by Webster, K
I try to scowl at my brother, but it hurts my head. It’s annoying sometimes that I have to share my senior year with him. Had he not failed the eighth grade, I could deal with this on my own.
“I got her a Sprite,” a girl named Penny says, kneeling beside Landon. But despite my brother being a football hero at our school, her eyes are all for Neil. Gross. Luckily, he ignores her.
They help me sip on the cold drink, but all it does is make my stomach churn. The last thing I want to do is get sick all over my teacher in English class with all the students watching.
“How long was I out?” I ask, blinking away another wave of dizziness.
“Fifteen minutes,” Neil says.
A cold sweat washes over me. Fifteen minutes?! Everyone just stared at me for fifteen minutes while I was passed out. Oh my God. I want to crawl into a hole and die.
“EMT is here,” someone calls out.
Commotion can be heard as two men roll into the room with a stretcher. My skin burns with embarrassment as the whole freaking class and two EMTs work together to get me situated on the stretcher. As the men assess me while simultaneously strapping me in, I can’t help but cringe. This is all a big deal over a bumped head. When Principal Renner shows up, a worried frown on his face, I decide I’d rather just die in this moment. Rather than facing all the curious stares, I close my eyes. By the time I get inside the ambulance, I don’t feel any less stressed. With Landon fretting at my side and Dad rushing to get home, I can’t help but worry this is all about to get worse.
Landon’s fingers fly over his phone as he texts and I focus on the softly murmured words of the EMT as he checks my vitals. By the time we arrive at the hospital and they pull me out, I feel good enough I could just leave.
But no one is letting me leave. The EMT wears a concerned frown as he pushes the stretcher into the ER. He says some things to a couple of nurses and instructs Landon where he can wait for me.
I’m pushed into the same room I visited when I got sick a couple of weeks ago. Great. History is repeating itself. Hopefully I don’t have to deal with the same doctor. Heat floods through me. He was so hot and it was so freaking embarrassing.
The nurses take over once they get me transferred to a bed and a familiar Asian nurse worries over my head. She cleans it but doesn’t stitch it up.
“Dr. Venable will want to take a look at this. Sit tight. He’ll be right in.”
I groan as I wait for the good-looking doctor who made me feel like crap last time. He’ll pressure me into more tests—tests I don’t want to have done.
The curtain is wrenched open, revealing Mr. Sex in Scrubs. My thighs clench because he’s too hot to be a doctor. It’s unfair. Upon seeing me, his neutral expression darkens. His brows furl over his intense green eyes and his full lips press into a firm line.
“You’re back,” he says. His deep, gravelly voice flitters over my nerve endings, making me squirm.
“Thought you’d be bored and would need something to do,” I sass, irritated that he seems irritated.
His jaw clenches as he approaches. Like before, his gaze scrutinizes my features. When his finger reaches up to push away a strand of hair from my eyes, I tense. He mistakes it for pain because he frowns.
“Your head hurts where you hit it?” he asks as his gloved hands ghost over the cut flesh.
“It’s okay.”
“Either you have a high pain tolerance or you’re skilled at evading,” he grumbles.
My eyebrows lift in surprise at his gruff tone. “Do I need stitches?”
“You do. But don’t worry, I’ve been doing this for a long time. It won’t leave a scar.”
His confidence has me relaxing. This seems to soften his edge because he flashes me a small smile. “Don’t go running off yet, Cinderella.” He starts to leave.
“I’m sure you’d just chase me and wrangle me back into this bed,” I say with a pout.
He jerks his head my way and scowls. It isn’t until he leaves that I realize my words could be misconstrued. Images of the sexy doctor pinning me down in bed and taking my virginity are too hot and inappropriate for the ER.
When he returns, his features are impassive. He’s quiet as he sets up his supplies to stitch me up. Any time Landon went to the emergency room over football injuries, the nurses always stitched him up. Getting special treatment from the hot doctor sends a thrill shooting through me.
