Untouchable (Unexpected Love Book 1)

by Isabel Love

  “You mean to tell me you haven’t done this yet?”

  “I know, you don’t have to point out how I’ve fucked up yet again, okay. I know.”

  “Here’s what you’re going to do.” She crosses her arms.

  “Please, tell me what I should do.” I need someone to tell me how to fix this.

  “You’re going to pull up your big girl panties and set up a meeting with Dr. Finley.”

  Fuck. Logically I know I have to address this with him, but I just don’t want to.

  “In the meantime, review your policy, for fuck’s sake! You may have put yourself and Max through all of this stress for nothing.” She looks at me like she wants to rip my hair out. Hell, I want to rip my hair out, too.

  “Yes, Mom,” I reply.

  “Monica, get out your computer right now.”

  Now? “What?”

  “I know you. Once I leave, you’ll bury yourself under all the pillows in your bed and then drown yourself with work tomorrow. You’ll procrastinate and make yourself suffer even longer than you need to.”

  “I hardly think I’m in any condition to email Dr. Finley right now! I’m drinking!” I hold up my half-filled margarita glass to remind her.

  “‘Dr. Finley, I need to talk with you. What times do you have free this week?’ I think you can manage that in your state of extreme drunkenness.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I grumble. She follows me into my bedroom and stands over my shoulder as I type out the message. Spell check tells me I haven’t made any errors, and Quinn reads it through before I hit send. Correction, she hits send for me.

  Then we eat pizza and drink more margaritas as she tells me what she thinks I should do. “If I were you, I would make a big production out of asking him out at work.”

  “Do you know me at all?” I am not cut out for big scenes anywhere, least of all at work.

  “Well, that’s what his biggest problem is—you hiding your relationship at work. If you let the cat out of the bag with a bang, then he won’t have any doubts about how serious you are. You can’t tell him you’re ready to go public at work and do nothing.”

  She has a point…but still, the thought of doing something like that at work makes me want to vomit. What would I even do? Ask him out over the PA system? That would be stupid…right?

  Then I think of Max. How would he react if I did something like that? He would be shocked. He would love it.

  I sigh. “Keep talking.”

  Max

  I pull up outside Safe Zone and park, feeling a bit anxious. Can I do this? Simone emailed me last week and asked me about doing some activities with the kids as we discussed at the fundraiser. I balked at first, not wanting to do anything that might scare the children, but she reassured me that I wouldn’t be the only adult there, and we could start with something simple, like decorating the parking lot with sidewalk chalk. I am not the best artist, but Simone said the kids love doing it and won’t care if I’m good, just that I’m present. Tate told me she would be participating, too, so I felt better knowing she would be there to tell me if I did something stupid.

  “Hey, Max,” Tate greets.

  It’s Wednesday at four PM and I’m surprised how many of the offices are bustling with activity. The last time I was here was the Saturday I volunteered with Monica, and this hall was pretty quiet that day.

  “Hey. It looks really busy here, you sure you have time to do this with me?”

  “It’s no problem. Let me just finish up here and I’ll go round up the kids. Have a seat.” She motions to the chair in her office.

  I sit down and watch as she types furiously at her computer. She glances up at me, then to her office door as we hear chatter in the hall.

  “Thank you so much for coming on short notice,” I hear Simone saying to someone.

  Then a familiar voice says, “It’s no problem at all, I was happy to stop by. It looks really busy here today.”

  My eyes fly up to Tate. “You didn’t tell me Monica would be here.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know. She isn’t scheduled to be here until next Saturday.” She holds up her hands apologetically.

  The footsteps get closer and then I see her. She glances into Tate’s office as she passes and her eyes land on me. For a second she smiles as if happy to see me, and those hazel eyes touch my face with their power. Then she remembers that we’ve broken up and she schools her expression, though her feet do stop moving.

  I stand up as Simone enters the office. “Hi, Max. Thanks so much for coming by today.”

