I stare at his broad chest, unable to meet his eyes. I want to tell him I loved the poem, that it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. But his wordsjust confused me even more. “You shouldn’t have said those things. Your poem?—”
“I don’t regret saying them, Hazel.” His voice is soft and certain.
I can’t help glancing up, gaze bouncing from his eyes to his lips. I’ve been telling myself he’s not interested, using that as a leash to rein myself in, but he just snapped the leash. And I don’t know what that means for us. My heart is racing forward like an uncontrolled stampede.
“Hazel.” He groans my name like the love interest in a romance novel, like being around me is painful and requires all of his self-control. No one’s ever said my name like that. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
I can barely manage a nod. My voice has completely dried up at the fire in his eyes. I don’t care about the ethics. I don’t care if we get caught. This is everything I want. And I can’t believe it’s happening.
The glow from the streetlight shadows his sharp features in a way that makes him look like a dark prince who just stepped out of the pages of a fairytale. He’s desire incarnate, and I’m helpless under his gaze. No, not helpless, powerful. Because I know I have what he wants. I am what he wants.
Our eyes lock, freezing time. He steps closer, his hand hovering at my arm, like he’s afraid to touch me, like I’m forbidden fruit and he hasn’t decided if he’s brave enough to pluck and eat. I slowly lean into his tentative touch, and then both his hands are gripping my arms. His fingers dig into the sleeves of my sweater, and he pulls me so close my chest brushesagainst his. I lick my lips. He licks his. My heart is a drum, answered by his frenzied breath that mingles with mine. Our noses touch, soft and sweet.
“Hazel,” he whispers.
I close my eyes. But the moment I do, his hands are off me, and we’re no longer pressed together with time frozen around us. It doesn’t matter, because I know Cosmos is going to kiss me. I lean forward and tilt my chin.
“Cosmos? Is that you?” Someone is calling his name. “What are you doing here?”
Shit. Shaking off my dazed lust, I spin around and sprint into the hospital. I don’t wait to see who it is or how Cosmos will respond. I just move. It’s only once I’m through the glass doors and safely inside that I look back and see who caught us in such a compromising position. Dr. Barbie. Samantha. Just my luck.
I walk slowly backwards away from the glass door. She might not have seen me. It’s dark, just past midnight. I could have been anyone. Even if she’d recognized me, I could have stopped him in the parking lot with a question about my mom. We were standing pretty close, but nothing inappropriate actually happened. This is fine. It’s good, even. A save from a close call. We aren’t supposed to get involved with each other.
Maybe after Mom’s not his patient… but not now.
I take another step, and my calves slam into a chair, sending me toppling sideways. A nurse runs over asking if I’m okay, and I brush her off with a quick, “Fine.”
I need to get out of here before Dr. Barbie comes inside and gets a better look at me.
As I’m walking through the doors that lead to the main lobby, my phone rings. I pick it up instinctively, still wondering what Dr. Barbie saw and if Cosmos is going to get in trouble. “Hello?”
“Nutter?”
Shit. I should have checked the caller ID. I never answer my phone without looking first.
“You answered.” Jeremy sounds as surprised as I am.
“Um... yeah. I’ve been meaning to call you.” It’s not a lie. I just had no intention of doing it tonight. Or anytime soon. “Isn’t it after 3am there?”
Jeremy clears his throat. “Yeah. I’ve been working late.”
Working late. Is that the truth? Or just an excuse because he’s already cheating on his new wife? I shouldn’t care. It doesn’t affect me.
“What do you want?” It’s harsher than the tone I usually use with him, but I’m still reeling, my mind is back in that parking lot wondering if Cosmos is going to get in trouble and the last person I want to talk to right now is Jerky Jeremy.
I hit the button for the elevator, and the doors immediately open. Maybe we’ll get disconnected, and I won’t have to finish this conversation.
“Don’t use that tone of voice with me, baby girl.” His own tone is varnished like a penny. “I told you I was going to call and to keep your phone plugged in, but it keeps going to voicemail.”
“Yeah, things have been hectic around here.” Hectic isn’t really the word I’d use to describe life in a hospital, but I’m eager to get him off my back. The elevator opens on Mom’s floor, but I don’t get out. The doors close. I don’t push any of the buttons, and the elevator stays where it is.
“I’m sorry, baby girl,” he says, voice softer now.
It just irritates me more. I wish he’d stop calling me that. I’m twenty-six years old. Not a child.
“Look, I just need a few minutes, okay?” There’s rustling in the background, like he’s shifting papers around on his desk. “I’m trying to decide whether I should book a ticket for next week or the week after. Do you know when your mom’s surgery is yet?”
“Ticket?” What’s he talking about? I’ve been ignoring his texts, but now I’m thinking I should have been reading them.
