“Second?” I smirk. “I wasn’t aware that what we did last night counted as a date, in your book.”
“All right, a first date, then.”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” I pretend to scratch my chin, considering. “Does that mean we’d have less time together holed up in a hotel room next time? Because I have to say, that’s more than a little frustrating to imagine. You ran away and left me wanting this morning…”
“I sent you breakfast,” he points out.
“Yes,” I agree. “But that wasn’t what I wanted to put in my mouth.” My cheeks flare again, but I ignore it and keep my expression sober, fixed on him.
He cracks a smile first. “I see. Well then, what if I promised that wherever I took you on this first date of ours, it would be followed by plenty of chances for us to both satisfy our every… desire… with one another.”
“Mm… I suppose I could work with that,” I reply slowly. “Depends, though. See, I got into this injury today, and it’s making me really impatient to see my doctor again as soon as possible.”
His smile widens. “You don’t have any problem seeing an escort a second time, then?” He arches both eyebrows, studying me. I feel a pinch in my arm and gasp, only to look down and realize he’s removed the IVs from my arm.
“Well. Now that I know you have a respectable job and all.” I smirk right back.
He laughs. “All right, then, Naomi.” He stands, and I resist the urge to reach for him and drag him right down onto my bed here and now. His gaze drifts toward the door, as though he’s having the same thought I am. “Get that bed rest,” he tells me again. “I’ll meet you tonight, if you can make yourself wait that long, Ms. Insatiable.” His eyes sparkle with mirth as he says it.
“I’ll try my best,” I promise, even though I can already tell it’s going to be difficult. My heart keeps beating faster long after he’s left the room, as I set about climbing out of the bed and gathering my things. It turns out the mystery around my mystery man is only getting deeper.
6
“And you’re sure you’re feeling all right now?” Monica studies me sideways in the dim car. I spent most of the evening at her house lying on the couch napping. Becca was on nurse duty, bringing me ice cream and soda and snacks from the kitchen, even long after I groaned and protested that I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“You have to eat enough to get better,” she insisted, even when I laughed and promised I was fine.
Now, I stifle a smile at her mom acting the same way, still worried about me. “Dr. Robinson said I’d have shown more symptoms by now if there was anything really wrong. It was just a few bruises in the end, nothing serious.”
“Hmm,” Monica replies, clearly not entirely satisfied by the answer. She checks the rearview, then makes a turn to take us closer to the hotel where I’m still staying. After another pause, she checks on me again. “Dr. Robinson, huh? He was pretty fine.”
I stifle a smile. “Not the worst face to wake up to, I have to admit.”
“He took pretty well to you blatantly propositioning him too.” Monica smirks. “Anything I should know about?”
My fierce blush probably gives her all the answer she needs.
“Well.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Far be it from me to blame you for going after a hot rebound like that. Especially after everything you’ve been through lately. God knows you deserve a hot guy who knows a thing or two about anatomy.”
“He definitely knows that,” I answer without thinking, and then realize what I just admitted.
“Oh, my god.” Monica swerves a little, and I’m surprised we don’t wind up in a second accident for the day, before she corrects the car and stops at the next red light. Then she whirls on me, her expression torn between scolding and approving. “You did not.”
“Did not what?” I reply with an attempt at an innocent smile.
“Naomi Jordan, I know your ‘I’m so innocent’ face, and I’m not falling for it.” She shoots me another glare, but the light turns green, and forces her to tear her eyes back to the road. “What, did you guys hook up in the hospital bed? Or sneak to a supply closet?” She shakes her head, still trying to stay mad at me, I can tell, although part of her is laughing. “Honestly, though, props, girl. I mean, with the way he looks, can you imagine how often he gets propositioned? Kudos on convincing him to act on it for once.”
My face flares all over again, this time because I can’t stop my mind from immediately jumping to the bathroom wall where I found his number. Oh, I can guess how often he gets propositioned, actually. I clamp my mouth shut over that reveal. There’s one conversation I don’t want to delve into with her, especially not if it might startle her into giving me another almost concussion. “We didn’t hook up in the hospital,” I protest.
“Oh, what, so you banged in the ambulance on the way in?” She snorts.
“No! I… he was…” I chew on my lower lip, trying to think of a way to phrase this without giving myself away. “I met him at the hotel,” I finally admit. True, really. That was where I found his number and where I first met him face-to-face. “We hooked up.”
“How long ago did you actually sign your divorce papers?” Monica casts me another sideways glance.
I grimace. “Um. Yesterday.”
“And when was this hookup?”
“Last night,” I mumble under my breath, already knowing what’s coming.
She breathes out a long sigh through her nose. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life, or anything. And seriously, good for you for rebounding with a hot life-saving doctor. Like… we can all only be so lucky. But…” She purses her lips, and casts me another quick glance. “Just, be careful, okay, Naomi?”
If possible, my face could have started a small fire by now. “We used a condom, thanks Mom.” I groan.
“I don’t mean that!” She taps on the steering wheel. “Well, okay, I mean, that’s a good idea too. But, Naomi, I mean be careful to… jump in. Again. So quickly.”
“Who said anything about jumping anywhere?” I cast her a long, dubious sideways glance. “We hooked up. That’s all it was. Just sex.”
Just the best goddamn sex of my life, part of me can’t help but add. And a day full of fantasies and torturing myself ever since, imagining him locking the door to that hospital room and taking me all over again, right then and there…
I clear my throat a little louder than necessary.
“Well, good,” Monica is saying. “In that case, carry right the fuck on.” She cracks a grin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the moment or nag you or anything. I just… I can’t help thinking about what happened last time.”
“Believe me, neither can I,” I mumble. “Trust me, I’m in no rush to jump straight into something else right now, Mon. Hell, the ink on my divorce papers is still drying. And the last thing I need right now are more complications in my life.” Or a hot mysterious doctor who moonlights as a… what? A bathroom pickup artist? A sexual deviant?
A shiver traces down my spine. If that’s how sexual deviants fuck, maybe I’ve been missing out by not calling for more good times.
Somehow, though, I can’t help but feel that what happened with Jason was different. Unique. Not just for me, but for him too. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. Maybe Naomi is right, and I need to calm down the daydreaming.
“You just have a tendency to leap in with both feet first, without consideration for the consequences. Like with Kevin. You guys moved so fast—”
“And I didn’t listen to my friends when I should have,” I reply. “Trust me, I’ve heard the I told you so speech enough times before, Mon. From you and from just about everyone.”
“You know we only give you that speech because we love you, right?” She casts me a sideways glance. “Look, Dr. Hotpants might be what you need right now in the boning department—”
“I’m sorry, Dr. what?” I burst out laughing.
“But what you need in the emotional department is some chill time with your friends, okay?” She reaches a hand over to the passenger side, and I grasp her hand, squeezing her fingers quickly.