“Dylan, trust me…you need to move past it. I get that she hurt you deeply but you can’t make people suffer for wanting to choose the path they feel they’ll find happiness.”
Mac’s right. He always is.
I’m back home with a bunch of people who are right.
I just don’t feel right and it makes me feel worse to know the path of happiness Allison chose isn’t with me.
I guess I have bigger things to worry about than something I can’t change.
Dylan
I went to the house and saw my family.
Allison wasn’t there, but everyone else was: Mom, Dad, and my brothers Sean and Tom.
I went for dinner and all that happened is what I’d expected.
The last time I saw my parents was when I woke from my coma after the incident. I was in a coma for just over a month. I was at the medical center at the base in Afghanistan and my parents were there the whole time. Before and after I woke.
That spanned over a two-month period before I could do physical therapy. So I was in that damn hospital bed all that time.
When I started doing the therapy I knew from the twitch in the back of my leg that it would be a problem. The doctors said it might go away over time, though it never did. I still pushed through and pushed back against nature, getting myself back up to speed over the six-month period I was down. Everyone saw how hard I worked.
Even my captain, so while I might feel like killing his ass as the instigator for shipping me out, I understand.
I’ve been sitting on the side of the porch for the last two hours. Luke and I used to hide out around here and smoke when we were in our teens. I’m smoking now by myself.
I quit five times before and I’ve still technically quit but I just need something to take the edge off. I don’t want to start drinking because I don’t think that would bode well for me.
It would have the desired mind-numbing effect I’m aiming for but I doubt Mac would be able to stand the drunk version of me—not when he’s inside his office planning out his week. Earlier I left him in there and he’s still in there. He’s the classic example of a person getting lost in their work. I guess that’s what makes him so good at what he does and why he’s the head of his division.
Night fell hours ago. When I came out here it was eight. I think it might be something like after ten now so suspicion completely spills out of me when I see Miss Thing pull up on the curb in her little yellow Porsche.
She can’t see me from where I’m sitting but I can totally see her in those denim shorts that show off long legs any guy would imagine wrapped around them, and there’s no way I’m gonna look at her in that tank top and not stare at her tits.
Her white-blonde platinum hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun and it looks like she thought she was going for a casual look, but nope. There’s nothing casual about this woman.
As she walks up to the porch and stops I can tell from the way she moves she’s clueless as to the effect she has. How the sway of those hips lulls me and the slight jiggle of her massive globes as she moves.
It’s all so very interesting because I don’t know what she’s doing here, and at this hour. But I’m sure as hell gonna find out.
Mac said her head was alright and there’s no bandage on it now, so I show no remorse when I practically leap out from behind the bushes and she near jumps out of her skin and shrieks.
I simply laugh as she stops in her tracks with her hand on her heart.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” She winces, gasping for air. Her bright green eyes go wide.
“Not a damn thing,” I reply.
I can’t believe this chick hit me with a frying pan. What did she seriously think that was going to do? The worse part was instead of getting out of the house when she thought I was a burglar, she thought she’d come for me.
“You can’t just jump out at people like that,” she continues to chide me and my eyes drop to deep cleavage when she folds her arms under her breasts.
“But you see that scream? That’s what you do when you think you’re being attacked. Next would be running. Not attacking your mentor’s dearest relatives with his kitchenware,” I point out.
She doesn’t like the comment but I can tell she’s more concerned with the way she’d behaved on our first meeting. Her hands drop to her sides.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were a burglar.”
“Okay, yeah you said that. Big life lesson here—burglars are not good people. If you think one of them is in your house then you get out. Flee.”
“I was checking and when you jumped out of the bathroom it was too late to flee.”
“No it wasn’t, and I didn’t jump out. I came out like a normal person and you attacked me.”
“I had reason to attack you.”
“Should have run…” I was done with this. On to more juicer stuff. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
Under the mingle of the moon and the subtle porch lights, I can just see the slight creep of pink fill her cheeks as she blushes.
“I came to give Mac a present,” she answers.
“What kind of present is this and why couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?” I look her over with suspicion.
She looks taken aback by my bluntness. Most people are when they meet me. They don’t know how to take me and it throws them the same way it’s throwing Miss Thing now.
She reaches into the back of her pocket and pulls out a little gold pen. The kind you’d see in those catalogue stores or a hardware store left for the customers to use.
She holds it up.
It’s supposed to give me the answer to the question but I just see a crock of shit. An excuse for someone who thinks the other was born yesterday.
“You drove over here to give him a pen?”
“He likes pens and this is a Montpellier.”
“A who?” I raise my brows because it still sounds like some excuse just to fool me. There’s no way she’s here for that.
“Mont-pe-llier, but I don’t expect you to know what that is. Clearly you just grab any old pen to write with.”
“Actually I do. I think you’d find that the average person does just that. But please girly, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but it’s not me.” I fold my arms now and give myself permission to look her up and down, and take my own sweet time doing it too.
