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“Luke,” he mutters, and yeah, I notice that he remembers my name. How could he not? I’m memorable. I force my way into people’s brains and stick like glue. “My worst nightmare, and yet here you are in the light of day. Amanda said it was urgent. Come on. Right this way.”
I glance at Amanda, and she flips me off.
Elliot doesn’t notice; he just holds open the door leading to the back of the office, and I push myself up.
I smirk at the receptionist one more time as I pass, and she narrows her eyes at me. It seems to be a thing in this place. Maybe it’s in the job description.
Must be able to glower.
We enter a small examination room on the right, and Elliot closes the door. Quickly, I lower myself onto the table and lean back on my hands, taking in the small space. This whole building is so…quaint. This little private practice was not what I’d expected when I’d met Elliot. I thought he’d work in a busy ER, or maybe even a laboratory where he could scowl at Petri dishes all day. I glance around the room once more. It’s clean, even if it’s a little older. It could do with new floors and maybe even a coat of paint, but it’s not bad.
I’d so be a patient here. Especially if Elliot was my doctor.
I wonder what kind of exams he specializes in.
Elliot clears his throat, folds his arms, and faces me. “What are you doing here, Luke?”
“Well, you stormed off without giving me your number, so I had to find you. It was a lot of work too. You should be impressed. I put in hours trying to find out where you worked. Even stood up a date to do some sleuthing. I’m like Scooby-Doo.”
He blinks at me for a moment and then sighs, walking to a small sink in the room, and washes his hands. “You can’t just show up at my place of work demanding to see me.”
“Okay, well, that strange girl up front exaggerates. I asked nicely. I even smiled,” I say, baring my teeth for him.
“Jesus,” Elliot says under his breath and then dries his hands off. “Well, since you’re here, I might as well take a look at this.”
He gestures to the bandage on my forehead, so I lie back on the table and smirk as he pulls on gloves and examines the wound.
“It’s healing well.”
“I know. I’m like Wolverine. My skin just stitches back together naturally.”
He meets my stare. “That’s how all humans work.”
I snort and sit up, rubbing a hand across my lightly stubbled jaw.
“Look, no more beating around the bush. I went through all this trouble, and I’m just gonna put this out there. I want to hang out.”
“No, thank you,” he says quickly, his eyes darting away from mine.
“Why not?” I ask. “You look like you need to have a good time. And I’m a good time.”
“I’m sure you’re something,” he mutters. “And I have plenty of good times.”
My eyebrows rise. “I guarantee that if you come out with me and we hang, you’ll realize your good times aren’t that great. They’re probably boring as fuck.”
Elliot lets his gaze slide over me, and he deflates a little. “I am never getting rid of you, am I?”
I put my hands behind my head and stretch out a little. “Nope.”
“I made a huge mistake engaging with you in the coffee shop.”
“Apparently.”
“Am I an oddity to you? Is that what this is?” he asks, and I cock my head.
“Why would you be?”
“Because I’m trans, and have you ever met someone like me before in your entire life?”
