Page 11 of Grumpy Doctor


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“I hope you’re right,” she said, but didn’t pull away. “I mean, I want you. To be right, I mean.”

I smiled slightly, and she blushed again. Goddamn, that was adorable.

I finally moved my hand away. “Come on, we’ll have to find something for you to do.”

“I’m not quite done in here yet,” she said, not meeting my eye. I couldn’t tell if she was upset about me touching her, or if her reaction had freaked her out. Either way, I couldn’t push this, even if I wanted to. There was a whole host of ethical implications and lines that I knew I shouldn’t cross, no matter how badly I wanted to.

“Finish up then come find me.”

“Where will you be?”

“My office.”

She nodded and hopped down off the machine. “All right. I’ll finish up.”

I lingered for a moment then turned and left. I smiled as I walked out of there, thinking about the feeling of her leg beneath my fingers and the look of surprise, excitement, and a touch of shame that crossed over her face. I wondered if she’d give me that same look if I stripped off her shirt, her scrubs, got her down to nothing but her bare skin and showed her exactly how good I was with my hands.

Affairs between doctors and nurses weren’t unheard of. Frankly, they were more common than people admitted. Even affairs between doctors happened.

Less common were affairs between attendings and residents. There were just too many power dynamics involved, and the board tended to frown on that sort of thing.

And I figured they’d hate it even more if I got involved with the cousin of one of their members.

Hell, I couldn’t think like this. Barely an hour ago, she was nothing more than a passing thought—very attractive, probably smart, but not something that drew me closer.

Touching her like that broke some kind of dam inside of me, and now I couldn’t let it go.

I’d have to find some job that kept her far away from my office. Otherwise, I wasn’t sure if I could control myself.

Funny, how I could be so controlled in the operating room—the master of my craft, working at the highest level possible—and yet have so little control over my own emotions.

Frustrating, really.

I never wanted to get involved, not with Lori, not with anyone. I was still reeling from Nil Tippett, and the idea of pursuing something more with a woman felt almost wrong, like I was moving on from a man’s death too quickly.

And yet I couldn’t help myself.

This was going to be a problem if I didn’t get it under control.

5

Lori

Instead of doing laundry, Piers made me follow around the other surgical residents for the next two days.

That was better at least. I thought maybe he’d take more of an interest in me—there was a moment, in that maintenance room, when he touched my leg and stood so close, and it felt like there was something between us, something difficult and messy and exciting, but he pulled his hand away and seemed to lose interest.

The other surgical residents were good enough guys. I was the only girl in my cohort, of course. There were female surgeons, but not as many, and the guys loved to act like it was some kind of boys’ club.

There were four of them, each a baby-faced post-med school grad just like me, except they had that strange jockishness to them, like they all played rugby, or polo, or one of those rich people sports.

“What’s he like?” Omar asked me, a dark-skinned guy from New England with an incredible smile and a Rolex. “I mean, everyone talks about Dr. Hood, but I’ve never met the guy.”

“Is he a total freak?” Greg asked. He was a classic New York Italian, complete with the accent. “For real, total freak?”

“He’s difficult,” I said. We sat outside in the courtyard during our lunch break, picking at food. “He’s a genius though.”

Milo grunted. “I bet you think that. I saw him the other day, dude’s like totally ripped and looks like a movie star.” Milo was a skinny kid from Texas with a big mouth and a hooked nose.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are,” I said, glaring at him.

He held up his hands. “Hey, don’t get pissed, just saying.”

“Milo, you’re a moron.” The final member of the group was John. He looked like a lineman, but walked on his tiptoes, and had a slight lisp. “You realize you can’t say shit like that to your female colleagues, right?”

“Whatever,” Milo said. “Not used to having female colleagues.”

“Get used to it,” I said. “Believe it or not, some of us actually graduated top of our class.”

Omar and Greg both laughed, and John gave me a big grin. Milo only rolled his eyes.

“I’m just saying,” Milo went on, “the guy’s like a hunk. But he can’t really be as good as they say though.”

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