  “What are you doing here, Max?” Monica asks.

  “He’s going to play with the kids this afternoon. I’m starting a program for the kids to get to spend time with men in a healthy way. I thought Max would be perfect. The kids that met him at the clinic really liked him, especially Lucy.”

  Monica can’t help the smile that spreads across her face, though I see her try. She is so beautiful, it hurts. She turns to look at me, and I bask in the fact that she is directing that smile at me. “I couldn’t agree more.” My chest squeezes with emotion. It means so much to me that she likes this idea. It’s not that I was doing it for her approval—I didn’t even know she would be here—but it means a lot to me that she thinks I’m a good choice.

  “We’re just going to play with sidewalk chalk. How hard could it be?” I shrug and give her a small smile.

  Lucy and her mom Samantha appear in the hall, too, and Lucy looks so much better than the last time I saw her. Her bruises are gone and I see that the cut has healed for the most part, though one section is a bit red and has some steri-strips on it. Big brown eyes look up at me, sparkling, and she gives me a small, shy smile. She’s clutching her mom’s leg with her right arm and I notice she clutches Coconut in her left. I’m a bit nervous to talk to her, but she sees me and doesn’t cower away like she did the last time.

  I crouch down to her level. “Hi, Lucy. Do you remember me?”

  “You’re Max.”

  I smile at her and nod. “Are you ready to teach me how to draw with sidewalk chalk?”

  “Me, teach you?” Her eyes get wide.

  “Yep. I’ve never played with sidewalk chalk before,” I admit.

  “You haven’t?” She’s shocked.

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “It’s easy, you’ll see. I’m going to draw Coconut.” She holds up the stuffed animal.

  I laugh. “Wow, I don’t know if I can make something that complicated. I thought I’d start off with something easy, like the sun.” How hard can that be, right? Even I can make a big yellow circle. Everyone chuckles at my ambition.

  “Dr. Morgan, are you going to play with us, too?” Lucy looks up at Monica.

  “Oh, honey, I don’t think Dr. Morgan is here for that. She stopped by to check your face, but she has to go back to work now,” Samantha explains, running her fingers through her daughter’s hair.

  “But, Dr. Morgan, you and Max were a team last time you were here. I thought you would work as a team today, too.” This sweet little girl might make me cry. We were a team.

  What I wouldn’t give to be on Monica’s team again, just me and her, working, laughing, living.

  The room has gone silent and I watch Monica process this. She looks at me and actually shows me how she feels. I see longing in her eyes—longing and regret. I want to pull her into my arms so badly right now.

  “You don’t have to stay,” I tell her quietly though in my mind I think, please stay. I want to spend more time with you even if it’s playing with sidewalk chalk with a bunch of kids.

  “Please, Dr. Morgan?” Lucy pleads with big puppy dog eyes.

  “You know what, I’d love to stay and play with you guys.” She smiles down at Lucy.

  After Tate makes the rounds, eight kids end up joining her, Monica, and me in the parking lot. Some moms linger at a nearby picnic table, some choose to participate. We make the parking lot so colorful, and the kids love it. Rainbows, fl
owers, suns, stars, lightning bolts and some unidentifiable objects decorate various sections of the asphalt. Then Lucy decides she wants to trace me. She has me lie down on the ground and traces all around my body. Then another little boy wants to do the same thing. Soon enough, all the adults are instructed to lie down while the little ones trace their outlines in chalk. Monica is instructed by Lucy to lie down right next to me, and I’m beginning to feel like Lucy knows I’m desperate to spend more time with Monica and is on my side. I can’t help but look over at her while Lucy gets to work. Chalk is on her face and all over her black pants, and the sunlight picks up different shades of brown in her hair. She closes her eyes as she lies back and smiles at something Lucy says to her.

  My insides ache for her to be mine again.

  She must feel my stare because she opens her eyes and meets my gaze. After a beat, she smiles at me.

