Interference (Bases Series Book 1)

by Hazel Grace

  Present day

  “Well, this place is quaint,” Myles compliments, shedding his light black coat over the chair. Dressed in navy blue scrubs and a white long-sleeve shirt underneath, he smiles as he takes a seat across from me, scuffing up his short dirty blond hair.

  I never watched Grey’s Anatomy, but I do know that Myles would be one of the male characters. Every patient's dream, the smart, sexy one who busted his ass at Yale or Harvard so he could be a good doctor.

  And if I didn’t know that he just got off a twelve-hour shift at the hospital with bags under his eyes, I’d say he just walked out of bed with a woman because his being single is a God damn shame.

  For everyone else but me, that is.

  After many arguments with Taylor, I decided to venture out on this blind date. Well, not so much blind, I forced her to show me about fifty of his Facebook pictures before I even let her set me up with him.

  It’s time, I guess.

  I haven’t dated since my sophomore year of college, and even then I wouldn’t have called it that because I never got past the second date. I’d evaluate too harshly or they’d do something that would remind me of him, and I’d instantly start shutting down.

  More like run away in the opposite direction, fake a headache or take a “bathroom break” and never come back.

  But Myles was different. For starters, he was a doctor in the ER, not like college guys who crammed in studying after a full weekend of partying. He showed a sense of maturity because he has a five-year-old daughter that he splits custody with. He’s charming, witty, and, well, not a cocky dickhead version of Colson Hayes.

  Need I say more?

  “I’m glad you could come,” I reply, crossing my legs under the table and bouncing my foot.

  His light green eyes shoot up from over the small menu at me, melting me to my chair.

  “I am too. Sorry, I couldn’t meet up sooner, they have me booked solid for two weeks in advance since we’re so short staffed.”

  I shrug. “I can’t fault you for that.”

  “I can,” he retorts, giving me a once over. “Only a stupid man would turn down a beautiful woman for dinner.”

  Do. Not. Fan. Yourself.

  I force a soft chuckle to fill in for a response. Yes, I asked him to dinner last week, and he turned me down, saying he was too busy, but he made up for it with the text yesterday, begging me to let him take me out.

  I didn’t mind that it was just for coffee, it was more my style. Other than the awkwardness of having to get dressed up and him coming to pick me up. Coffee was a shorter date, a slower pace, and I want to take baby steps.

  “How did you know I was beautiful?” I ask with constricted eyes, but my lips are quirked.

  The corners of his lips lift sheepishly. “Busted.”

  I smile, and my jaw drops. “You had Taylor show you pictures of me!” He laughs a hearty tone that warms my skin and points at me.

  “So did you, Miss Boyd,” he counters. “You’re like my patients who lie about eating sugar.”

  I shrug. “It’s a stupid question to ask because everyone eats sugar, doctor.” He throws his hands casually in the air and leans back in his chair.

  “Alright, I lost brownie points.”

  “I’ll let you win them back with coffee,” I quip with a grin. He smiles back, his chiseled jaw aligned with matching stubble around his chin and above his upper lip. “How was your shift?”

  He places his elbows on the table and leans forward. “Long as hell. Spring brings bee stings and allergies, but at least it makes the day go by quick.” He studies me. “How about you?”

  “Spring brings new listings and plenty of buyers, so same.”

  “How’s your dad?”

  “Restless,” I sigh. “He wants to come back to the office full time. I keep him busy at home and taught him how to use a laptop.”

  Myles’ nose twists. “Ugh, how long did that take?”

  I take in a steady long inhale. “He still calls me every day with questions.”

  “Well, I have a question, if I may?”

  I nod. “You may.”

  “You said that you played softball in high school, right?”

  “Sure did.”

  If Taylor told him embarrassing stories of me she’s a dead woman walking.

  “Well, I just joined this league, a few guys at work play there.”

  “The Renegades, yeah, I went to school with a few of them.” He blinks once, not breaking his eye contact with me, and the angle that the sun hits his eyes, I can see the mixture of light brown in them.