“Fainting is one way to skip out of class,” he murmurs as he begins stitching my wound closed. I sense he’s trying to distract me, so I take the bait.
“Mr. Hanks is my dad’s friend. No one wants to hang out with their dad’s best friend and talk about archetypes in literature.”
Dr. Venable smiles at me, revealing bright white teeth. He’s handsome enough to be in one of those dental commercials. I wonder if I licked his teeth if they’d taste minty. Biting on my bottom lip, I try to hush the dirty thoughts I have running through my head.
“I guess hanging out in triage arguing with me is much more entertaining,” he says with a chuckle. The sound of it—deep and throaty—vibrates down to my core.
“Are you flirting with me, Doc?”
He stiffens and the scowl from earlier is back. “Tell me how you fainted,” he orders, all playfulness gone from his features. “What led up to it? How did you feel?”
“I probably just fell asleep because it was so boring,” I grumble. “Or maybe it’s an April Fool’s joke for my teacher.”
This man doesn’t buy my lies for a second. He continues his task, his hot glare burning me into the bed. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. I wonder what the yummy doctor tastes like. His dark brown hair is tousled like he rolled out of bed that way. The gel in it screams that he was going for the effortless look in the first place. I want to reach my fingers up and ruffle through it, messing it up. The scruff on his cheeks is trimmed low and I wonder what it’d feel like to kiss someone with facial hair. Every guy I’ve kissed has been baby-faced and smelled like Red Bull.
Dr. Venable smells like expensive, manly cologne. Like he doesn’t belong in the same realm as those guys I go to school with. I bet he doesn’t kiss with a one-track mind to feel my tits up either. He looks like the kind of guy who’d take his time worshiping every inch of flesh.
“I’ll take the stitches out in a couple of weeks,” he tells me as he cleans up his mess. “Don’t mess with it until then.”
“Great, thanks. Can I go now?”
His green eyes flicker. “Nope. I’m ordering a CT scan since you hit your head. Don’t fight me on this one, Lauren.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I frown, but the pulling on my stitches stops me. “Fine.”
He winks at me before exiting the room. That one simple wink turned me into a sweltering ball of flames.
For the next hour, I let Dr. Venable send me to radiology to get the head scan. The woman running the machine is nice and talkative. It makes my head hurt worse. I’m dying to get the hell out of here.
As soon as I’m back in bed, Dr. Venable storms back in, wearing a frown.
“What is it?” I demand.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Scan looks great.”
I scoff at him. “So disappointed, aren’t you, Doc?”
“Daniel.”
His name on his lips sounds erotic and enticing. Only I would crush over a doctor old enough to be my dad and who is infuriatingly persistent in an area I’d rather forget. My health.
“Okay, Dr. Dan,” I bite out. “Why do you seem so unhappy about my head being fine?”
He winces at my words. “I’m not unhappy, I’m annoyed.”
The nerve. He’s supposed to be a doctor!
“What?” I hiss out, trying desperately to hide my hurt.
His features soften as he sits beside me. “I’m annoyed because now I have to argue with you.”
“You could let me win.”
He tilts his head up toward the ceiling as though he’s praying. “Y
our health isn’t a game.” He brings his chin down, his green eyes boring into me. “I want to run some tests. You’re already here.” His head nods at the machines. “Blood pressure is high again. How’s your abdomen?”
Oh, hell no. Not falling for this.
“Great,” I lie.
His sharp jawline muscles flex as he clenches his teeth. “I could hold you here until your father arrives.”
Rather than wincing because I know it’ll be easy to convince Dad, I lift my chin and meet Daniel’s glare with one of my own. “I was having period pains. Got lightheaded and passed out. I should have eaten more for lunch. My head hurts, but you stitched me right up. I’m ready to go home now.”
Our eyes lock in a silent, heated battle.
In the end, I win because he gives me a clipped nod and storms from the room.
So why does it feel like a loss?