“What do you mean?” Her jaw clenches and those bright green eyes of hers narrow.
“Men like me—average men like me—wouldn’t know whatever the fuck a Montpellier is. But someone as classy, older, and sophisticated like my uncle might. In fact I’d bet my ass they would.”
“What are you trying to say?” she throws back.
“I’m saying you aren’t here at this hour to apologize to the marine you tried to kill with a frying pan, or to deliver a pen.”
Her mouth drops wide open. “What are you even saying? And I didn’t try to kill you. I was defending myself.”
“And yet I did nothing to you to make you think you needed to defend yourself.”
“You crept in the house.”
“I used the key and came in through the door. I have my own key.”
“You left the door wide open.”
“So what were you even doing in Mac’s house without him? That says to me you do that on the regular, and look at you here again tonight. What else is a person to think? You’re sleeping with my uncle, aren’t you?”
She looked surprised before but as shock suffuses her pretty face, her skin just turns pale.
“What the hell? Are you kidding me?”
“No…not a damn bit.”
“I’m not sleeping with him! He’s my mentor. I’ve worked with Mac for years.”
“That’s another thing…Mac…you call your boss, who’s an esteemed official, by his first name. Sweetheart, that’s a dead giveaway.”
“We all call him Mac. We’re a team. I’ve called him Mac since med scho
ol.”
I shake my head and decide to rile her up even more. “Nah, that won’t fly with me. If you wanted me to believe you more you should at least call him Dr. Kane. You are totally sleeping with him. And I’m not sure what to think about that, other than be appalled. Shame on you for taking advantage of a widower.”
The woman has more balls than I gave her credit for. I wasn’t expecting the slap she landed across my cheek. Didn’t even see her hand coming for me until the sting of it got me good.
And she hits hard too.
She balls her fists and glowers at me. “You asshole, how dare you?” she balks. “Dr. Kane is like a father to me. Now fuck off.”
The growl makes her face contort, but what she does just then does two things to me.
Number one, I believe her. She isn’t sleeping with Mac. She came to him for the same reason I’m here. That father thing.
And number two, she just piqued my interest big time.
More than it already was. The slap to my cheek sparks chemistry and attraction, and as she storms back to her car I find myself smiling.
She is a nice little distraction.
As the door behind me clicks open and Mac steps out, his face is definitely in disagreement as he looks ahead and sees the Porsche speed away. He knows I did something.
I only remember when he looks back to me that he’d said something about not terrorizing his mentees.
I couldn’t help it when it came to her.
There is something about her.
Must have been a powerful something to make me forget all the shit.
If only for five minutes.
Abby
I am still on fire. And it isn’t because my head still hurts.
This is angry fire.
I woke with it coursing through me and stepped into work with it giving me an automatic scowl on my face.
It isn’t the way I want to start my first day of the last year of my residency.
I at least want to come in with a normal-looking face. I wouldn’t have minded a smile although that would have been weird because no one else is smiling.
We’re all glad we made it this far but we all know it’s going to be a tough hands-on year of research and practical work to shape the rest of our lives.
That’s what it will be in essence.
I’m supposed to be thinking about that, not have that asshole on my mind.
Dylan…
Mac could be abrasive. I’d known him to be exactly that, but not a jerk like his nephew.
I couldn’t believe it when Dylan made the accusation that I was sleeping with his uncle. Just thinking about it now makes me cringe and want to breathe fire.
Ughhhh. That damn asshole.
Embarrassment took me when he first implied it. I remembered him saying something along those lines when I came to on Saturday, after my fall, but really to hear him actually confront me about it was just wrong.
Rage took me when he pointed out that Mac was a widower.
That was when anger came because I knew how awful Mac must have felt when his wife and son died. I didn’t know him then but when we met it was very evident that he was in a time of grief.
We’d heard things about what happened to him because it was so tragic.
But he actually told me the story of what happened after Jack died.
He’d told me that his wife and son were on their way to watch him get an award. They were in Florida visiting relatives for the summer and even missed their flight. He told me how he arranged for his wife to get another flight because he really wanted them at the ceremony.
Then they got back to Chicago only to be killed instantly in a head-on collision with a drunk driver.
His story gripped me to no end.
I was so sad for him, so to hear I was taking advantage of him made me want to reign hell fire on the man that dealt the accusation.
Like I wasn’t conflicted enough, in true Abby style I had to go on and make things more haywire crazy than they already were because damn it, I wasn’t sure what upset me more—Dylan with his obnoxious self or the fact that my stupid body betrayed me when I kept focusing on how gorgeous he was.
I’m still like that now.
The morning started with a brief orientation for all the doctors who were on their residency and fellowship. We then went to our teams.
I came in with Tania and she was in the mood I wished I could be in.
