Page 49 of What Should Have Been Ours

Dr. Hot Chocolate: Technicalities.

I shake my head, biting back a smile.

I’m about to text him something snarky back when a voice in front of me makes my stomach drop.

“Wow. Haven’t seen that look on your face in a while.”

I already know who it is before I look up.

Parker.

I internally roll my eyes and stick my tongue out like an immature child.

Great.

I school my expression into something neutral before glancing up at him. He’s leaning against the counter like he owns the place—because technically, he does.

Annoying, I know.

Dr. William Parker—head vet, owner of the clinic, my boss, and unfortunately, my ex.

I keep my voice even. “What do you need?”

He smirks. “That’s no way to greet a friend.”

I let out a humorless laugh and give him the fakest smile. “We’re not friends.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Shame, I think we made pretty good ones at one point.”

I roll my eyes, looking back at my computer screen. “I’m busy.”

He doesn’t move. “Who were you texting?”

I freeze for half a second. Then, without looking up, I say, “Not that it’s any of your business, but a friend.”

Parker makes a low noise in the back of his throat, like he doesn’t quite believe me. “A friend, huh?”

I sigh, forcing myself to stay calm. “Yep.”

There’s a pause. Then, in that irritatingly smug voice, he says, “So, who is he?”

I finally look at him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to my job.”

His smirk deepens, but his jaw is tight now. “Just curious.”

I don’t say anything.

His gaze flicks to my phone—that I placed face down back on my desk. “We had something good, you know.”

I grit my teeth. “William.”

He exhales, tilting his head like he’s trying to read me. “All I’m saying is…you don’t need to rush into something with some random guy just to prove a point, ya know.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Prove a point? That’s rich coming from the man currently in a relationship with the girl he cheated on me with.”

His expression falters for a fraction of a second. Then the smugness is back. “Fine, but still doesn’t mean I like seeing anyone else catch your attention.”

I push off my chair, grabbing my folders. “Are we done here? Because I have actual work to do.”