Daniel
I’m a stalker. A fucking creep. But I ignore those thoughts as I scroll through Instagram on my quest for answers. It’s been nearly a month since I discharged Lauren Englewood into her brother’s care after she’d hit her head hard enough to need fourteen stitches. And less than a month since she came in unannounced to have them removed. My mind drifts to the day I took the stitches out.
“You look like you’re feeling well today,” I mutter as I tower over her, plucking at the stitches with my scissors.
She looks better than well.
I’d gaped like some kind of pervert when she came waltzing into the ER like she owned it moments before. Unlike the other two times I’d seen her, she was dressed and made up. Big brown eyes are more striking with her eyeliner and mascara. Her pouty lips are redder than I’ve seen them thanks to lipstick. It’s her attitude that’s different. More fiery than normal.
“I’m feeling great,” she tells me. “I have a date.”
She crosses her legs and my eyes drop to the way her black dress slides higher up her creamy thighs. My cock reacts and I want to slap the shit out of myself. I’m not Morris. I don’t get aroused at work.
“A date, huh?” I grumble as I pull at a loose thread. “Who’s the lucky bastard?”
Her lips curl into a wide grin that lights up her whole face. “You almost sound jealous, Dr. Dan.”
I glower at her. “You’re a kid. Hardly.”
“I’m not a kid,” she bites back. “And his name is Rex.”
“Rex sounds like a prick. Be careful.”
She laughs, the sound sweet and sexy all at once. “You are jealous!”
“I have a daughter your age,” I grumble. “Call it fatherly instinct to protect.”
“I won’t call you Daddy, Doc. I already have one of those.”
I jerk my hand back to glare at her. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” Her big brown eyes widen, feigning innocence. When she bites on her bottom lip, I have such an intense urge to kiss her, I have to physically take a step back so I don’t act on my desires.
“Besides your head, how are you feeling?” I ask, changing the subject.
She tenses and looks at her hands in her lap. “Fine.”
So help me if she says that word again, I’m going to kill her.
“Liar.”
Her head snaps up and sadness flickers in her brown eyes. “I feel great right now. That’s not a lie, Dr. Dan.”
She uncrosses her legs only to cross them again. My eyes are drawn to the action, only maddening me further. Her fingertips toy with the hem of her dress. I can’t tear my eyes from her smooth thighs and my dick is thickening, which is an annoying problem in these scrubs. As though she can see right into my head, her brown eyes skim lazily over me from head to toe. She pauses at my crotch area, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Don’t worry,” she tells me as she stands. “I’ll keep my virginity intact.”
Fucking hell.
I step toward her and brush my thumb along the pink flesh of her skin. “Keep this clean and the pink will fade after a few months.” I linger with my thumb running along her forehead, unable to let her go.
Her fingers flutter over the front of my chest, making me groan in response. “Any other doctor’s orders?”
“Yeah,” I grumble, “don’t go on this date with Rex.”
She smiles wide. “And why not?”
“Because I said so.” My palm slides to the side of her throat and I check her pulse. “You should rest.” I pull my hand back before I do something stupid like slide it down further to her breasts. “I have other patients to see.”
Disappointment floods her features and I hate that I put it there.
“Here’s to hoping I don’t ever see you again,” I tell her like the asshole I am.
It’s the truth, though.
I don’t want this beautiful, sassy woman to be hurting or sick. And every time I see her, I can’t help but get the sense that something truly is wrong. Something she won’t allow me to look into.
My phone buzzes with a text from my daughter, jerking me from the past.
Jenna: Enzo and I are going to see Cora at Patty’s. Talk soon.
I smile as I reread the text. Jenna is in the process of trying to adopt her old foster sister. I’m proud of her. Anyone can see those two are meant to be together. I’m just happy I have Jenna in my life to be able to help her in any way I can. I’ve tried to make up for lost time by giving her my attention, buying her the things she needs, and simply being there for her when she needs to talk. As much as I want to rewind time to her birth and raise her with as much love as I can, life doesn’t work that way. I got my daughter, but she was already a grown-ass woman with her own agendas. All I can do is allow her the space she needs to make her own life decisions without me meddling.
