I look down at the salmon-colored clothes with a grin. “I kinda feel like a doctor.”
“You definitely look the part. Plus, you’re still young. Medical school is a possibility.”
“I’d have to graduate high school first.”
His smile immediately disappears.
“I’m eighteen,” I vow. “I just left school recently.”
“Education is very important, Molly.”
I’d tell him he sounds like my dad, but my father never saw a point to any type of formal education. He left those duties up to my brothers and Briar.
My jaw tenses just thinking about the club’s VP.
“I know,” I respond. “I plan on going back, but probably online. I’m not one for the classroom setting.”
He nods, but his eyes continue to assess me.
“You have a busy schedule today, Dr. Andrews. Better get to it.”
I leave him standing in the surgical suite when I hear the bell above the door chime. Rosie and I have already checked in several patients, but two on the schedule hadn’t shown up. Rosie was quite flustered over people who weren’t punctual. Since she showed me the process on how to get them checked in, I’m in my element when I return to the front.
I’m in the middle of getting the paperwork completed for an anxious pup that will be leaving today with a little less than he came in with when I feel eyes on my back.
I’m startled when I turn around and see a man standing in the back doorway. His eyes rake over me the way I expect men to look at me. Cold chills race up my arms.
“C-can I help you?”
“Oh,” he says with a crooked smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes as he steps forward with his hand extended in my direction. “I’m Lance. I do a lot of the heavy lifting around here.”
He drops his hand when he realizes I’m not going to touch him. That’s one thing about being raised in the club. Niceties and common courtesy aren’t a requirement, especially when we feel uncomfortable.
You own your body, Lynch told me a million times growing up. If you don’t want someone touching you, don’t let them.
That always came with a lesson on how to make someone bleed out with a quick stab and twist of a blade to the inside of the thigh, but with the way Lance backs off, I don’t imagine I’ll be needing that skill just yet.
“Rocco,” I tell him with a nod in the collie’s direction, “is ready for you.”
His eyes stay on me for a second longer than I’m comfortable with, but eventually, he strides past me and scoops up the puppy while I wrap up the paperwork with Mrs. Crumpton.
“Watch out for him, honey,” she warns before leaving the office.
I plaster a fake smile on my lips and wave the next person forward in line.
***
“Rosie is in surgery with Dr. Andrews,” I explain for the third time to the caller. “Tuesday next week is booked, but we do have an appointment for Wednesday morning.”
An annoyed huff rattles through the phone. “I think I need to speak with Rosie. She’d be able to get me in on Tuesday.”
My cell phone lights up beside the office phone, and I stab the ignore button as I try my best not to lose my shit on the snobby, insistent woman on the phone.
“Ms. Doyle, Rosie wouldn’t be able to schedule you on Tuesday either.”
I stab my vibrating phone again. I imagine Boston is going crazy right now, but I have a damn job to do, and answering to anyone in the club isn’t a priority.
“We do have an appointment the following Tuesday if that fits your schedule.” My tone is so fucking sweet, my own teeth begin to ache.
“Have Rosie call me,” the woman on the phone snaps before she hangs up.
I stab the ignore button once again before scribbling out the message to Rosie.
“Boyfriend trouble?”
I jolt in my chair at Owen’s voice right over my shoulder. I chastise myself internally for letting the woman on the phone get me flustered enough to not be aware of my surroundings.
“Not my boyfriend,” I assure him once my pulse starts to calm at the realization that I’m safe.
He cocks an eyebrow when my phone begins vibrating once again.
“Long distance relationships are hard,” he adds when Boston’s name flashes again.
“Not in a relationship,” I repeat as I power down my phone. I should’ve left the damn thing at home. With how many times he’s called today, I expect him any moment.
“I just wanted to ch—”
I hold up my finger when the office phone rings.
“Dr. Andrews’s office. This is—”
“Have you lost your fucking mind, Mo—”
I yank the phone from my ear and drop it back in place.
“Wrong number,” I assure Owen when he looks at me with confusion.
“Molly!”
“Fuck,” I hiss when the front door opens with force and Boston strides with determination in my direction.