Invitation

by Christina Hoffman

  He sat up straighter. “So, I guess I'm going to sound like a real asshole, but I think we need to either decide we can both handle this staying a physical thing, or we should just try to stay away from each other. I think I could really fall for you, and I can't let that happen.”

  I sat quietly for a minute.

  “You think I'm an asshole,” he said sadly. But I shook my head.

  “I think we're both assholes. But we've worked so hard to get here. Our lives come second to work. That's just the way it is. Even if we were both in the same place... I mean, seriously, checking our phones for possible dates two weeks from now? You're right. It's impossible.”

  “So, which is it going to be? Are you in or out? I totally get if you need to just cool it and not have to deal with all this...”

  As he talked I got up and stood in front of him. He was dressed, but I had just my flimsy robe on. I looked right into his sparkling blue eyes. “I have a feeling this is sort of a once-in-lifetime thing. And I'll take it as long as I can get it.”

  I reached to his waist, and pulled his t-shirt over his head. I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He hadn't put socks on yet, so once I had pushed his pants and underwear down to the floor and kicked them to the side, he was completely naked.

  “Once again there is not enough time for me to really have my way with you...” He smiled up at me and leaned back. He reached his hands out.

  “Just a minute.” I kneeled between his legs and stroked his cock softly. I licked it like an ice cream until he was hard as a rock and pulling my hair. Then I stood up and let the robe slide off me. He stared at every part of me. I watched his cock throb and bounce. He started to touch himself, but I said, “No, no. That's mine.”

  “Let me touch you.” He tried to grab between my legs.

  “There's no need. I'm already dripping wet.”

  He put his hands to his face and leaned back. “This isn't playing fair.”

  I moved back towards him. I straddled him, but didn't sink down onto him. I grabbed him and put him at my entrance. He felt it wet and hot and pulled me down onto him, burying himself inside me. He grabbed my hips and moved me up and down. God he was strong. I started rocking my hips in rhythm. We fit together so perfectly. It just felt so easy and right.

  I grabbed his shoulders and leaned back. He bit my nipples. I squeezed my core tight around him. He grabbed my ass hard and started ramming up into me.

  “Touch yourself now,” he ordered. I put my fingers into my cleft and felt his cock moving in and out beneath them. “Touch yourself. I want to watch.” He slowed his thrusts and leaned back, looking down to where my fingers where.

  He lifted my hand to his mouth and sucked on my fingers. Then he put my hand down on my sensitive place and started moving it in circles. At the same time he started gently, slowly thrusting up into me again. He clutched my ass and moved in rhythm with my building tension. I circled my clit harder and faster. He watched.

  “That is so sexy,” he panted.

  I was beyond speech. His pounding became harder and faster. I rubbed my clit until I cried out incoherently. He slammed into me once more, driving up all the way into me, and then he too tumbled over the edge. He crushed me against his chest and buried his face in my hair. “Oh, baby,” he chanted until his breath slowed.

  Eventually, we pulled ourselves apart and got dressed.

  “I really have to go now.”

  “I know.”

  This time he was the one with little frown lines on his forehead. I rubbed them away and smiled. “Penny for your thoughts?”

  But he didn't smile back. He just wrapped his arms around me, kissed me on the forehead, and said, “I think we're in trouble.”

  And then he left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The next day was a study day for me. I had a midway exam coming up and wanted to get a great mark. Anything I could do to get Dr. Olsen to like me without slime ball’s help was a good thing.

  I was exhausted, but in a nice way. Being tired because I’d been busy the day before with someone amazing was entirely different from being wiped-out from too many days and nights on call. A shower woke me up a bit and loosened my sore muscles.

  I grabbed my laptop, some books and a few protein bars and headed for the library. The rain continued on. I usually study at the bigger Humanities library on campus, but the hospital was much closer, and I was already frozen, so I made my way there.

  I found the study area deserted, which was great. I grabbed the carrel in the farthest, quietest corner and got to work. I mainly had a lot of memorizing to do: bizarre symptoms, drug dosages, stuff like that. None of it was too hard by itself; it was just the amount of stuff to remember that got overwhelming at times. I could see how all the residents had developed their severe caffeine addictions.

  I worked for about three hours and then needed to stretch my legs. I was chilled, of course, so I headed for the cafeteria to get some tea. I guess I was secretly hoping to see Liam. I figured even catching a glimpse would help me pass the rest of the day.

  But there was no sign of him. He was probably swamped down in Emergency. Usually I would try to do something nice, like take him something to eat, but I wasn’t his girlfriend.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was playing a pretty dangerous game. Seeing him would only make me think about him more. I needed to get better at dividing my school and work life with my extracurricular activities. This might be one of those reasons to not date a coworker. Not that we were dating. Or whatever.

  So, instead of tracking him down or paging him, I went back to the study room and did my best to play the dutiful student. By 3:30, I had been at it for seven hours and my brain needed a time out. I decided I’d go home.