  Son of a bitch.

  I shove back the coincidences of Myles and my nemesis, crush, the guys who terrorized me through a good portion of my senior year out of my head.

  “I was hoping you’d come to the first game.” My heart does this weird warming and twisting thing. It’s a mixture of excitement that he wants to see me again and the nostalgic memories of my past having to do with baseball in general. My high school practices, the games, the way I’d track Colson out of the corner of my eye to make sure he wasn’t near me.

  I tamper down my feelings, clasping my hands together and squeeze.

  A hot doctor wants to see me again. Shut the hell up.

  “I’d love to be there,” I reply.

  His smile widens. “I was hoping you would.” He stands from his chair. “Do you mind if I order for us?”

  “Not at all.” He walks over to the petite counter, looking over the menu written in different colors on a black chalkboard.

  I take a moment to study his ass, sue me, and his average height as he orders with the middle-aged woman across the counter. She writes it down on a small note pad, running behind the counter to fix up what he got us, and then he does it.

  He peers over his shoulder, fixing me with a devilish smirk, his eyes gleaming with pure interest and contentment.

  My mind immediately slams into the other day with Colson. The look of loathing as he slammed his door in my face. The ongoing days where Skylar has been blowing up my phone about what he said, is he going to call her, and if my apology was “good enough.”

  The short answer was no.

  He sure as hell wasn’t going to call her, being the same dickhead he was before, but I’m having a hard time telling her that. I shouldn’t be though.

  Skylar was pushy, relentless with what she wanted. I mean, geezus, she nagged me to death until I agreed to go see him and “fix” what I did so he’d date her. Even if Colson and I weren’t linked, they wouldn’t be a good fit. He’s too brutally honest, and Skylar needs things sugarcoated to what she wants to hear.

  And I got to hear exactly what he thought of me.

  “Chocolate or Caramel?” Myles asks me, holding two steaming cups.

  “Caramel, please.”

  “Excellent.” He hands me the saucer with my beverage. “Because my chocolate latte looks delicious.”

  I blow the top of my steaming cup. “And if I wanted the chocolate one?”

  He blows out an over exaggerated breath through his lips. “Then I would’ve had to pretend my pager went off and leave.”

  “Oh wow,” I chuckle with a scoff. “How do you and your daughter get along so well then if you don’t share? And how is she, by the way?”

  “We play rock, paper, scissors. And she’s perfect, as always. She’s staying with her mom this weekend, so I was thinking of dinner and a movie on Saturday?”

  I raise a brow. “Are you asking me on a night date?” He blows on his drink and raises one brow.

  “I am.”

  “I’d love to.”

  Hopefully, that’ll help me forget the man that’s been popping back into my mind since he walked into my parents’ house.

  Because I’m an asshole.

  And he’s a prick.

  “How about you pick the movie, and I’ll pick the restaurant,” Myles offers.

  I cock my head. “I don’t know, you might regret that.”


  “I can watch a chick flick,” he professes, sipping his latte.

  I shake my head. “I like scary movies.”

  “Do you?” I nod. “Are you sure it’s not just that you want to cuddle up with me during the scary parts?”

  I snap my fingers. “Damn, you’re on to me. Am I that predictable?”

  “Hmm...not at all. I’m still trying to figure out what flowers you’d like, and I’m starting to think you’re not a huge fan of chocolate.”

  “Tiger lilies, and I like salty snacks over candy,” I pledge. “You have a pretty good chance at anything in the snack aisle.”

  “So a bag of Doritos and we’re set?” he asks.

  I grin. “You’d hate to be my doctor because I’d lie about any question regarding my salt consumption.”

  He hides his smirk with the back of his hand. “I’d like to say something very inappropriate so let’s just say, you’re right. I’d lose my license and probably get a lawsuit.”

  I crush my lips together so I don’t spit out my latte at his teasing. Then reply, “I don’t kiss and tell, doctor.”

  “Well, that’s a shame,” he claims, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Because I’d like to be a topic with your girlfriends on my certain specialties.”

