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“See you tomorrow.” Ashlynn kisses my cheek, then Madeline blows kisses through her fingers before they both go back into the dining room for cake.
One problem solved.
How many more to go?
WREN
Imay have spent more time than is socially acceptable getting ready for my first day at the office today. I don’t have hospital hours until tomorrow, so I wanted to look nice while I could, before scrubs took away any chance of that happening. I was trying to dress to impress and, in reality, probably ended up looking cliché, but I don’t care. The tight, hunter-green pencil skirt and white button-down blouse with black patent-leather Mary Janes fit perfectly. And my goodness, did I miss having a reason to dress up? I’ve lived in scrubs for so long, I was worried I may have forgotten how to do it.
I pulled my hair back and pulled out my favorite overpriced work bag.
It’s expensive but so pretty.
I work a million hours a week...
Well, not really a million, but most weeks, it comes in close to eighty.
Shopping is my only vice, and I like nice things.
Okay, so after yesterday, I might need to add Sawyer to that list of vices too. My body warms at that thought. At that memory. The memory of how his fingers felt against my skin. The memory of my orgasm ripping through me.
I drop my head to my brand-new desk in my sparkling clean office and close my eyes.
It doesn’t matter that I categorically know this is a bad move. Or that I loathe Sawyer Kingston with every fiber of my being for reasons I refuse to think about at this point in my life. I’m an adult. We’re both adults. I should be past all the things that happened in high school.
I should be able to move on and not hate him the way I still do. But—and that’s an elephant-in-the-room-sizedbut—I don’t know how to do that. The only time I’ve ever been able to get past my anger toward Sawyer was when I came home for the funeral. And this whole not-friends-with-benefits thing is bound to blow up in my face. I mean really... how smart is it to hate-screw my enemy?
But... another but—this one’s just not quite as big...
On second thought, it might actually be bigger.
What’s bigger than an elephant? A dinosaur?
Whatever. If Sawyer Kingston is half as skilled with his dick as he is with his mouth and his tongue... with his hands and his fingers...Jesus. My skin erupts in warm goose bumps, recalling how talented he was. I guess I’ll let him be a vice for a while. Because unless something severe happened since that night six years ago, it really is an impressive dick. Long and thick with a beautiful curve. I have no doubt he’s not lacking in that department.
My pulse thrums violently as I think about how many women he’s probably practiced those particular skills on.
I’ve got to stop thinking about sex... and Sawyer Kingston.
A throat clears at the threshold of my office, and I look up to see my mom standing there in her pink scrubs. “Good morning, Dr. Davenport,” she greets with a proud smile before she walks into the office.
“Good morning, Dr. Esher.” I beam and stand from my desk, straightening my white coat embroidered withDr. Davenporton it.
Mom has always gone by her maiden name professionally, reasoning that she hadn’t worked her entire life to be anything besides Dr. Esher. Now that I’m wearing my name on my coat, I understand that.
“Are you ready?” she asks with a challenge shining back at me from her warm eyes. “The staff is here, and I want you to meet them before the first patients come in.”
I unplug my tablet and move around the pale wooden desk. “Lead the way.”
* * *
It’s eleven-thirty when Isla, one of the few women working in the office under the age of thirty, knocks on my door.
“Dr. Davenport.” She waits for me to look up. “Your next appointment is waiting for you in exam room three, and I’m about to order lunch. Do you know what you want?”
I jot down my order on a Post-it Note and hand it to her. “Thank you.” I straighten my coat and walk down the hall into the exam room, then stop quickly in my tracks.
I’ve met this patient already.
