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Nicole
Doctor’s Orders
A Second Chance Doctor Romance
By Nicole Elliot and Ellie Wild
Prologue
“What did you get for number three?” I asked, peering over his shoulder.
“Mono, the kissing disease.”
“Me too.” I flashed him a smile.
“Weird name for an illness,” he responded, his eyes meeting mine. God, he was gorgeous. Why did he have to look so good? I was supposed to be focusing on the material.
“Ha, yeah I guess.” I moved my hair out of my face.
He moved closer to me, “I mean the only way to get it is through saliva.”
He licked his lips.
This should be gross, I told myself, we’re discussing diseases. But instead all I could think about were his lips on mine.
“So tomorrow is the final. I think we should go celebrate afterwards.” He winked at me.
“Oh? Where do you want to go?”
“Out, anywhere. As long as it’s with you,” he paused. “And you wear those jeans you had on last week for chem.”
“What?” I asked, shocked. I knew exactly what jeans he was talking about. So maybe I had worn them to get his attention. Maybe.
“Because tomorrow, after we pass this class, I am getting my hands into those jeans Hailey Clarke,” he said just above a whisper. My pussy ached in response.
The anticipation of having Wyatt’s hands on my body was going to kill me.
I was sure of it.
Chapter One: Wyatt
I fucking hated November third.
The harsh thought bounced off the walls of my head and seemed to echo across the empty cemetery. The angry thought remained private though.
My mom and I were visiting his grave.
We stood in front of his headstone, staring down at the slab of rock that was supposed to represent his life. Instead, it only represented his absence.
A small American flag whipped back and forth in the wind, creating a steady rhythm to which we could mark our grief.
November third arrived too soon every year.
It would always be the worst day of the year.
Five years had passed since my father died and it still felt like yesterday. This year, my mom didn’t cry. We visited the grave and said our obligatory prayers. I took a short walk so my mom could speak to him alone. I did this with her every year, but I never understood why. Part of me knew it was just a way to make her feel better, that it helped her feel close to him. A bigger part of me thought it was a giant waste of time. What was the point of talking to a rock?
He wasn’t there.
