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I just assumed she was single the way she was seven years ago. As if time hadn’t moved for her the way it moved for me. I flirted with her. I made inappropriate comments. I touched her.
But the worst of it? That’s not even what has me feeling like total and absolute shit right now. I’m jealous of that guy.
The one who gets to have Katy and their daughter.
The one who gets to have it all when I’m left with nothing.
Chapter Six
I move my hand slowly up her thigh until I find her soaking wet panties. “Mmmm,” Catia moans. “Yes, Maverick. Don’t stop.” Before she can utter another sound, I grip the wet center and tear, sheering the soft fabric away and leaving her glistening pussy bare and exposed for me to devour.
Yup. Definitely won’t be reading this scene to my mother. Maybe the next chapter is... tamer. Or at least something that won’t make my dick hard and my stomach curdle while reading it to my sick mother and reminding me of all the pussy I’m not getting. Besides, I can’t get over that his name is Maverick. I still keep picturing Tom Cruise in Top Gun.
Not the mental image I want when he’s talking about devouring a pussy.
This is why men watch porn and women read. Who cares about the build-up or their names? Just show me him eating her cunt without all the chitchat back and forth. Though, I’ll admit, some of these scenes turn into fodder for my late-night fantasies. Especially the ones where he ties her up and spanks her ass till she’s a moaning, writhing mess for him.
I sigh, rubbing a weary hand across my forehead and setting the book down on the cafeteria table as I take a sip of coffee. It’s been a long fucking night, and I’m more than a little exhausted. I pick at the stiff piece of likely two-day-old blueberry muffin and toss it in my mouth.
“A little light reading there, Doctor?” comes a soft voice from behind me, close to my ear. A voice that starred in my dream just last night before I woke to a nightmare, but instead of moaning Maverick’s name, it was moaning mine.
I bolt upright, flipping the book back over like a fourteen-year-old whose mother just caught him with a Playboy. But in the process of acting like I’m fourteen again, I swallow a bit too quickly and start to choke on the arid piece of muffin I had been forcing down.
I wheeze in, desperately trying to suck in air while simultaneously coughing as my body works to expel the lump of cake from my trachea.
Katy’s blue eyes go from mischievous to wide and oh shit in a nanosecond. “Crap. I’m sorry! Don’t die. Hang on.”
She jumps into action, coming in behind me and slamming the butt of her hand into the space between my shoulder blades, and then moving in on a full-on Heimlich maneuver. Thankfully, the muffin chucks out of my mouth and onto the table, and I can breathe again. Not thankfully, it does it in front of Katy, my resident, and the girl I generally haven’t stopped thinking about since I laid eyes on her again four days ago.
I’ve found myself lingering at the hospital well after my shifts end just to watch her a bit longer. Just to see her, possibly catch her smile, and feel that feeling she evokes in me before I go home and face the emptiness of my house. And now this. Perfect.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Her hand meets my shoulder, and she crouches beside me, making sure I’m not turning the same shade as the blueberry I just expelled from my lungs. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that. I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to make you choke. Are you okay?”
“Awesome,” I manage with a harsh grunt as I take another sip of my coffee to wash it all down along with my humiliation. I scrub my hands up and down my face.
Fuck. Just… fuck.
I sigh, sitting back in my seat, utterly dejected, and growl, “What are you doing here, Katy?”
She drops into the seat across from me at the small two-person table, all smiles and rainbows, not the least bit ruffled by my salty mood. I hate that I’m glad she’s here when I shouldn’t be. It was a brutal night, and simply seeing her automatically makes me feel lighter and heavier all at once. She’s wearing a red, knee-length, flowy sundress with a V neckline that ties in a knot behind her neck. Her chestnut hair is down, long and thick with silky waves.
Does she have to be this fucking pretty?
Like, so pretty I can hardly stand it?
I’m slowly getting used to seeing her at work in her scrubs with little to no makeup on and her hair up. But I’m definitely not used to seeing her like this. Nothing is easy when it comes to this girl. It seems unfair that it had to be her of all goddamn people I’m being taunted with. But isn’t that the story of my life right now?
“I was visiting my friend,” she chirps. “What’s your excuse, or is this where you come to hang out and read smut?” She reaches for the book and swipes it from beneath my hand. Her lips twitch in amusement, her blue eyes glowing as she reads the title. “Surprise Baby for the Billionaire Doctor?” Her eyebrows bounce suggestively. “Bold choice.” She sets it down and places her chin on her hands, smiling sweetly at me. “Is it any good?”
I run my hand through my hair and sit up, dropping my forearms on the table. “Reading is my mother’s favorite hobby, and she loves dirty romance books. She was diagnosed with non-small cell carcinoma about six weeks ago and is undergoing chemo and immune therapy. Whenever she has her treatments, I try to be there with her, and she likes it when I read these books to her. Part of me thinks she does it to bust my balls because that’s the sort of woman she is, but I also know they bring her a lot of happiness. But even though I’m pushing forty, as she likes to remind me, she’s still my mother and I’m still her son, and much to her chagrin, I don’t love reading the dirty parts to her, so sometimes I read ahead so I know where to skip and where to restart. She fell last night. That’s why I’m here now.”
The smile Katy had been sporting has been completely wiped off her face, and in its place is an expression I can’t read. It’s serious and a little sad, but there is something else there too. It’s not pity—which I appreciate—and it’s not even sympathy. It’s in her eyes and the way she’s staring at me. It makes my heart beat faster and my skin hot and tight. It’s like she can see inside me, see all the demons I’m trying to hide, and isn’t afraid of them.
Katy clears her throat, blinks twice, and then reaches over and places her hand on top of mine. Just like that. “Your mom sounds like a seriously cool lady.”
My chest clenches. “She is.”
“How advanced is her cancer?”
