Playing With The Doctor: A Romantic Comedy: Milestone Mischief #1

by Piper James

  Oh, God. My vision turned red as I imagined some stranger drugging her and using her beautiful body callously before tossing her in the street.

  “I’m fine,” Jessa said, then started to laugh as if those two words were the funniest she’d ever heard.

  “Do you know who did this? Would you recognize him if you saw him again?” I asked.

  Was it the guy from the coffee shop?

  “Nope,” Jessa said, answering my spoken question before settling back against the pillow with a smile.

  “Yes,” Felicia said. “He and his buddies came to sit with us, but the guy, Hunter was his name, got a little handsy with Jessa, so Karly beaned him in the head with her shoe.”

  I inhaled sharply as her words hit me in the gut. Jessa, accepting drinks from a stranger. Jessa, getting pawed by said stranger against her will. Kicking and clawing. Screaming for help.

  Or even worse, being rendered incapacitated by a roofie and not being able to fight at all.

  “Yeah, and when he got mouthy, Felicia tased him,” Karly said, pulling me from my dark thoughts.

  My eyes flew to the black-haired beauty, who gave me one firm nod.

  “Nice,” I mumbled, making her smile.

  “I had two more shots after that,” Jessa called out, still giggling. “Or was it three? Yep, I’m, uh, pretty sure it was three.”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and called the hospital lab. I verified they received a sample of Jessa’s blood and asked them to put a rush on it. The lab tech assured me I’d have the results within the hour, so I thanked her and shoved my phone back into my pocket.

  “Jessa, I need to examine you,” I said, my voice calm and my movements slow and measured.

  “Oh, you want to play doctor again?” she asked, her voice more caustic than I’d ever heard it. “You want to give me a physical, Dr. Walton?”

  She must’ve already told her friends about our game, because they neither flinched nor laughed in surprise. Felicia shook her head, and Karly begged Jessa to be good in a frantic whisper.

  Ignoring her outburst, I took her temperature and her blood pressure, then tested her reflexes. Then, taking a deep breath, I slid my stethoscope on and placed the diaphragm against her chest. Her heart was beating too fast, but I couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or my proximity.

  I hated how much I hoped it was the latter.

  “We’re going to hit the ladies’ room,” one of the girls said—I wasn’t sure which, since I was wholly focused on Jessa.

  “I can’t believe they left me here alone with you,” she mumbled after the door closed behind them.

  “Tell me what you’re feeling,” I said, attempting to keep this examination as professional as possible.

  “I’m feeling hurt,” she said. But before I could panic and search for possible injuries, she went on. “You cut things off between us without a word. I know I’m not some great catch, but I thought we were having fun. At least, I was. Maybe too much fun.”

  “Jessa, I meant—”

  “And I’m pissed. I opened myself up to you, Rafe. I participated in that whole video-sex-thing and really put myself out there, then—bam. You disappeared without so much as a fuck you very much.”

  Shit. I’d been trying to ascertain her symptoms with my question, and obviously talkativeness and lowered inhibitions are high up on that list.

  It had not been my intention to use her current mental and physical state to my advantage and glean this much insight into her true feelings. But she’d said the words. They were out there, and there was nothing I could do about it now.

  “What are your symptoms, Jessa?” I asked, trying again. “Nausea? Dizziness?”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding. “And I miss you.”

  She barely muttered those last four words, but she may as well have screamed them. I actually staggered back a step as my own heart started pounding.

  Isn’t she seeing someone new? I saw her…in the coffee shop. Laughing. Practically glowing.

  “I miss us,” she murmured.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but a knock on the door cut off whatever I was about to say. A nurse bustled in with a tablet, handed it to me, and walked back out without saying a word. I turned my eyes to the words on the screen, trying like hell to make sense of them when my brain was focused on Jessa’s words.

  I wanted to wrap her in my arms and never let go. And the scariest part was that the thought of forever didn’t scare me. At all.

  I took a deep breath, and my thoughts focused, pushing all the emotional stuff aside for a moment. Her blood alcohol level was on the high end, but there was no trace of any kind of drugs. I released the breath I’d been holding, and some of the tension drained from my body.

  “What? What is it?” Jessa slurred.

  “You just drank too much.”

  “Duh,” she muttered. “Told you I was a lightweight.”

  “He could have drugged you, Jessa,” I growled, unable to stop the words from spilling out.

  “Well, he didn’t,” she snarled.

  She was getting belligerent, and her anger fed mine, making me lash out from a place of fear and regret. I couldn’t stop myself, even though I knew it was a bad idea.

  “No, I don’t think you do. Why in the hell would you drink something from a stranger, Jessa? You’re a bartender, for God’s sake. You should know better than anyone about shit like this.”

  “I made a mistake!” she yelled. Then her voice dropped, her brown eyes turned sad, and she added, “More than one, it seems like.”

  My anger dissipated, leaving nothing but the fear and regret. I wanted to beg her not to say that. To climb into that bed with her and hold her close to me. To tell her everything was going to be okay, and that I would always be there for her.