  When I finally left the hospital, I found that the rain had stopped. It wasn’t exactly nice weather, but it meant I didn’t have to lift my hood, hunch over, and run home as fast as I could. In fact, I wanted to get a little fresh air. So, I walked back to my new favorite lingerie shop. Meredith, the classy salesperson was there again and quickly gathered up all her favorites for me to try on.

  I expected to feel as excited and pretty as I had last time. Right in the middle of putting the pale pink teddy on, though, I realized that I didn’t need any lingerie. Liam was leaving in a couple of weeks. I didn’t know how long he was going for, but from the way he talked about it, it was clear that he thought we were only going to be getting together until he left.

  I don’t know why I was so shocked by my feelings, but I really was. I was going to miss him. I was going to miss him so much. My heart sank in my chest and I dropped onto the bench in the change room. I felt hollowed out and empty. Whatever limitations we had put on our relationship, it had brought me a sense of peace and happiness that had been missing from my life for a long time. Thinking of life after he’d gone was unbearable.

  I started crying, and when the salesperson, Meredith, came to the back, I tried to pull myself together. It didn’t work, though, and I ended up just making up some silly excuse and burning it out of the store. I speed-walked home sniffling all the way.

  When I got home, I cranked up the heat, stripped down and ran a bath. I tried to relax into the warm water, but the warmth and comfort of it made me miss Liam. It was time to admit it. I was in deep. I liked him. A LOT. And I was pretty sure he liked me.

  I got out of the bath, put on my robe, and then sat on my bed staring at my phone. Should I call him? Should I text him something flirty and casual? Should I just be a grown up and say I wanted to talk to him? And then be brave, and go for it, and tell him I wanted whatever “it” was to be something more?

  Right when I had convinced myself to “woman up” and call Liam, I received the following text from him:

  Madison, you're so great. But I can't do this. Sorry.

  And my heart slammed shut once more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  He was gone.

  His rotation
in Cardiology at my hospital was finished. He had moved on to something else in the hospital on the other side of the city.

  He didn't call. Or text. Or email. He disappeared. His body was gone, but the hole he'd left inside me had weight and power. I felt heavy and sick, and miserably lonely.

  The days ran together. The nights were worse. I began looking forward to being on call, and took on extra shifts. It won me some brownie points, but the real goal for me was oblivion. I was too busy to think and too tired to feel.

  Late one night, though, after twelve days had passed (but who was counting?) I sent him a text. Just a stupid short, “Hi, how are you? How's the new rotation?” bullshit sort of message where you try to sound really casual, but you end up crying yourself to sleep about it because they don’t answer back.

  I was glad that this had happened while I was on my Pediatrics rotation. No other ward could have cheered me up, at least a little. The kids were happy to see me. Lots of the parents were exhausted and strung out on fear, but they seemed to calm down around me, so the nurses started calling me when things were spiraling out of control.

  I surprised myself. I had been such an isolated loner, but it turns out that I liked talking to patients and their families. Helping them understand things and feel better made me feel useful. And it kept me busy.

  Little Alex had healed up enough to go home, and now I was only seeing him from time to time at one of the outpatient clinics. I thought all my patients were brave and wonderful little people, but Alex and I had struck up some kind of bond. I had been collecting cars and monster trucks for him whenever I saw one, and he loved to bring the whole collection in to show the nurses and me. He had a face that just made you feel better. All long eyelashes and summery freckles.

  One afternoon, after I'd finished checking his vitals and reviewing his blood work with his parents, I got paged to see Dr. Olsen. I had really been working hard and, I thought, keeping myself out of trouble, so I was surprised to be summoned to her office. I didn't know why she would need to see me.

  Here I can only say that it is important to not forget about the snakes and rats of this world. Because, where an actual human being might notice you're a little down and give you a break, these life forms prefer to move in for the kill.

  I made my way as quickly as I could to her office. It was on another floor at the far end of the hospital. Even after practically running, and skipping the slow-moving elevators to take the stairs, it took a few minutes to get there. She was checking the time on her phone when I knocked on her door. She looked up at me, already annoyed.

  “Sorry, Dr. Olsen. I was over at the Outpatient Clinic…”

  She waved her hand at me. “Never mind, Madison. Have a seat.”

  This is when I noticed Owen was already in the office. He was sitting in a chair next to the one I was supposed to take. I pulled my chair closer to me, away from him and sat down. He looked annoyed, but then again, when didn't he?

  The office was small and cluttered, which surprised me. Dr. Olsen seemed like a person who would have furniture made of sterilized glass. But instead, she had warm wood furniture and pale yellow walls. What you could see on the walls, anyway, because they were crowded with drawings made for her by hundreds of little kids. I looked around at all the bursts of color and made the mistake of relaxing just a little.

  “Dr. Humphries has brought some concerns to my attention,” she started.

  I looked over at Owen who refused to make eye contact with me. I was completely confused. “I'm sorry?” I started. “I don't understand.”

  She folded her hands together and leaned back in her chair. “I can't be everywhere at once, obviously.” I nodded. “So, I rely on the senior residents to keep me informed about people's progress.” I nodded again, but my stomach was sinking. Where could this be going?

  “He tells me you did poorly on the first exam.”