Now that I know I’m alone, I relax as I continue my task. Stalking Lauren Englewood. Her IG is full of lies too. She takes a lot of pictures of food, books, and sunsets. Most girls take selfies or have pictures with their friends or boyfriends. Lauren is closed off. I scroll all the way back to the beginning of her profile and find a picture of her and her mother. The caption is from Mother’s Day a couple years ago and says, “Always thinking about you.”
Poor girl.
Her mother is dead, her brother is a typical dumbass high school boy, and her dad is absent from what I can tell. It makes me wonder if she’s lonely. The urge to message her privately is strong, but I don’t want to get my ass in trouble in case she doesn’t want to hear from me. With social media, you can’t do stupid shit like leave trails of your unethical behavior. And messaging my patient to check on her isn’t ethical.
My phone buzzes again.
Morris: I’ll be late to the gym. See you soon.
I let out a heavy breath, closing out of IG, and set to getting dressed in my gym clothes so I can go expel some steam. Twenty minutes later and I’m trotting into the gym with my bag slung over my shoulder. I find my way over to the weights and drop my bag. I’m on my second set of curls when Morris graces me with his presence.
“You smell like pussy,” I groan as soon as he joins me.
He smirks. “Chrissy’s clinginess comes in handy when I need to get laid.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Proudly.”
I smirk at him and then lie down on the bench. He sets his bag down and walks over to spot me.
“You seem edgy today and quiet. What’s up?” he asks.
Gripping the bar, I shrug before lifting. “Just thinking about shit.”
We take turns a few sets, spotting each other, until my muscles are burning and I’m soaked in sweat. I kneel to wipe my face on a rag when Morris lets out a groan.
“Jesus,” he hisses. “If I didn’t already smell like pussy, I’d be all over trying to hit that.”
I follow his stare to a nice ass in black spandex. The woman’s blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail that swings as she talks to what must be her boyfriend. When she feels our stare, she turns to look our way.
; Holy shit.
“Lauren?”
“You know her?” Morris mutters. “Introduce us.”
I stand quickly and throw my towel down forcefully. “No. She’s mine.”
“You’re dating that young thing? No fucking way, man!”
“What? No. I’m not…forget it. Just stay here.”
He laughs after me as I stride over to Lauren. Her brown eyes slide over my body in a greedy way that makes my blood heat and my cock swell. This girl is bad news for me. I react way too much in her presence.
“Daniel,” she says, her naturally pink lips quirking on one side.
“Lauren.”
Her boyfriend comes to stand behind her, but when our eyes meet, I realize based on the same eyes boring into me this is her brother whom I’d met a couple times before.
“Can we talk?” I ask her, needing to get away from his scrutinizing gaze.
“Uh, yeah. Landon, I’ll meet you over at the elliptical machines in a minute.”
As soon as he’s gone, I reach forward and touch the pale pink line on her forehead. She doesn’t flinch under my touch.
“How are you feeling?”
“We’re not at the hospital,” she says. “You don’t get to play doctor right now.”
But she doesn’t move away from my touch. Her skin is paler than when I saw her last. Brows slightly pinched. It makes me wonder if she’s in pain.
“I’ve been worried about you,” I admit, dropping my hand and fisting it. I don’t tell her that an hour ago I was stalking her on social media.
“I’m f—”
I press my thumb to her lips. “Don’t say it.”
Her brown eyes flash with defiance.
“Hi, I’m Evan.”
I tense when Morris comes to stand beside me and I reluctantly drop my hand from Lauren’s supple lips. She pulls her stare from mine to flicker over to him. Her eyes dance up to his hair and she smiles. Of course. They all smile over Mr. Pretty Boy’s hair.
“Pleasure to meet you. I don’t often meet Daniel’s girlfriends.”
Her skin floods crimson. “What?”
“Morris,” I grumble. “Come on, man.”
A chuckle rumbles from him. “My mistake. When you’d said she was yours, I assumed—”