Page 91 of Clinically Awkward

“Oh no,” Gabriel said.

“What?” I asked.

“Quinton,” Nathan said slowly. “You sent Fitz, our Fitz, the man who got arrested for serenading the police, to handle a delicate social situation involving your girlfriend’s current boyfriend.”

When he put it like that... “Oh God,” I said.

Gabriel, Nathan, Hayden, and I all ran to the waiting room.

What I witnessed when we got there was pure British gold. Vivian was standing near the reception desk, clearly trying to have a serious conversation with Colton, who was—I kid you not—flexing his biceps while talking to Winnie about his workout routine.

“—and then I do four sets of twenty on the cable machine,” he was saying. “Really gets the definition, you know?”

“Colton,” Vivian said, her voice tight. “Can we talk? Privately?”

“Sure, babe, just give me a sec.” He turned back to Winnie. “So what do you do for fitness? You look like you do yoga. Am I right? I bet I’m right.”

Winnie looked uncomfortable. “I⁠—”

“Colton,” Vivian tried again. “This is important.”

“Babe, I’m just being friendly.” He leaned closer to Winnie. “You should come to my gym sometime. I could show you around. Maybe spot you on the bench press.”

That was when Fitz appeared.

He materialized out of nowhere like some kind of British avenging angel, positioning himself between Colton and Winnie with a smile that could cut glass. “I’m terribly sorry,” Fitz said, his accent suddenly about three times more pronounced than usual. “But I couldn’t help but overhear, and I feel I must intervene.”

Colton looked up, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “Who are you?”

“Dr. Fitzpatrick Lovejoy,” Fitz said smoothly, extending his hand. “OBGYN, master of seduction and possibly knighted if I remember correctly, but more importantly, a gentleman who recognizes when a lady is being made to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not making anyone uncomfortable,” Colton said, though he shook Fitz’s hand. “I’m just being nice.”

“Ah, yes. ‘Nice.’” Fitz’s smile didn’t waver. “That peculiar American interpretation of the word that somehow includes unsolicited fitness advice and invasive personal space violations.”

Winnie’s eyes narrowed. “I can handle this myself, Fitz.”

“I’m quite certain you can, darling,” Fitz said. “But why should you have to?”

“Because I’m a grown woman who doesn’t need a man to defend her honor like this is some kind of Victorian novel,” Winnie snapped. “And I am not your darling.”

“I’m not defending your honor,” Fitz said. “I’m defending basic human decency and the right to do one’s job without being subjected to”—he gestured vaguely at Colton—“whatever this is.”

“Hey,” Colton said, looking offended. “I was just talking.”

“You were leering,” Fitz corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“I don’t leer.”

“Mate, you’ve been staring at her chest for the past five minutes.”

“I have not!”

“You absolutely have,” Gabriel muttered from behind me.

Colton’s face reddened. “Look, I don’t know who you think you are⁠—”

“I’ve already introduced myself,” Fitz said pleasantly. “Dr. Fitzpatrick Lovejoy, OBGYN. British. Devastatingly handsome. Shall I continue?”