Page 22 of One Reckless Night

“Jared.”

I turned, surprised to see Gemma standing there. She was one of the brain surgeons who used to work for me, but now she came in as a consultant from time to time. We’d had a thing once, but it had ended a year ago. Relationships always ran their course, whether they lasted a day or a few weeks. It was why I avoided emotional attachments for the most part. Less messy when things fell apart.

She was still beautiful, with her red hair and sharp features, but there was no spark between us anymore. Yes, she looked like a supermodel, but she was a hard no for me. Gemma, on the other hand, never made it a secret that she wanted me back.

Never. Going. To Happen.

Ever.

“Gemma,” I said, not unfriendly but not exactly warm. “What’s up?”

“Just checking in,” she said with her eyes raking over me. Gemma was what some people might refer to as a siren. Any man that heard her call would be put under her spell. But not me. Not anymore. I had been there and done that. “How was Miami?” she asked.

“Fine,” I said, shrugging. “Just work.”

She nodded, her eyes flicking toward Amelia’s lab. “I’ve seen the new researcher around campus. Amelia, right?”

I knew Gemma. She was fishing for information. She no longer lived or worked on the campus, but she still thought she was Queen Bee.

“Dr. Pritchard,” I said.

“She seems intense.”

I followed her gaze, watching as Amelia moved around the lab, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, her face focused and serious. She was wearing a white lab coat and a pair of black slacks. She had on a simple white blouse. Once again, I noticed the buttons across her chest were straining to stay together. If she coughed, those buttons were going to be flying missiles. I wanted to rip them off with my teeth.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice neutral. “She’s focused. A good quality to have.”

Gemma sighed, her tone dismissive. “Stuck up and boring, isn’t she? I heard she’s not exactly making a lot of friends.”

“I don’t think she’s here to make friends.”

“Researchers are so dull. And weird. They don’t really have social lives, which is probably what makes them so awkward. They get obsessed with their work. I guess it makes sense she’s so focused on TBIs. Not sure you can do much there. You can’t fix an injury like that.”

“That remains to be seen,” I said thoughtfully. If anyone could do it, it was Amelia.

“Well, whatever,” Gemma said. “Maybe she’ll fix your brain so you can see what a good thing you’re missing out on.”

For a second, I thought she was encouraging me to go after Amelia. Then I realized she was referring to herself. I felt a flicker of irritation, but before I could respond, Gemma walked away, her heels clicking against the floor. I turned back to the lab, my eyes landing on Amelia. She was staring at me through the glass, her expression unreadable. But when our eyes met, she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing.