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“Guess I’m gonna go grab those vitamins now. If I fall, I fall.”
He starts to walk away when the pharmacist snaps, “Fine. It’s contraception.”
“Great!” I clasp my hands in sarcastic joy. “We’ll go now, you old hypocrite. And you’d better hurry up and fix your signage issues. Every number I need to report you to is already saved in my phone, and they’ll all be back in the office on January 2.”
My blood’s pumping hard as we sweep out, leaving the sputtering old zealot behind us, and as we exit the building, we barely avoid colliding with a couple about our age headed in from the parking lot.
The glasses-wearing brunette scowls as the man at her side wobbles to a stop thanks to the walking cast on his left foot. “Would you just let me help?” she asks brusquely, sliding her arm around his waist.
Her golden-haired companion shoots her a broad grin, but it’s pinched around the edges as if he’s in pain. “I told you it’s no big deal, Dr. Morgan.”
“Stop calling me that,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “And a trip to prompt care is a big deal.” She tightens her grip on his waist, moving him toward the door. But when I catch the pharmacist watching us through the big front window, his jaw set and his eyes hard, my red-hot rage comes surging back.
“Don’t!” The word bursts from my mouth, and the woman’s head whips around in surprise. “Please don’t fill your boyfriend’s prescription here.”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” She gasps in horror at the same time the man chuckles and says, “Shewishes.”
“Uh, okay.” Their vehement denials might be amusing if I wasn’t so fired up. “But seriously, you don’t want to spend your money at this place.”
The smirk falls from the man’s face as he hops slightly to keep the weight off his bad foot, a lightning-quick grimace tightening his features. “Can I ask why?”
I blow out a breath and say as evenly as I can, “You know those stories you hear about pharmacists refusing to sell the morning-after pill?” Their eyes widen in understanding when I point a finger at the man still glaring at us through the glass.
“No way,” the woman says flatly.
“Way,” Cam replies, his clenched fists the only sign of the anger he managed to keep under control while we were inside.
“Well, fuck that.” The blond man straightens in outrage, although his hand still grips the woman’s shoulder. “I’ll just… I can go without painkillers for tonight. It’s fine.”
His not-girlfriend’s mouth flattens. “It’s not fine, William.”
“You can transfer your prescription to another pharmacy,” I quickly offer. “The one on Maitland should still be open. Have them call this place”—I stare daggers at the asshole who’s practically got his nose pressed against the big pane of glass now—“and he’ll have to send it over for them to fill.”
The woman glances up at her companion, the animosity draining from her expression. “Will that be too much to handle?” she asks softly, her fingers moving in a small circle against his hip.
His bravado recedes in the face of her concern. “I’ll be okay,” he says tiredly. “It’s better than spending any money here.” Then he turns to me and Cam with a lopsided grin. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
As the pair turn back to their vehicle, the woman adjusts her glasses and flashes me a small, sympathetic smile. “Happy New Year. And, um, good luck.”
I wave at them and then turn back to the front window, giving the pharmacist my brightest smile and my most sarcastic thumbs-up. If I still didn’t have my own damn problem to solve, I’d be tempted to set up shop in this parking lot to warn away any other customers for the rest of the night.
“He’s lucky I have better things to do right now,” I mutter darkly, tugging Cam’s hand to move him toward the car. Once we reach it, he spins me around and pins me against the passenger door.
“You are incredible,” he breathes.
“He messed with the wrong lawyer.” I aim for breezy, but my heart’s still racing from the past ten minutes.
“He sure did.” He runs a tongue over his bottom lip before speaking, his eyes not meeting mine. “You stuck up for me in there.”
The surprise in his voice kills me. “Of course I did. I meant every word.”
He swallows hard, his eyes bouncing up to mine. “Thanks,” he says hoarsely.
“Anytime.”
We’re staring at each other, not speaking, and somehow we’ve ended up with our fingers intertwined again. I could swear I feel the heat of the flames around that heart tattoo burning through his skin into mine.
“Before that broken condom screwed everything up,” I whisper into the brittle night air, “I was havingthe besttime.”
