it that way, I'd noticed it was almost time for visiting hours so I'd rushed over as fast as I could.

  Mrs. DuBois scooted to the left and patted the space beside her. "Are you just going to stand there and brag about those bars, or are you handing them over?"

  Skipping over to her, I grinned widely. Not even thinking twice about it, I hopped onto the bed with her and lifted the lid of the container, setting the lemon scent free. Her bony hand immediately reached inside and retrieved the treat before taking a giant bite out of the corner.

  "Mmm," she mumbled around a full mouth. "So good."

  I gently bumped her shoulder with mine. "Told ya." Jerking my head in the direction of the TV hanging from the ceiling, I asked, "What are we watching?"

  Before she could answer me, the sound of someone clearing their throat had me looking toward the door.

  My insides went cuckoo again, but somehow, I managed to keep my voice steady.

  "Dr. Ryker. What are you doing here?"

  Chapter 10

  SEBASTIAN

  I could ask you the same question.

  The words were right there on the tip of my tongue. That I didn't voice them was nothing short of a miracle.

  "Sebastian!" Cheryl exclaimed happily.

  One side of my mouth tipped up, my eyes quickly flicking to Cheryl before returning to the woman sitting next to her. Thick, fiery flames framed her face and tumbled over her shoulders. Her eyes were big and wide and completely focused on me.

  She was beautiful.

  And that one thought alone complicated the shit out of everything.

  "Don't just stand there," Cheryl's voice sounded. "There's room on the bed with us and there's a big 'ole couch right there." The look she was giving me had me wondering if she knew what was going on in my mind.

  "Actually," Mia said carefully, turning her gaze to the old woman next to her. "I'm going to go." She twisted and gave Cheryl a small hug. "I'll stop by again tomorrow, okay?"

  She slipped off the bed and tugged at the hem of her shirt; righting the garment.

  That concern I'd felt when I'd first found out she'd been visiting Cheryl on her days off nipped at my spine again. And not for the reasons she believed. I'd gone through this countless times before and it never got easier. In my own stupid way, I was trying to spare her the pain of losing a friend.

  During my first year of residency, I'd met a resilient little girl named Belinda. She had just been diagnosed with a debilitating immune disease we didn't know much about. Something like that would have been scary for anyone at any age, but this girl, she was more concerned for the other kids in the ward.

  I'd started spending most of my free time with her; playing games, watching movies, whatever she wanted to do. When I arrived one afternoon to find her bed empty, and the room turned back into an empty sterile space, it broke me.

  It ate away at some part of me that still hadn't recovered.

  "Dr. Ryker." By the time I pulled myself away from that dreadful memory, Mia was slipping past me. A flicker of green caught my eye before she looked away. The sweet smell of citrus tickling my nose for a brief moment. Unable to stop it, my gaze followed her as she made her way down the hallway toward the elevator.

  The only explanation I had for doing what I did next was that I'd completely lost my mind. Shooting an apologetic gaze to Cheryl who was still watching me with that knowing look on her face, I said, "I'll be right back."

  Without giving it a second thought, I pivoted and hurried in the direction Mia had gone.

  "Phillips!"

  At the sound of her name, she stopped walking and slowly spun around. The instant she saw me rushing toward her, she spread her feet and pulled her shoulders back. Arms tucked tightly beneath her breasts, she tilted her chin in that defiant manner and waited.

  The fire I saw flashing in her eyes when I came to a standstill in front of her burned hot and angry.

  "Yes, Dr. Ryker?" her voice was clipped, her irritation with me evident in her ticking jaw.

  Again, my mind conjured up that word I shouldn't be thinking around her: beautiful. She was so damn beautiful it made my chest ache. And that right there pissed me off. No woman, ever, had invaded my mind in such a way.

  "If you're just gonna stand there."

  She let her words hang between us for a beat before she took a step back and dropped her arms to her side. She was in the process of turning around when my arm shot out, my fingers banding around her wrist.

  "I told you not to get involved."

  The words fell from my lips, low and harsh. It wasn't what I'd planned on saying, but for whatever reason, my thoughts left my mouth all jumbled and twisted.

  Of course, she didn't know that. A warning flashed in her eyes. With one hard tug, she pulled her arm from my grip and gave me a look that hit me straight in the balls.

  "Excuse me?" With her hands balled up into tight fists, she surged forward. Tilting her head back, Mia glared at me, nostrils flaring. "When I am not here in an official capacity, you are not my boss. You don't have a say in how I spend my free time."

  She was standing so close, if I bent down slightly, I'd be able to touch my mouth to hers. Shit, I'd never wanted to do anything in my life as much as I wanted to do just that. However, this wasn't the time or place. In fact, I wasn't sure there'd ever be a right time or place.

  Swallowing hard, I dipped my chin to my chest. "She needs a doctor more than she needs a friend."

  She made a noise; an angry, exasperated noise. "Ugh!" Mia's arms flew into the air. "You're so full of shit! What the hell are you doing here?" Those green eyes of hers narrowed dangerously. "It's your day off, too."

  "It's none of—"

  "My business?" she finished for me. "Yeah, right back
at you."

  Grinding my teeth, I gritted out, "You don't understand."

  "No, Dr. Ryker. You're the one who doesn't understand. I'm not you. People matter to me. I can't switch off my emotions with a flick of a wrist."

  "You've got me all wrong."

  "I don't think so," she countered. With her brow arched high, she went on. "Actions speak louder than words."

  Stubborn, infuriating woman! One part of me wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she listened. The other part wanted to steal the fighting words from her tongue. I wanted to kiss her until the only words she knew were yes, more, and please.

  I didn't do any of those things. Instead, I drew in a breath through my nose before releasing it slowly.

  "You can't get involved."

  Even though I'd spoken as calmly as I could, it didn't matter. Fury flashed in those big, green eyes. Mia planted her fists on her hips. Tilting her chin a bit more, she glared at me. Resentment rolling off her body in angry waves.

  The absolute last thing I should have been thinking was how damn sexy she looked when she was furious.

  And yet…

  "Pot meet kettle," she spat, oblivious to the turn my thoughts had taken. "My free time is not yours, Dr. Ryker," she repeated her words from earlier before marching to the elevator.

  Unable to take my eyes off her, I shoved my hands inside the pockets of my jeans. Her fury still evident in the way she was stabbing the button repeatedly. And then, almost as if I'd willed it to happen, she angled her head and looked at me over her shoulder.

  Our eyes locked and I swear, my heart stopped. Her lip disappeared between her teeth at the same time as a crease marred her forehead. I would've given anything to know what was going through her mind right then.

  The doors behind her parted, and just like that the connection between us was severed. If I hadn't been so focused on her, I would've missed the small shake of her head before she ducked into the elevator.

  The moment she disappeared from my view, I released the breath I'd been holding, then dragged my ass back to Cheryl's room. Upon entering, I found her exactly how I left her; big eyes on the door while she nibbled on something.