  Well, hello, Doctor Dirty. Where did you come from?

  I hide my smirk with my cup, taking a sip, as the soft ring of bells fills the quaint coffee shop. Glancing up, Colson strides inside.

  Fuck.

  I quickly swallow the hot liquid, burning my tongue and esophagus as I cup my forehead with my hand. I turn toward the window, praying to God that he’s in a damn hurry, orders, and leaves. It further doesn’t help that we’re the only freaking people in the whole place.

  “I’m sorry,” Myles concedes with regret in his tone. “Did I take that way too far?”

  “No, no,” I mutter with a small shake of my head. “Just getting a slight headache.” Myles’ face falls, as though he doesn’t believe me and that I’m now trying to think of a reason to leave. “No, really, give me a second. I’ll be fine.”

  Dammit, Colson.

  “I have some aspirin in my car.” I hear his chair slide across the hardwood floor, and my hand shoots across the table as he attempts to stand.

  “No,” I snap. “I mean...I swear, I’m good. They come and go so quickly that I just need a—”

  “Is that you, Sawyer Boyd?” I cringe outwardly, the table rattling under my sudden movement.

  I swear to everything holy on this Earth that this man is going to be the absolute death of me.

  Slowly, I remove my hand, turning my head to discover Colson dressed at the end of our table in a gray distressed shirt and ripped jeans. His hair is carelessly styled, like he just woke up, threw some clothes on, and came in here for some caffeine.

  At the wrong damn time.

  “Hey,” I say, watching an evil leer emerge across his face.

  We both know what he’s going to do, been here way too many times. And unfortunately, he hasn’t suffered any brain loss since we’ve last seen each other.

  Colson nods toward Myles but keeps his eyes on me. “Who’s your friend?” A hand appears in Colson’s direction, Myles staying polite and courteous.

  “Dr. Myles Trava, nice to meet you.” Colson doesn’t acknowledge his outreached hand, just looks at him emotionless.

  “Doctor Myles Trava?”

  “Yeah, just took a job here at Wakesfield Mercy Hospital.”

  Colson raises a brow. “Impressive. Looks likes Sawyer has upped her game since the last one.” Myles narrows his brows and so do I.

  Is he talking about himself? We were kids for fuck's sake.

  Colson rakes his hand through his hair. “That’s...scary.”

  “Scary?” Myles repeats.

  “Yeah,” Colson replies, blowing air out of his cheeks. “I mean, it’s none of my business.”

  “What do you mean?” Myles presses.

  I’m about to slam my hand against the small table, but Colson beats me from my mini temper tantrum.

  “Well, with Boyd here—” he throws a nod my way “—she’ll take you to the damn cleaners. I mean, she did with me. I lost my scholarship, my friends, had to start clean over after I got associated with her.”

  “Colson,” I seize, but he ignores me, watching Myles glance at me in confusion.

  “It’s rude to say it in front of her,” Colson vows casually, waving his hand in the air before lowering his voice. “I know it’s uncomfortable for me to even say it. But I feel like it’s my civic duty to save any unknowing men of her intentions. Especially, no offense, men with money.”

  “Myles,” I murmur. “Don’t listen to him. He’s complete—”

  “Absolutely,” Colson agrees, straightening. “Make your own assessment.” He lowers his voice again. “Just...be careful, man, condoms at all times.” Before I know it, I’m on my feet. I’m so pissed that I feel like I’m going to hemorrhage from the animosity that I feel for Colson right at this moment.

  I can’t deal with this, running into him all the time in the most random of places, living in the same small town. It’s bad enough I have to live in this town with memories of him, but his being here confirms that he’s going to make my life a living and breathing hell anyway he can while he’s here.

  “Leave,” I snap, pinning him with a glare. “You have no right to spread rumors about me and to someone that you don’t even know.” Colson hooks his eyes on me, burning with that same resentment he’d shown at his front door. But this time, he crossed a line, and I’ll be damned if I let this be a common occurrence.

