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He was scared.

Scared of what the doctor would say, scared of getting chemo, of losing his internship with the best attorney in town.

If he was really honest, scared of dying.

Then he’d walked into that coffee shop and caught sight of a curvy redhead standing in line. Her hair wasn’t the typical orange he’d associate with the description; it was a deep auburn, like a glass of red wine. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d looked at the lit-up phone in her hands and saw that she was looking at a very nice set of breasts. The laugh that escaped him in that moment had been such an unexpected delight that morning that he’d watched the back of her head the remaining time he’d stood there.

She’d known the cashier’s name, and Andrew made a mental note she probably went there often. She’d also laughed at something the employee said, and the sound alone had lifted Andrew’s spirits.

He’d had every intention of saying something incredibly clever and impressive when he’d walked up behind her at the coffee bar.

“Hi,” or maybe even, “Good morning.”

But then she’d turned around so quickly and slammed into his chest, and it had been like she doused him with cold water instead of hot coffee.

He remembered his diagnosis and who he had an appointment with later that morning. His life was suddenly extremely complicated, and no woman would want to get involved in that.

Caroline sure as hell hadn’t.

Lauren, though he hadn’t known her name at the time, had looked up at him with those big green eyes, the freckles across her cheeks fading as a pink flush slowly encompassed them. And Andrew had grown angry. He felt constrained by his disease—which meant he would never get to know this unconventionally beautiful woman standing before him.

She was the last person he’d have expected to walk into his exam room. For forty-five minutes she talked about things he knew were important, but he’d had a hell of a time paying attention. It took everything in him to keep his eyes high, away from her mouth and the collarbone on display with the blue button-up shirt she’d been wearing.

Then his mom had asked about sex.

Embarrassment flooded him even now, just thinking about it. He loved his family. Really, he did. But sometimes he just wanted to be left the hell alone.

“Got it. No more blondes for a while.” Logan’s voice jolted Andrew out of his thoughts.

“It’s not that.” Andrew put the last bite of his burger into his mouth and chewed. “There’s just no point in getting involved with someone right now.”

“Dude. Come on. Girls don’t care about that kind of stuff.”

“Caroline did.”

“Caroline was a bitch.”

“No argument there.” Andrew just wished he’d seen it sooner.

Logan tried again. “Women have that caretaking instinct. They’d line up to take care of you, if you’d let them.”

“I’ve got four nagging women at my door as it is. I don’t need another one.”

“Fine.” Logan pushed his empty plate to the side and held up his hands in surrender. “Do you want me to come with you tomorrow?”

“Hell no. It’s gonna be embarrassing enough to have my female entourage.”

“Okay. Let me know how it goes, though. Yeah?”

Andrew offered his friend a tight-lipped smile. “I will.”

“Andrew Bishop?”

Andrew’s mom and sisters were on their feet before he’d even registered his own name.

“That’s us,” Valerie walked toward the woman in scrubs who’d called out into the waiting room.

“Us? Funny, I only heard my name,” Andrew grumbled.


Tags: Allison Ashley Romance