Apparently this guy she is seeing is one to keep for a while. His name is Owen and he’s got her attention in a big way.
She’s been talking nonstop about him as we walk down the corridor that leads to our unit.
Usually I can deal with her continuous guy chatter but today it’s annoying me.
When we get down to the neurology unit I’m glad to see we’re the first in.
There’s eight of us on the team.
Mac, Chad, and Celine head the unit. Tania and I are the sidekicks, and then there’s Neil, Dennis, and Antony. They work in the labs.
Mac hand-selected his team so I know what being back here means. I knew what it meant to be picked last year because Tania and I are the only residents ever to be part of an actual diagnostics team at the hospital.
There’s ten other residents Mac will be working with as per usual in their research. He’ll be working with us, but we actually work for his team.
Recruitment into his team is also unheard of because Mac likes to keep things a certain kind of way. We bounce ideas off each other and he always says it requires a certain kind of trust to do that effectively.
“I can’t wait to see Owen later. It’s been awhile since I felt like this, Abby,” Tania bubbles as we set our bags in our lockers.
I smile just for her. It’s not fair for me to be a bitch and not celebrate her good news just because I’m in a foul mood.
“I’m happy for you. That’s nice,” I say, and try to keep up the smile.
“Abby, you sound so fake.” She laughs and her shiny black hair bounces with life. She’s had it cut into a bob with the front longer and it really suits her heart-shaped face.
“I’m not being fake. I’m just in a damn mood I can’t shake.”
I haven’t even told her how my weekend went. Maybe I should.
She winces at that. I noted how she hasn’t even asked me yet about Wade and it’s because she more than likely expected me to follow her advice.
Of course she would because I’ve been with the man for five months.
I messaged him back Saturday night and told him I wasn’t sure about it then asked to meet for dinner on Wednesday.
I’m breaking up with him then.
Tania notices my disdain and that something more than usual is off with me.
“Come, let’s sit and talk before the others get here. Sorry I was away for most of the weekend.” She links her arm with mine and ushers me over to the sofa area we use to huddle. “Okay, what’s up? You’ve been in an awful mood all morning. Sure it’s Monday, but you look like you’re ready to kill a person just for that.”
That makes me smile. “I’m sorry. And I am happy you’re into Owen. You seem to like him.” I haven’t met him yet but from the way she is going on I think it is sounding like I might soon.
“Thanks, I am really into him. So I’m good. You aren’t though. Talk to me.”
I figure I’ll start with the most pressing thing on my mind. “Tania…did you at any point ever, ever, ever think I was sleeping with Mac?”
Her eyes bulge and turn to saucers. First she starts laughing then she gasps and covers her mouth the way you would after you got some saucy news.
“Abby are you telling me you did? You slept with Mac?” Her voice rises by several octaves and I have to look around to make sure no one heard her.
“No, of course not! I’m not saying that.” I bring my hands to my cheeks that are already hot.
“Thank goodness. I know he has that Sean Connery vibe that’s kind of older man sexy, but I
thought you’d lost your mind.”
I roll my eyes at her. “I haven’t lost my mind. But tell me…did you ever think it?”
Now I feel completely foolish because she looks guilty. “Please don’t get mad, but yeah maybe I did just a little. Before you started dating Wade.”
I groan inwardly.
I must be really naïve, blind, or stupid. Or all of the above. Because she’s saying she thought I was sleeping with Mac five months ago. Great. Just wonderful.
“Oh Abby, it’s because you’re always with him. Always at his house gardening.”
“We were gardening! I planted runner beans and sunflowers.”
“Okay, so I believe that because I saw said runner beans and ate them last time I was over at Mac’s place, and I saw sunflowers. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to think it. You know I wouldn’t have judged. But I know you aren’t sleeping with him.”
It’s nice to know but I completely see now why Dylan thought it, even if he is a gorgeous prick.
“What happened? Someone said something right? Must be that because I know you aren’t thinking of sleeping with Mac. It kind of sounds gross to say it, as much as I love him.”
“It was his obnoxious nephew.”
“You met one of Mac’s nephews?”
She looks at me with interest because she knows his nephews are all military men.
“Yes, and he’s just awful. Nothing like Mac at all.” I scowl.
“Tell me what happened.”
I pull in a deep breath and tell her, filling her in on the craziness while she listens, hanging on to every word and laughing harder for how I finished up my second encounter with Dylan. I don’t even know his last name.
“Abby, you hit Mac’s nephew with a frying pan and then slapped him?” she asks.
“That’s what you got from all of that Tania? Not the part about me thinking he was a burglar?”
“Girl please, that is just ridiculous. And yes, that’s what I’m rounding off with because that’s the part he’s going to remember when he next sees you.” She laughs harder.
“Next? No, there’ll be no next time. I’ll be calling ahead. I just wanted to drop off a pen for Mac and he thought I was there to get some action.”
Dylan Page 3