Page 260 of The Doctors Will See You Now

Amanda: Shut up.

Me: You’re totally going to go for a ride on the Spanish stallion. I know it.

Amanda: I miss you. But you’re an asshole. He’s my client. Business and BONE-ING do not mix.

Business and Bone-ing… Real fucking clever…

Me: Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?

Amanda: Nope. :)

Instead of simply putting my phone back in my pocket, I turned it off and then put it in my pocket. Otherwise, I would’ve received no less than ten more text messages about bones and boners and Dr. Erotic.

Plus, I didn’t want to be in the middle of my doctor’s appointment while my phone lit up with “bone” texts.

Forty minutes later, I was sitting patiently on my doctor’s exam table while he gently assessed the stitches on my forehead with gloved hands.

“These healed very nicely,” he said with a little nod of approval.

At the young age of seventy, Dr. Barry Williams had been my doctor for my whole life. From diaper rashes to upper respiratory infections to that time I’d managed to catch the flu when I was twenty-one, this guy had been privy to it all.

“How did you manage this one, by the way?”

“Uh…” I searched for a sugarcoated version of my sex injury. Dr. Williams was also a good family friend and golf buddies with my dad. The last thing he needed to hear was that my date had basically fucked me into his glass headboard. “Just a clumsy moment, I guess.”

He quirked an amused brow. “Was alcohol involved during this clumsy moment?”

I wish there had been more… “Of course not, Dr. Williams,” I lied. “You know I’m a good girl who stays on the straight and narrow.”

A barking laugh left his lips. “Yeah, and I’m one nomination away from being the next Democratic candidate for President.”

“You are?” I feigned gullibility, and he smirked.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to tell me what really happened because you’re afraid I’ll tell your dad?”

“I know you’ll tell my dad,” I retorted, and his smirk turned into a full smile.

“You’re just going to feel some tugging as I pull these out, okay? It might feel a little strange, but it shouldn’t hurt,” he instructed as he started the removal process.

I nodded and shut my eyes in preparation. Even if it wasn’t supposed to be painful, it still wasn’t fun having a doctor remove fucking stitches from your head.

“Whoever did these did a fantastic job. You’re probably not even going to have a scar once it’s fully healed,” he updated as he tugged gently on the sutures, and I grimaced from the odd sensation.

“It was Dr. Shepard at St. Luke’s.” I opened my eyes as I spoke. He focused as he finished up.

“Wait…” He quirked that brow again. “The ER doc that’s on that reality show?”

“Yep. That’s him.”

“My wife loves that guy,” he muttered. “She never misses an episode. Every Tuesday night she’s in front of the TV waiting for that stupid Dr. Erotic.”

I giggled. “He’s quite the character. A lot of women love him.”

“Uh-oh…You think I should be concerned?” he teased, and I shook my head.

“Nah,” I responded with a smile. “You’ve got that older distinguished gentleman thing going for ya. Plus, you’re a hot doctor too, so I think your marriage is safe.”

“Thank God,” he joked and set his instruments on the metal tray beside the exam table. “There. All set, Harlow. It healed nicely and shows no signs of infection, but just keep an eye on it over the next few weeks and give me a call if you have any issues,” he instructed and headed toward the counter to scribble something down on my medical file.