Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“He’s not my boss,” Veronica said. “And it’s not like he’s married.”
“But he’s more senior to us,” I said. “With a lot of sway and influence.” What did I care if these women wanted to lust after Jacob? They were only human. And if they were talking about him and someone else, it meant they weren’t talking about him and me—and why would they? Jacob and I were strictly a one-time deal. No one was going to find out. Even if he hadn’t gone to Africa, I was going to pretend he had.
“Doctor Scott?” A familiar voice asked from behind me. My cheeks burned hotter than the sun and my breath halted abruptly in my throat as I realized who the voice belonged to.
I pushed back my shoulders and spun around to come face-to-face with Dr. Off Limits himself. I bit down on my inner cheek—Christ on a bike, he was tall. “Yes?” I tried to sound relaxed and confident. Except he knew that was exactly the opposite to how I was feeling.
“Follow me, please.”
I could feel the stares from my colleagues gathered in the lobby of the lecture theatre. I wanted the linoleum to open up and swallow me down. What the hell was he doing, singling me out like this?
I caught up with him and said, “Stop right now and show me something on your phone.”
He stopped. “What?”
“Get your tablet out and show it to me but be careful that the screen is pointed to the wall.” My eyes were about to bulge out of my head. We couldn’t be seen casually chatting.
He hesitated.
“Please just do this,” I said. “Trust me.”
Lucky for me, he got out his iPad and began to point at the blank screen.
“Don’t single me out like that,” I said. “Don’t speak to me. Don’t even look at me. I don’t want anyone to know anything about what happened on Saturday night.”
“And a lot of Sunday morning,” he added. I glared at him.
“Sign up for some kind of operation that will make you forget,” I said. “And don’t ever speak to me about anything other than work. For the record, you just called me over because the hospital had misplaced some of my personal information. Are we clear?”
He nodded.
“Good. I’m going to leave now. I hope I don’t see you soon.”
I was practically shaking as I walked back to the group. I was going to have to hold it together a little longer so I could explain why Jacob had called me over to him. Then I was heading back to the library. I was due for a lie-down between towering stacks of books. It had been that kind of a day.
Nine
Jacob
I’d been acting impulsively and irrationally and I didn’t like it. I don’t know what I’d been thinking going up to Sutton in front of her new colleagues. We were supposed to be strangers. She’d been furious and rightly so. But that didn’t change the fact that we needed to have a conversation—a rational conversation—about our situation.
I leaned against her front door frame and knocked. No answer. Then I knocked again. There was a rustling of keys followed by the door creaking open a crack. The chain was across the door and I could see Sutton’s one eye peeping into the hallway like a hot, pint-sized Cyclops.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“We absolutely do not need to talk,” she replied. “That’s exactly what I was trying to explain earlier when you made a scene in front of every new foundation doctor at the hospital.”
“A scene? Really? I just wanted to talk to you. Seeing you was a shock.” Saturday night had been so good. So completely unexpected and so much fun. She’d been so relaxed and funny and herself. It was like she’d turned into a different person. I hated myself for causing it.
She closed the door and I waited as she unchained the lock and we came face-to-face. “You better come in.”
“Thanks.” I followed her into her living room. I hadn’t remembered it being laid out like this on Saturday. We’d probably headed straight to her bedroom.
“You want a drink?”
I shook my head.
“Sit over there on that chair.” She pointed to one of those Ikea chairs that looked like an adult baby bouncer. I grinned at the thought that she was being so assertive. Was she scared she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off me or something?
I took a seat and realized we were actually in her bedroom. And her living room. She was sitting on her bed.
“Why didn’t you tell me you worked at the Free?” I asked, trying to put a cork in all the memories from Saturday threatening to fly out into the small room. God, I’d had a good time. The dinner had been so great. I’d been weirdly open with her and told her things I’d never told anyone, let alone a near stranger. And then back here, after dinner? It had been fun and so fucking sexy. It had been the kind of sex that sobered you up—not because it was bad but because it was so fucking good and your body understood on a molecular level that you needed to remember it. It was sex that was to be put in the archives, kept and pulled up at various times for the rest of your life. It was the kind of sex that made you feel like a fucking god.