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Teasing him might become a new hobby.
“Well, I’llneednew hobbies,” I muse aloud.
“Or you can find a boyfriend.” The doctor’s so sure of himself he doesn’t even seem to realize he’s breaking rules. I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon to try to pick up patients high on pain meds. Not that I’ve had anything but some expired Tylenol Danny had in his car.
“Yeah, that’s a no from me,” I say with a laugh. “I want to be entertained, not bored.”
The crease between his eyes suggests I’m the only person who’s turned him down recently. Or maybe ever. He opens his pretty mouth to say something, but a knock lands on the door. The way he jolts away suggests hedoesknow he was doing something wrong.
Busted, Hot Doc.
“Can I come in?” I hear my sister saying. “They said she was allowed visitors.”
Damn Danny and his big mouth. He must have called her as soon as they took me back, even though I very clearly told him not to contact anyone until I’d spoken to a doctor.
“Certainly,” the doctor says, and then my sister opens the door, revealing herself in all of her vava-voom hot redhead splendor. I can tell from the way Hot Doc lets his gaze linger on her curvy figure that he’s immediately switched camps, the traitor. But when his gaze dips to the huge-ass engagement ring on her ring finger, he droops like a daisy left out of the water. “You must be…”
Engaged to a hot millionaire, is what she is.
“Her sister,” Delia says, hurrying to my bedside.
“Oh, I’m fine.” I wave a hand at her. “Nothing a little surgery and four weeks off my feet won’t cure.”
“Eight,” Hot Doc interjects. “Six at the bare minimum.” I’m starting to think he just likes the sound of his own voice.
I glower at him, but he ignores me, making his way toward the door and muttering something about admissions paperwork and stubborn women.
I’m about to say something to Delia, but when Hot Doc leaves, I catch a glimpse of Danny leaning against the opposite wall of the hallway, poring over his phone. He’s holding it close to his face, most likely because he took off those hideous glasses earlier. I’ll bet the Judas is busy texting everyone else I know. Hell, maybe he even made a Facebook post.
“What the fuck?” I say to Delia in a furious undertone the second before the door swings shut. “Why’d you let Danny come back here?”
She glances around the small but serviceable room and pulls up one of the two visitor chairs. “Mira,” she says as she sits, looking wildly out of place in her bright blue and yellow dress in this room of muted whites and blues. “The poor man was beside himself. He was acting like this was all his fault.”
“Oh, he knows it was entirely my fault.”
She gives me a stern look no one should ever have to get from their little sister. “You really should have taken the elevator.”
Seriously? Did he have to tell hereverything? For someone who’s so closed-lipped half the time, he can certainly be chatty.
“Danny,” I call out. There are probably rules about shouting in a hospital, but I’m realistic enough to know I can’t hop over to the door on my one good leg and then miraculously kick him in the ass with it.
The door cracks open, and his face appears in the narrow space. He’s back to that neutral expression of earlier, before he revealed his surly personality.
“Yes, you,” I say, because he’s paused mid-opening of the door. “I don’t know multiple grown men who go by the name of Danny.”
“I don’t go by it either,” he says, annoyance flashing in his eyes as he pushes the door the rest of the way open and steps in. The feeling of victory that flushes through me from getting a reaction, even a bad one, probably says something about my emotional health.
“No?” I ask as the door closes behind him. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Me either,” Delia says, sounding concerned. “Is there something else you’d like us to call you?”
“Yeah,” I add. “How aboutnarc? I thought you and I had an understanding.”
“Calling her was the right thing to do,” he says, running his fingers across the top of the pocket of his jeans. Shit, I probably shouldn’t be looking in the vicinity of his pockets. He might get the wrong idea. But the thought makes my gaze wander to the place between his pockets. I abruptly look up to meet his eyes, but he looks away. A guilty conscience at work, clearly. But he sighs and says, “You and I barely know each other, and you had a medical emergency. If something happened to me at the apartment, I wouldn’t be pissed off if you calledmysister.”
So, he has a sister, huh?
I’m suddenly deeply curious about her. “What’s her name? I need to know who to look for after I push you out of the window. We both know it’s going to happen.”