  I started to disagree, but she put her hand up. “Please don't interrupt me.”

  I sat back in my chair to listen. “He also tells me that you've been carrying on with one of the other residents and that this seems to have impacted your work.”

  She leaned forward, waiting for a response from me. Other people would probably come up with great arguments on the spot, but I was just frightened, and completely flustered. Whose business was it who I saw outside the hospital? And why would they say I hadn't been working hard? I put in more hours than any other student. And what was she talking about with the exam? I got 80% on it. Not amazing, obviously, but cause enough to be dragged into a meeting? What was going on?

  “Dr. Olsen, I apologize. This is a surprise to me.” I swallowed hard, forcing my voice not to crack. “I think the rotation has gone well. I'm learning so much . . .”

  She threw her hands up again, signaling me to stop talking. “Be that as it may, Owen, Dr. Humphries, has very kindly offered to give you some additional assistance. So I suggest you take him up on it.” She turned to look at him. “Perhaps you could speak with Madison this afternoon after final rounds and make some plans?”

  He nodded, pretending to be the overworked but keen resident, happy to help out the green youngster.

  “Great.” Dr. Olsen stood, gathered some charts and herded us out of the room. “You have two weeks left until the final evaluation.”

  I walked away from Owen before he could even open his slimy mouth. The lying, manipulative pig!

  I actually walked to the entrance of the hospital and stood there considering whether I should just leave. I wasn't sure I could face it. The other men had used drugs and a camera to nearly destroy me, and now this creep was going to use his authority to bring me to heel.

  I walked outside to try to breathe. I sat on a bench, the same bench I had waited for Liam on. I remembered everything wonderful about him, and I briefly felt warmer and a little better. Before I could stop myself, I texted him, “I need help with Owen. Please write back.” I waited for ten minutes, trying not to stare at the phone.

  Eventually, an icy blast of freezing wet rain slapped me in the face and brought me back to reality. Liam was an asshole, just like all the rest of them. And at that moment, I hated him most of all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Because I wanted the afternoon to drag on forever, it flew by. Before I could really make any sort of survival plan, rounds were over and it was time to meet up with Owen.

  He was waiting by the locker rooms.

  “I thought maybe we'd eat.” It was an order, not a question.

  I had my coat halfway on, so I started removing it. I thought we were going to the cafeteria and I was relieved. What could he do with a bunch of witnesses around?

  But that wasn't the plan. “Not in this dump. I want some real food. Let's go.” He held his arm out, leading the way to the parkade.

  “I can't go far,” I told him. “As you know, I need to do a lot of extra studying, so I can't afford to waste time on dinner.” I tried to keep the venom out of my voice, but I don't think I was too successful.

  “Tonight you're studying with me, so you can spare the time.” He put his hand against the small of my back and pushed me along. I sidestepped to get away from him. “We could head to my place if you want,” he offered.

  “No. Someplace public will be fine. Let's skip food and just go to the library.” I almost added, “To get this over with”, but fortunately my internal sensors were working at least a little.

  “Nope, we're eating.”

  That was that. We walked to the parkade and got in his car. I suppose I was supposed to ooh and ahh over it, but seriously guys, enough with the cars. Ditch the fancy wheels and get a decent personality instead.

  We went to a restaurant I had never heard of. I was underdressed and uncomfortable. He ordered wine and tried to flirt.

  I asked him question after question about medicine. At first he enjoyed the attention and the chance to show off. But as he tried to turn the conversation to more personal matters and I con
tinued with my evasive medical quiz, he became increasingly annoyed. The wine he was drinking didn't help.

  He worked his way through three courses while I played with a cup of soup. There was a lump in my throat, and my stomach churned with acid.

  “Let's share a dessert.” He was trying to prolong the evening. “Girls like chocolate, right?” He didn't wait for my response. The waitress came over and he said, “We'll have the mousse. Two spoons.”

  “One spoon,” I countered. “I don't like chocolate.” Which is actually true, but even if chocolate was my nirvana I wouldn't have touched that dessert.

  I looked up at the waitress, “And maybe you could call me a cab when you have a second?”

  “I'm taking you home,” he commanded.

  “You're not taking anybody home,” I said. “You've had a bottle and a half of wine.”

  His face got red and his hands clenched the tablecloth. “I'm driving us . . .”

  Before he could finish, the waitress interrupted. “We're not allowed to let anyone drive if they're intoxicated. It's the law.” She touched me on the shoulder. “So, I'll just call for two cabs, then.” We made eye contact and I felt a brief warm flash of sisterly solidarity. Then she left to make the calls and get the mousse.

  The dessert was eaten and the bill taken care of. I let Owen pay for my soup. I left the waitress a big tip.

  We got our coats and waited outside on the sidewalk for the cabs. We didn't speak. I was relieved. Owen said only, “Bitch,” and I didn't know if he meant the waitress or me. It didn't matter, really. I knew I'd be the one to pay for it. I knew there was going to be a huge price to pay for my insubordination. But at that moment, when the cab pulled up and I got in, alone, what I felt was the pure pleasure of safety and escape.