  I feel a spark of hope light up inside me, hope that she still loves me, that she wants everything with me, just like I want everything with her.

  I want to kill this feeling of hope.

  I want to stomp it out.

  Because I can’t think she wants me back only to be disappointed. It would hurt so bad for her to tell me she wants me and then hide me away again.

  I close my eyes so I don’t have to see how beautiful she is, but it’s no use.

  Even with my eyes closed, her smile is all I see.

  It’s Max.

  Monica

  My thoughts are racing and bouncing all over the place. I imagine telling him everything. I would tell him so many things.

  I have a meeting scheduled with Dr. Finley tomorrow and even though I’m scared shitless, I’m ready to fight for us.

  Quinn and I concocted a stupid plan for me to prove to you that I don’t care what anyone thinks about us being together.

  I miss you.

  I love you.

  I want everything with you.

  Do you still want everything with me?

  I can’t bear to be apart from him now that I’ve decided I will do anything I can to get him back. Seeing him here at Safe Zone, letting little kids climb all over him with chalk makes me love him even more.

  Lucy pulls him up from lying on the ground and shows him his shape outlined in blue chalk. He laughs at something she says and the sound of his laughter makes me shiver. He’s so gorgeous and kind.

  And god, he’s so sexy. How does he make a t-shirt and athletic pants look so good?

  He looks over and catches me staring at him. I can’t help but smile.

  Then Lucy pulls me up and tells me to look at what she’s drawn. I see Max’s shape right next to mine. The outlines of bodies on the ground kind of look like we’re at a crime scene, except I love the way our shapes look right next to each other.

  Once we are done with play time, Tate and the moms usher the kids back inside and we clean up. I see that most of the pieces of chalk have been worn down to little nubs and make a mental note to buy some more. Simone was right—the kids loved it.

  We bring the supplies back inside and Tate shows us to the staff room so we can wash our hands.

  “That went well,” Tate says.

  “It was easier than I thought,” Max tells her.

  “Are you on for next week? I thought we might play board games.”

  “Count me in,” he confirms.

  “What about you, Monica?” Tate asks innocently.

  “Isn’t this about the kids spending more time with men?”

  “It is, but feel free to join us. It seemed like you were having fun today.”

  “I had a great time. They are amazing kids.”

  She gives me a sad smile. “Yes, they are.” She puts the containers of chalk away. “I have to finish up a few things before I can go. I’ll see you guys later.” She gives us each a brief hug and waves goodbye.

  Then it’s just me and Max. The air seems to thicken and I’m hyper aware of how close we’re standing. I get a damp paper towel and do my best to brush the chalk off my black pants, but it’s futile to try to get it all.

  “That was definitely messier than I thought it would be,” I remark.

  He chuckles. “You have a bit right here.” He points to his cheek.

  I swipe at my cheek, embarrassed that I had no idea there was chalk on my face. “Did I get it?”

  “Not quite.” He points up a bit higher.

  I broaden the area I’m trying to swipe, wishing I had a mirror.

  “Here, let me.” He steps into my personal space, takes the paper towel from me, and gently wipes my skin. I freeze, looking up into his amazingly blue eyes. This is the first time he’s touched me in 10 days and even though it’s only with a paper towel and it’s only to wipe chalk off me, I’m having a hard time breathing. I want him to keep touching me. He studies my face and after wiping the spot on my cheek, he trails his finger down the side of my face.

  Please kiss me. I need you. I miss you.

  “There. All gone.” He steps away.

  Disappointment courses through me, and I bring my hand up to touch the spot he just touched.

  “Max.” I’m going to tell him everything, right now.

  But he doesn’t give me a chance, saying, “I’m going to head out.” He turns and heads for the door.

  “Can I walk with you?” I need more time with him.

  “Okay,” he says, unsure.