  But I didn’t do any of those things. Karly and Felicia returned to the exam room. I told them we were going to give Jessa a bag of fluids intravenously, and a nurse would be by with care instructions when they could take her home.

  Then I left the room and didn’t go back in.

  I needed to tell Jessa how I felt, but I refused to do it when she was drunk. And I needed to ask her about the guy I saw her with the other morning.

  Tomorrow. I would give her some time to rest and recover, then I would talk to her tomorrow.

  34

  Jessa

  The first thing I felt was the trio of jackhammers splitting my skull open from the inside out. I groaned in response, but the effort only made the pain worse. I wanted to open my eyes, but my eyelids weighed a thousand pounds each, and I simply didn’t have the strength to lift them.

  Maybe I should just go back to sleep and try again later.

  The idea sounded like the best I’d ever had, so I tried to relax my muscles and breathe my way through the throbbing in my head. Why did it hurt so badly? My memory was blurry and trying to force the issue only made my head hurt worse.

  I inhaled deeply, and my eyes popped open of their own accord as a rancid smell assaulted my nostrils. My tear-blurred vision was filled with orange and white fur, and I reared back, sending a fresh wave of pain through the base of my skull.

  “Jesus, Butthead,” I hissed, pushing the cat off the bed. He landed, his paws thudding against the carpet, and turned to twitch his whiskers at me in disgust. “Oh, no. You don’t get to be mad at me, buddy. You farted in my face.”

  My bedroom door opened, and he sauntered out as Karly poked her head in and smiled.

  “Oh, good. You’re up,” she said, swinging the door the rest of the way open before looking over her shoulder. “She’s awake.”

  Karly stepped inside, and Felicia crowded in behind her. My face scrunched up as I tried to figure out what they could possibly be doing in my house this early—what time was it anyway? I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and checked the time. It was nearly noon.

  “How are you feeling?” Karly asked, handing me a cold glass of orange juice and two aspirin.

/>   I thanked her with a nod, popped the pills, and chased them down with half the orange juice. The cold liquid intensified my headache, and I closed my eyes tightly against the pain.

  “That good, huh?” Felicia asked.

  The mattress dipped near my feet, and I cracked open one eye to see her making herself comfortable. Karly moved around to the other side of the bed and perched there. I took a few deep breaths and forced myself to relax. As the pain ebbed to its original horrendous level, I opened both eyes to look at them.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I asked. “And…why does my head feel like it’s trying to implode?”

  “We stayed the night,” Karly said softly, “on the couch.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “What do you remember about last night?” Felicia countered.

  I stared at her with a vacant gaze as I tried to remember. I blinked a few times as details trickled into focus.

  “We went to The Strawberry Patch,” I murmured. “Dancing, drinks, blowing off steam.”

  Felicia nodded. “What else?”

  “Did I drink too much?” I asked, trying to figure out why I felt like hell warmed over. I didn’t remember drinking a lot, but alcohol had a way of fogging the memory.

  “You could say that,” Karly said.

  Looking at her triggered another memory. “Did you hit someone in the face with your shoe?”

  “Hunter,” she said, nodding.

  Hunter. Shots of tequila. Joining us at our table. Getting too handsy. Karly’s shoe flying toward his face.

  The hospital.

  “Oh, my God,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I did drink too much, didn’t I?”

  “Yep,” Felicia said.

  He could have drugged you, Jessa.

  My eyes flew open as that deep voice reverberated in my mind. I looked from Karly to Felicia, more of the pieces falling into place as my memory cleared.

  “You took me to Rafe?” I asked, my tone making it sound more like an accusation than a request for clarification.

  “We took you to the hospital,” Felicia corrected. “We didn’t know if he’d be there—nor did we care. All that mattered was getting you some medical attention.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, hearing the worry in her voice. “I was stupid. I know I shouldn’t drink that much. I should know better.”

  And it seems to be happening a lot lately.

  This was the third time I’d gotten drunk since coming back to Milestone. I needed to be more careful. Or stop drinking completely.

  “Everyone makes mistakes,” Karly said softly. “We’re just glad you’re okay. They gave you some fluids and let us bring you home, and we decided to stay just in case you needed us…with your dad being sick and all.”

  “Thank you,” I said, then turned my gaze to Felicia and repeated the words.

  “Don’t mention it,” Felicia said, smiling softly.

  “What you can mention is why you never told us how hot your dad is,” Karly said, bouncing on the mattress.

  “What?” I asked, feeling simultaneous urges to flinch and laugh.

  “He’s a fox,” she said, licking her lips. “A silver fox.”

  “Stop,” I groaned, closing my eyes.

  “He walked into the living room this morning in gray sweatpants and asked us who the hell we were and why we were in his house,” Felicia added, and I could hear the smirk in her voice.

  “Don’t,” I said, cupping my hands over my ears.

  “Gray sweatpants, Jessa,” Karly said, practically moaning.

  “We told him we’re your best friends, and his smile nearly melted my panties,” Felicia said.

