After ordering, the barista hands back my change and I stuff it into the tip jar before grabbing my coffee. Turning around, I bump into a hard chest. I know immediately it’s Drake Kirkland, one of Boston’s finest.
I never understood that nickname for police officers. Everywhere it’s a token term to call a man in uniform ‘the city’s finest.’ Finest what? Assholes?
Uniformed officers aren’t my thing. Drake isn’t catching the hint, though. He must memorize my schedule because I always find him wandering the halls of the hospital. He has to hide out here, never doing any actual police work. I’m not sure there’s any other suitable explanation for the stalker status.
″Hey Dr. Savino,” Drake smiles. “Just starting your shift?”
I force a friendly smile as I step away from him. “Officer Kirkland. What brings you here so early in the morning?”
″Drunk driver killed a mother. The father and son are in surgery now.”
I nod as I walk away, and the fucker follows me. Jesus. Are men hardwired not to be able to catch a subtle fucking hint?
″Do you have plans tomorrow night?” He asks, walking in stride with me.
″Catching up on sleep.” I shrug. I already know he’s about to ask me to dinner. I really can’t deal with the stupidity of men. I’ve told him ‘no’ a million times, and he still asks.
″Would you like to come to dinner with me?”
I huff, stopping in the hall. “Drake. I’m sure you’re a nice guy. I just don’t have time for a relationship right now. Please stop asking.”
″One date, Haley. And I’ll leave you alone if you don’t have a good time.”
I need to get this asshole to leave me alone. Persistence is not a virtue, it’s a goddamn turnoff. Whoever created the idea that girls play hard to get because we want to be chased is a fucking moron.
″I’m a virgin, Drake. I’m saving myself for marriage.” Most of that is a lie, but some of it is true. He doesn’t need to know that. I just need him to back the fuck off. Usually, when I tell a persistent male that I’m a virgin, they leave me alone. Apparently, that’s not Drake.
He swallows. “So? Lots of people wait until marriage.”
″Are you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t respond, just gapes as he stares. “Are you waiting until marriage? Until you’re bound to someone in the eyes of the Lord?” Jesus, it’s so hard to keep a straight face through my bullshit.
He squirms, and I have to hide my smirk, knowing I’ve made him at least a little uncomfortable. Mission accomplished.
Then, shrugging, he says, “I mean, I haven’t. But I could. For the right woman.”
I nod slowly, then continue walking. “Sorry, Drake.”
He continues following, matching my pace, then wraps his arm around my waist. The motion causes me to stop, Drake’s fingers digging a bit too hard as he tries to keep me still. His mouth rests close to my ear. This is fucking harassment at this point. My skin crawls.
″You don’t like cops. I get it. Most of us are assholes. But let me show you I’m not. I’m just a nice guy attracted to a beautiful woman who saves lives as a day job.”
It might be a sweet thing to say, but I don’t buy it. He’s a man and they’ve proven to be untrustworthy.
Though, as much as I hate the emotions that riddle me, I also know I can’t be alone forever. Eventually, I need to move on. I need to get a handle on the anxiety that cripples my life.
Heaving a sigh, I take a risk I’ve always been too scared to take. “One date. And then you have to stop all of this.”
He flashes me a grin of triumph. “Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow. At seven?”
No, too intimate. I’m definitely not ready for that. Plus, I don’t want him to know where I live. I shake my head. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”
″The Oceanaire Seafood Room. Have you ever been before?”
″Nope. I’m sure it’ll be fine. See you.” When I’m inside the doctor’s lounge, I slam the door in his face.
This is probably the worst idea I have ever had. I don’t date, and I hate men. Drake’s not bad to look at, but he is still a cop. Just like my stepfather, the man who ruined my life.
It’s sickening, and it makes me want to vomit whenever I think of the fucked up things he did to me. The things he got away with.