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She looked a little tired but I knew better than to say so, especially when I was a big part of those other things that kept Zola from getting enough sleep. I couldn’t help it, she brought out the insatiable bastard in me. I couldn’t get enough of her. As soon as I got her to one orgasm, I wanted to do it again and again and again. And Zola, she was just as hungry. Even in sleep she didn’t turn away from me.
“Drew?”
I blinked and her smiling face came into focus. “I need a consult. Twelve year old girl had what her doctors suspect was a heart attack, except she’s twelve.”
I didn’t need to say much more before Zola pushed off the chair, smoothed down her clothes and started to pace. “History of heart problems in the family? Any other events like this one?”
“No history of heart problems, but the patient doesn’t know and her parents seem to be a little light on details.”
“Maybe this is her first major event.”
I nodded. “Probably so, but I suspect it’s not the first time she felt off. It’s the heart, Zola, there are warning signs.”
She nodded. “Right.”
“The parents are lying or not paying attention.”
She blinked, her mouth formed into a shocked ‘O’. “Patients lie?” Her deadpan question pulled a deep rumble of laughter from me.
“Very funny. Do you need a minute?”
She nodded. “I’ll splash some water on my face and meet you.”
“I’ll wait.” Something was going on with her, not to mention she looked like a stiff wind might knock her over.
“Okay. Weirdo.” She rolled her eyes and laughed when I followed her to the bathroom and waited outside the door.
She looked exhausted, more exhausted than a healthy woman her age should feel from keeping these hours. She was sick. What was it and why hadn’t she asked for my input?
“All right, Dr. Creeper, let’s go see a twelve year old.”
“Peyton. Her name is Peyton. Oliver and Trisha are her parents.” She walked faster than normal and we arrive at the exam room before I could ask what was going on with her.
Zola pasted on a smile and pushed the door open. “Peyton? I’m Dr. Zola Ross. Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”
Peyton smiled and nodded before she launched into the tale of feeling as if she couldn’t breathe in the middle of her volleyball game. “It was really scary but my coach kept me calm.”
“Ever felt anything like what you felt before you collapsed?”
She nodded. “A few times but it just felt like when you see a really hot guy.”
Zola gasped. “Like that?”
Peyton smiled. “Exactly.”
They went on like that, back and forth, having what seemed like any conversation between a preteen and an adult, only Zola was slowly gathering the information she needed. It was impressive as hell. “Any lightning flashes behind your eyes?”
“Yeah, sometimes when I get too hot in practice. How’d you know?”
“I’m a doctor,” Zola said with a wink.
“Duh.”
She kept a smile on her face as she tapped away on the medical tablet, jotting down all the things she needed to remember. “The good news is I think I know what’s wrong with you and it’s very treatable.”
Peyton rolled her eyes. “And the bad news?”
Zola scrunched her face into a frown. “It’s going to take a few tests to tell me I’m right. Or wrong. Are you all right with that?” Zola asked the question to Peyton, but looked at the parents to make sure the whole family was on board.
“Yes,” they answered simultaneously. “Can Dr. Wright stay?”
Zola smirked at me, her red lips pulled into a mischievous grin. “Are you kidding? This guy wouldn’t leave your side even if you asked him to. He’s kind of a worrywart.”
Peyton giggled. “So is my mama.”
“And just like your mama, Dr. Wright will make sure you’re taken care of while I get things going for your tests.” She made a special effort to shake hands with the parents before leaving the room, my gaze fixed on the spot where she had last been.
“Is Dr. Zola your girlfriend?” Peyton’s sing-song question made me smile.
“No. Why?” I bumped her shoulder. “Jealous?”
“Ew, no, you’re totally old. Sorry. Cute but old.” A small blush stained her cheeks and I laughed. “You and Dr. Zola have that boyfriend-girlfriend vibe between you. Like people who kiss and stuff.”
“Peyton,” her father growled.
“I’m just saying, Dad. It was hot between them, just like in all the best romance movies. We can all see what’s going on between them but they can’t see it yet. It’s so romantic.”
“A teenage girl who’s a romantic. How original.”
Peyton laughed. “Romance is the best. And Dr. Zola is very beautiful. Isn’t she, Mama?”
The woman—the traitor—smiled and nodded. “She is very pretty, Peyton.”
“Thanks for that,” I growled and the woman laughed.
“She is,” the woman insisted.
