Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Naturally.
“There’s always a first if he hasn’t,” she whispers.
“Maggie, please behave,” I beg under my breath as a kaleidoscope of fluttering fills my stomach.
Twisting her sash, she marches forward. It’s at that moment I realize she has no intention of behaving, and worse, she’s going to take me down with her. Clearly, we’re meant to be best friends.
“Sir, could you help me with this?” she asks, suddenly sounding like a doting great-grandmother in a TV Christmas movie instead of the spitfire she is.
“Of course.”
She turns, facing me with a smug smile, and I swear I detect a devious glint in her eyes. Trouble.
Shane’s eyes find mine, and a slight smirk comes into play. Then he says, “You’re good to go, Mrs.—?”
“Mrs. Winston but call me Maggie.”
“Hi, I’m Shane.”
Not letting an opportunity pass her by, she squeezes his bicep and then glances my way as if to tease me. That little minx. “You’re so big and strong, Shane,” she says, making me think maybe she lied and did make out with Marty Freedleman. I wouldn’t put it past her after seeing her in action.
“Thanks, Maggie. I work out regularly.”
“It’s paying off.”
Chuckling under his breath, he looks from her to me again and nods in my direction. “Would you mind escorting me to see—”
“Nurse Cate?” she asks, grabbing his arm and staring up at him like he’s James Dean reincarnated. “She’s single, and it’s been a long time since she’s had an orgasm.”
I cease to exist, withering from the inside out from mortification.
“Is that right?” His Mediterranean Sea–blue eyes lock onto mine while the most roguish grin I ever did see escapes him.
Unfortunately, I still exist in this reality where my orgasm history is on display for everyone. I try to hide the humiliation inside, to act like the little lady is so funny and full of tall fables. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” I laugh, but it sounds so fake that I start laughing for real.
Dragging him over to where I’ve set up for my appointments today, she presents me like an entry in a pie contest with her hands stretched forward, displaying her baked goods. “And here she is.”
I’m too caught up in the way he’s devouring me whole to care about Maggie’s antics. I swear that look alone could do me in, and the way he drags the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip has me biting mine. With a smile tugging the corners right up, he says, “Hello, Nurse Cate.”
And this is how I happily die . . .
Swooned to death right here on the cold tile. All that will remain of me will be a white coat and an e-pad.
Bringing me back to life by pinching my arm, Maggie says, “When I talk about being inappropriate, this is the type of man I’m talking about.”
“I’ll take him from here . . . I mean it . . . him. You know what I mean. Have a great day, Maggie.”
“Have fun, you two.” She gives his arm a little squeeze as she leaves.
We both watch her walk away, a hint of silence leaving just enough room for me to grow nervous.
When Shane turns back, he says, “It’s been a while, huh?”
“It’s not been that long. I mean, if I really think back to the last time—Oh, you mean since we’ve seen each other?” I nod, about to bob my head right off my neck. “Yes, so long. Anyway, she’s only four-eleven, but Maggie’s a total menace. You can’t believe everything she says.”
“How long has it been?” His voice is smooth like whiskey. It would be easy to get drunk off the tone alone.
“Well, we were eighteen at the—” I facepalm myself. “You mean since my last . . .” I shake my head. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Like how good it is to see you?”
“Yes, I approve of that topic.” Feeling every bit the schoolgirl talking to her crush, I look down at my shoes quickly but can’t stop myself from staring into his eyes again. “It’s good to see you, too, Shane.”
Standing so sure of himself in front of me, he seems to have his life together, unlike the mess I am in his presence. He says, “You haven’t changed.”
Oh great. I’ve always been like this? I lick my lips, but my throat goes dry. Trying to clear it, I briefly turn away also hoping to catch the breath that escaped. I clear my throat again. Why am I so nervous?
I graduated summa cum laude from the University of Michigan.
Scored a coveted position in gerontology while earning my master’s degree.
Worked my ass off to save a downpayment plus earnest money for a house all on my own.
So how is it that a guy I knew from high school, who also happens to be famous, has managed to turn me into my eighteen-year-old self, hoping to be kissed next to a bonfire in a matter of minutes in his presence?