  “Colson,” bellows the barista over the counter. “Order’s up.” His mouth twists in triumph, silently telling me good luck with saving my budding relationship with Myles. That he has no problem destroying anything that could make me happy. He wants to steal every opportunity of a good life for me and smash it while I watch.

  He turns on his heels, grabs his coffee, and doesn’t bother looking back, knowing his words were enough.

  Enough for me to fear for my sanity.

  My life.

  My happiness.

  My heart.

  Because if there was one thing that never stopped, it was always the small piece of it that still burned for him.

  Until today.

  Today, he waged war on me.

  Again.

  Ten years ago

  I broke up with Logan.

  Sadness and doubt come in violent spurts, and I’m the one to blame. I put too much pressure on what I wanted from him and what I expected, knowing from the very beginning it was never who he truly was.

  When Colson asked me to dance at Ben’s party last weekend, I wanted Logan to speak up and tell him “no.” That no other guy was going to dance with me but him. That we only had a few days together, and he wasn’t going to waste a second of it. And after hearing Colson’s words, while they still repeated in my head, I knew for a fact I wanted more.

  My second problem was that when Logan didn’t say “no,” I was kind of glad. He didn’t like music or the radio cranked up to full volume. He didn’t like ransacking the snack aisle at 7-Eleven or driving around with no destination with the windows down just to get out. The more time we spent together, the more things became clear that we weren’t a good match. But I ignored it, wanting to have a piece of Michigan with me, wanting someone to think of me.

  Someone who thought I was worth being a girlfriend to.

  Then there was my third problem, the biggest one of all. The thrill Colson sent through my body when he said he’d do anything to see me smile. That it’d be me on his arm, and he’d never let someone take me away from him as he did with Logan.

  It wasn’t the popularity I wanted, because Colson would come with an unwanted status, but the possessiveness. The way his eyes ate me alive. I’ve never had anyone look at me like that. And I can’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

  All I kno
w is that he can’t do that.

  I can’t do that.

  He’s an asshole, I’m the nice girl. He doesn’t want to stay in Freemont whereas I honestly don’t care. I’ll accept whatever college will take me with whatever amount of scholarship money I can get. Plus he makes me feel stupid and awkward just being around him, and that’s not what I want for my senior year or in a new town where I’m still adjusting.

  Still, I couldn’t escape the vacant time that used to be filled with Logan’s text messages and phone calls. I guess I just...miss him.

  I miss the safeness of him.

  “What’s going on, Sawyer?” Gavin greets me, holding up his hand to give me a high five. “How was your weekend?”

  I hang my batting bag on the chain-linked fence. “Logan and I broke up.” It’s the first time I’ve verbally said it out loud, feeling a slight pain in my chest.

  Gavin halts from pulling his bat out of his bag and turns to face me. “Aw man, I’m sorry,” he says as he takes a step closer to me. “You alright?”

  I give a half shrug. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet.”

  Gavin blows out a breath. “Man, that sucks. I’m really sorry.” He hits my shoulder lightly. “But, hey, there’s a party at Moonlight Ridge this Friday if you wanna get your mind off things.”

  “Moonlight Ridge?”

  “Yeah.” He leans his back against the fence. “Y’all ever play truth or dare up in Michigan?”

  “Not since middle school.” Gavin rolls his eyes with a sly grin.

  “Well, you see, it’s kinda like that but with a third rule. If you don’t do the truth or the dare then you have to do the ultimate challenge.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “An ultimate challenge? Why would someone do that, it sounds worse.”

  “Not necessarily. Rebecca Walters got creamed with a pie to her face. It’s just random shit we think of.”

  “Sounds...Oklahoma.”

  “Yeah, whatever, city girl,” he chuckles. “We try and make it fun around here, okay?”

  “I think I’ll stick to my pint of cookie dough ice cream, thanks,” I allude, pulling out my mitt.

  He holds out his hand. “Let me see your phone, I’ll put my number in it in case you change your mind.” I give him my phone, where he programs his name as “the sexiest guy friend I have” and offers it back. “Will you do me a favor?”