  He waits by the exit as I get my purse from Tate’s office then we step into the parking lot and walk toward my car. I take slow steps so I can find my courage and my words, but the silence is tense and awkward between us. My thoughts turn into a traffic jam, no one particular thing making its way to my mouth. We reach my car in what seems like seconds and I’ve run out of time.

  “Have a good night,” he says as I unlock my car with the key fob.

  “Max, wait.” I can’t let him walk away from me.

  He stops but doesn’t turn back around to face me.

  “Are you working tomorrow?” Please turn around. Please tell me you miss me as much as I miss you.

  “Yes,” he answers and continues to walk away. “See you then.”

  Fuck. He’s slipping away and I’m losing my nerve, but maybe it’s better this way. I’ll just talk with him tomorrow when I can tell him that I’ve met with Dr. Finley.

  “Okay. See you tomorrow.” It’s better this way, I repeat to myself.

  I just wish I could have told him everything tonight.

  This is it, I think as I get ready to head into work. I’m finally going to get some answers. I reviewed the company’s policy on dating co-workers, but it was very vague, and nothing dealt with doctors and nurses or directors and the employees under them in specific. I really need to just suck it up and talk with Dr. Finley.

  He was only available today, which happened to be my day off, but that’s okay—I’m glad don’t have to see patients before or after talking to him. I’m a nervous wreck as it is.

  I towel off my hair and grab my phone to check the time. I need to be there at nine AM, and I want to give myself plenty of time to get there. My bladder tends to get nervous right along with me and I always have to pee when I get like this, so I want to build in some time for bathroom stops.

  As I wake up my phone, I see eight missed phone calls.

  Huh. I was only in the shower for 15, maybe 20 minutes, and usually, no one ever calls me.

  That’s strange.

  I click on the missed calls notification to see who called. There are several calls from a back line at the ER, and then the last four are from Tony Rosetti.

  Why is work calling me? I’m not scheduled to be at work today.

  My stomach sinks.

  I’m about to listen to the voicemail when the phone starts to ring in my hand. Tony Rosetti’s name flashes across my screen.

  Dread crawls across my skin as I swipe the green bar to answer the call. “Hello?”

  “Oh, thank god you answered! I’ve been trying to get a
hold of you.” His voice is all business.

  “Sorry, I was in the shower. What’s going on, Tony?”

  “I know you’re not scheduled to be here today, but are you able to come in?” His voice sounds strained.

  “I’m actually headed there for a meeting. I’m supposed to be there at nine. What’s going on?” I repeat the question.

  “It’s Max.”

  My heart stops. “What about Max?”

  “He just got here in an ambulance. It looks like he was riding his bike and was hit by an SUV,” he tells me, his voice grave.

  No.

  No, no, no, no, no.

  This can’t be happening.

  Panic paralyzes me and my ears begin to ring. I notice a faint buzzing sound in the edge of my awareness then realize Tony is still talking to me. “He’s unconscious and they’re prepping him for surgery. We just called his mother but I wanted to let you know.”

  The words float around just outside my comprehension.

  It’s Max.

  Riding his bike.

  Hit by an SUV.

  Unconscious.

  Surgery.

  This can’t be happening.

  “Monica,” Tony’s voice rises on the other end.

  “Yes,” I barely get out.

  “Listen to me, we’re doing everything we can. Just be safe and get here soon, okay?” With that, he hangs up.

  The thing is…I love him.

  Monica

  When I got the call that my mom had been in an accident, I was 19 years old and Quinn helped me get home. I have no recollection of getting on a plane, traveling from Ohio to Illinois, or waiting for someone to come find me in the ER waiting room. My dad worked at the hospital she was in, so he was already in the back, not directing her care, but one of the staff. Quinn sat with me in the private waiting room they had for families with my mom’s parents. I remember sitting there, unable to comprehend that she might die. She had just left me a voicemail that same day and I kept playing it over and over again. How could a life end so quickly, especially one with so much life left to live?