  “Oh, my God.” They both started laughing, and my eyes popped open to give them both death-glares. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

  “We’re joking,” Karly said, then ruined it by adding, “mostly.”

  “He is hot, for an older dude—” Felicia started.

  “—and he was wearing sweatpants,” Karly cut in.

  “—but no, we’re not hot for him,” Felicia finished. Then she chuckled. “The look on your face was classic.”

  “Bitches,” I mumbled, making them laugh.

  “We love you, too,” Karly said.

  “And we’re glad you’re okay,” Felicia added.

  “Thank you for taking care of me,” I said, suddenly feeling a little weepy.

  Though I hadn’t been friends with them for very long, these two women meant the world to me. And I could tell they felt the same about me. They’d filled a hole in my heart I hadn’t even known existed.

  “Any time,” Karly said, standing up. “Are you going to be okay?”

  I nodded. “I think so.”

  “Okay, good,” she said, “because I really need to get home and shower.”

  I smiled, noticing for the first time her wrinkled clothes and smeared eyeliner. I was sure I looked worse. A shower sounded heavenly.

  “We’ll call you later, okay?” Felicia asked, rising to her own feet.

  “Sounds good,” I said. “And thanks again. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” she murmured, shot me a wink, and whirled around in a cloud of black hair.

  Karly fluffed her now-frizzy red curls and shuffled toward the door. Midway, she stopped and spun back around.

  “Drink lots of fluids and get plenty of rest today. Doctor’s orders.”

  I stayed in bed long after they left, trying to piece together my spotty memories. Our time at the club was fuzzy, but I felt like I remembered most of it. I had no memory at all of how I got to the emergency room, but I do vaguely remember lying on the bed while Rafe yelled at me.

  Why in the hell would you drink something from a stranger, Jessa? You’re a bartender, for God’s sake. You should know better than anyone about shit like this.

  I flinched at the memory—the disappointment in his expression and the censure in his voice. I couldn’t remember what I said in response or anything he may have said after that. But my gut told me it wasn’t good.

  If I hadn’t already lost him, this would’ve sealed our fate.

  As I got up and dragged myself to the bathroom, some rational part of my brain argued that what happened last night was not that big of a deal. People got drunk all the time. Karly and Felicia had overreacted, rushing me to the emergency room like that.

  But still, I felt guilty for not being more vigilant. Rafe was right about that—I was a bartender, and I should’ve known better. I’d just been so intent on having fun and forgetting about a certain sexy doctor that I’d lost my good sense.

  I stepped under the hot water spraying from the shower head, my body slumping as the heat relaxed muscles I hadn’t even realized were sore. I washed my hair twice and scrubbed every inch of my body until my skin was raw.

  By the time I turned off the water, my skin was pink, my fingers were pruned, and my mind was clear.

  I knew what I had to do.

  “You’re leaving?”

  The disappointment on my father’s face nearly broke me, but I steeled my spine. I’d made the decision, and it was the right one. I was sure of it.

  Or, at least, seventy-five percent sure. Sixty percent. Okay, there was a fifty-fifty chance I was making the wrong choice, but it was a chance I needed to take.

  “You’re doing much better, Dad,” I said lamely.

  “I just got out of the hospital yesterday,” he argued. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you feel guilty. I’m going to be fine.”

  I flinched. There was that hated word again.

  Dad smiled at my expression, knowing exactly what it meant. “I’m good, Jessa. I promise. I don’t want you to go, but I’m sure you have your reasons.”

  Reason. Singular.

  “And Janice can handle the bar until I can get back there,” he continued. Then he cocked his head, staring at
me intently. “Just tell me one thing.”

  “What?” I asked, my skin starting to itch under his perusal.

  “Why this sudden urge to go back to Atlanta? There’s nothing waiting for you there but an empty apartment. I know you have friends here—those girls seem delightful. And not to mention the good doctor.”

  A shadow must’ve crossed my features at the mention of Rafe, because Dad’s expression darkened.

  “Oh, I see,” he murmured before spearing me with a hot gaze. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” I shot back, too fast and too defensively. “I mean, yes. I…I don’t know, Dad.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his features softening.

  “Not really,” I said.

  “Should I go beat him up or something? Defend your honor?”

  A half-hearted chuckle tumbled from my lips, and Dad’s smile told me it was the reaction he’d been looking for. I loved him so much. Leaving him now hurt worse than any time I’d left home before.

  Before I lost my resolve completely, I said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  I’d already packed my bag and crated Butthead before meeting Dad in the living room for this conversation. My things waited by the door, and my car keys were clenched tightly in my fist. I darted forward and wrapped my arms around Dad’s waist. He hugged me back, his embrace all warmth and love and safety.

  The little girl in me wanted to stay there forever.

  The grown, hurting woman in me knew I couldn’t.

  “I’ll call you when I get home,” I said, releasing him.

  And I didn’t think the word “home” had ever sounded so hollow.

  35

  Rafe

  Jessa wasn’t answering her phone. I’d called her four times today, leaving messages that got progressively more desperate each time. I’d texted her twice as many times, again with no response. I needed to see her. There were things that needed to be said.